Mr. Farnsworth breathed more freely upon hearing this. It was not a figment of the brain caused by an uneasy conscience as he had feared, but he had suffered a slight sunstroke, and, believing this, he became more tranquil.
Resolving not to expose himself to the heat of the sun more than necessary, he decided not to mention what he had seen to his wife, who was nervous, nor to the servants, who were superstitious.
The figure he had seen corresponded in every detail with the description of the late Mrs. Farnsworth, as given that evening to his wife by Mrs. Lattinger, and as it was the last thing he heard before dropping asleep it was not surprising that in his drowsy condition he should imagine he saw her.
“Lois,” he said one evening, halting at the door of her cabin, “when is the best time to plant Lima beans?”
“When de sign is in de arms, ’kase you wants de vines to run up de poles and not bunch on de ground,” she answered promptly.
“I mean the time in the month, Lois. I have no belief in signs.”
“Culled folks is allus mighty keerful about de signs, and de keerfulest ones has de best gardens.”
“What is the best time for beets and parsnips?” continued Mr. Farnsworth, who, having always lived in San Francisco, where he was a banker, had but little knowledge of horticulture.
“When de sign is in de feet, kase you don’t want ’em to spindle up and be all top, but go down in de ground and grow.”
“Have we cucumber seed, Lois?”