“Lots of ’em; ol’ misses allus let de fust big uns ripen for seed. Dey is in de attic, hangin’ on de rafters in de back room. Does yer want me to fotch ’em down?”
“No, the ground is not ready. I will go up this evening and look over all the seeds.”
After tea Mr. Farnsworth ascended to the attic and stood at one of the front windows gazing out over the beautiful neighborhood, the village of Dorton and the distant city. He then went into the back room where the seeds hung, each kind in its little sack, tied and labeled by a careful hand.
The light being insufficient, he took the sacks into the front room, made his selections and had turned to put the remaining ones back upon their hooks when in the door-way through which he must pass stood the little old lady in the costume in which he had first seen her. A tremor seized Mr. Farnsworth, his heart throbbed, and his hands trembled so much that the sacks dropped to the floor. He stooped to recover them and when he arose the figure had disappeared.
All was silent, the attic and stair-way could be surveyed at a glance; there was not a living thing to be seen.
Taking all the seeds with him, he went to the garden, gave them to the men, and returned to the parlor where were his wife and two callers, Mrs. Courtney and Mrs. Merryman, whom he welcomed and then took a seat upon a sofa in a distant corner of the spacious parlor.
“I have been overseeing my gardening,” he remarked languidly; “I think there is nothing more interesting.”
“Yes, for those who understand it,” smiled Mrs. Courtney. “Brother Valentine oversees our garden and I know but little about the work of cultivating the different vegetables. I never tried planting anything except turnip seeds, and that was not a success. The rule given me by a facetious friend was to start out with half the quantity I considered sufficient, to fall down and spill half, then sow half of what remained; but with all these precautions the turnips were so crowded that they were not much larger than walnuts and it did not occur to me to weed some of them out and give the others a chance.”
This incident recalled others to the ladies and Mr. Farnsworth was silent, pondering over the event of his day.
The summer passed and one evening in early autumn Mrs. Farnsworth accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Merryman to a concert in the city. It being an hour’s drive, they were not expected back until near midnight, and after reading until weary, Mr. Farnsworth turned the lamp flame low and lay down upon the lounge in the library.