I remember her telling me once about two old gentlemen she had
travelled with the day before.
"The sun came in and bothered me, and one of them offered to draw the
blind," she said, "and he remarked it was rather a treat to see the
sun, we have so little of it now; and I said that was true, and told
him how I pitied the farmers. I had to stay in my room the other day
with a bad cold, and I amused myself watching one of them at work in
some fields opposite. The state of his mind was expressed by his
boots. On Monday the sun was shining, the air was mild, and it seemed
as if we were going to have a continuance of fine weather, and the
farmer appeared of a cheerful countenance, and his boots were polished
and laced. On Tuesday there was an east wind, veering south, with
showers, and his boots were laced, but not polished. On Wednesday
there was frost, fog, and gloom, and they were neither laced nor
polished. On Thursday there was a snowstorm, and he had no boots at
all on; and after that I did not see him, and I wondered if he had
committed suicide--in which case I thought the jury might almost have
brought in a verdict of 'justifiable _felo-de-se_.
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