on."

"A terrible lawn. All shot. Last night. This morning--"

"Stop. What kind of grass? Or don't you know?"

"Of course I know," I answered indignantly. Did she think I was an
idiot? "It was devilgrass."

"Ah." She rubbed the back of her hand against her singularly smooth
cheek. "Bermuda. _Cynodon dactylon._ Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could
I have been so blind? Did I think only the corn would be affected and
not the weeds in the furrows? Or that something like this might not
happen?"

I didnt feel like wasting any more time listening to her soliloquy.
"This morning," I continued, "it was as green--"

"All right, Weener, spare me your poetry. Show it to me."

"Well now, Miss Francis ..." I wanted, understandably enough, to discuss
future arrangements before she saw Dinkman's lawn.

"Immediately, Weener."

When dealing with childish persons you have to cater to their whims. I
rid myself of the pump--I'd never dreamed I'd be reluctant to part with
the monster--while she made perfunctory and unconvincing motions to fit
herself for the street. Of course she neither washed nor madeup, but she
peered in the glass argumentatively, pulled her jacket down decisively,
threw her shoulders back to raise it askew again and gave the swirl of
hair a halfhearted pat.

"I'd like to go over the matter of organizing--"

"Not now."

I was naturally reluctant to be seen on the street with so conspicuous a
figure, but I could hardly escape. I tried to match her swinging stride,
but as she was at least six inches taller I had to give a sort of skip
between steps, which was less than dignified. Searching my mind to find
a tactful approach again to the subject of proper distribution of the
Metamorphizer, I felt my opportunity slipping away every moment. She, on
her part, was silent and so abstracted that I often had to put out a
guiding hand to avert collision with other pedestrians or stationary
objects.

I doubt if I'd been gone from Mrs Dinkman's threequarters of an hour. I
had left a small group excited at the free show consequent upon the too
successful beautification of a local eyesore; I returned to a sizable
crowd viewing an impressive phenomenon. The homely levity had vanished;
no one shouted jovial advice. Opinions and comments passed in whispers
accompanied by furtive glances toward the lawn, as though it were
sentient and might be offended by rude speculation. As we pushed through
the bystanders I was suddenly a