It was nearly dark when I got through and went back to Miss Melpomene, who thought something must have happened and seemed to think she had picked quite too many peas and was eager to make me take some. It was an original birthday party, but we both enjoyed it greatly, and the drive home was delightful, and we were very gay.
October 11.
Had Eva to sow by hand the little of the inoculated seed left yesterday. Assisted by Bonaparte I mixed the rest of the seed—one and three-quarter bushels—with the liquid culture and then spread the wet seed out in the piazza to dry. The stuff smelled very yeasty and queer. I do hope it is all right. As I had much more liquid than I needed, I mixed it with earth so that I may use it in future.
Yesterday, with a storm coming up, I was unable to get any one to haul in my beautiful pea-vine hay. A month ago Gibbie had asked permission to be absent to-day and I promised him he should go. I sent word to Elihu and George to come and handle the hay, but there was a funeral, and not a single man could I get.
Had Eva to sow by hand a little of the inoculated seed.
October 12.
Drove down early to Cherokee, and finding the seed dry drove rapidly to Mr. L.'s place to get the drill, but instead of using it yesterday they were sowing rape to-day, so there was nothing to do but return quickly, send for all the women I could get, and sow it out by hand. The sowing was easy enough, though slow, for the women are accustomed to sow rice by hand, but the covering was the difficulty. I had eight hands all the time and then when the hands who were picking peas knocked off I called them in to help. The moon was high in the eastern sky when the last row was sowed, and then we had to stop, though about one and a half acres were not covered. It had been a great rush, and the hands all worked well and I paid them extra, for though they had not started till late, as I had counted on getting the drill, they had worked steadily. I was completely exhausted when I got home.
October 13.