and retorts--all holding
dirtycolored liquids--which cluttered the sink. "No, no. I mean
outside."

I couldnt see outside, because instead of a window I was facing a sickly
leaf unaccountably preserved in a jar of alcohol. I said nothing.

"Metaphorically, of course. Wheatfields. Acres and acres of wheat.
Bread, wheat, a grass. And cornfields. Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois--not a
state in the Union without corn. Milo, oats, sorghum, rye--all grasses.
And the Metamorphizer will work on all of them."

I'm always a man with an open mind. She might--it was just possible--she
might have something afterall. But could I work with her? Go out in the
sticks and talk to farmers; learn to sit on fence rails and whittle,
asking after crops as if they were of interest to me? No, no ... it was
fantastic, out of the question.

A different, more practical setup now.... At least there would have been
no lack of prospects, if you wanted to go miles from civilization to
find them; no answers like We never read magazines, thank you. Of course
it was hardly believable a woman without interest in keeping herself
presentable could invent any such fabulous product, but there was a bare
chance of making a few sales just on the idea.

The idea. It suddenly struck me she had the whole thing backwards.
Grasses, she said, and went on about wheat and corn and going out to the
rubes. Southern California was dotted with lawns, wasnt it? Why rush
around to the hinterland when there was a big territory next door? And
undoubtedly a better one?

"Revive your old tired lawn," I improvised. "No manures, fuss, cuss, or
muss. One shot of the Meta--one shot of Francis' Amazing Discovery and
your lawn springs to new life."

"Lawns? Nonsense!" she snorted, rudely, I thought. "Do you think Ive
spent years in order to satisfy suburban vanity? Lawns indeed!"

"Lawns indeed, Miss Francis," I retorted with some spirit. "I'm a
salesman and I know something about marketing a product. Yours should be
sold to householders for their lawns."

"Should it? Well, I say it shouldnt. Listen to me: there are two ways of
making a discovery. One is to cut off a cat's hindleg. The discovery is
then made that a cat with one leg cut off has three legs. Hah!

"The other way is to find out your need and then search for a method of
filling it. My work is with plants. I don't take a daisy and see if I
can make it produce a red and black petaled monstrosity. If I did I'd be
a fas