"Do so by all means," I replied, "as I have only two hands occupied with the trowel and the sunflower seeds it will be a pleasure to balance an umbrella as well."
But Jane did not notice the sarcasm, and presently Amanda tiptoed out through the wet grass with the umbrella. I was left trying to hold it, and wondering how Mrs. Bunkum acted in a crisis like this. But of course she never got caught in one. She would know right off the bat just how deep to put the seeds. At any rate, Jane's researches among the Aquilegias had given me an idea.
"Look here," I called, "Mrs. Bunkum is so confounded classical or scientific, or whatever it is, that I believe she scorns to use such a vulgar word as sunflower. She's probably put it under its scientific name."
Jane looked as though the last difficulty had been removed.
"What would the scientific name be?" she inquired.
"I am trying to think, as well as I can, standing in this puddle." I was sparring for time. "It would be helio something, I suppose," I added.
"Heliotrope, of course!" exclaimed Jane, with a glad chortle. "Here they are; all about them!"
"No! no! no!" I shouted, "I do wish you wouldn't jump at conclusions so. Heliotrope means a flower that turns around to follow the sun."
"Well," she said, "I thought sunflowers did that."