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Snide, issue 2, February 1941
Page 39
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derment. 'Yes,' murmured the plant, 'he says that you stole something. Is that true?' There was a sudden sternness in the low voice, and John knew why. Living was an honor in most of the plant world, to be fulfilled in faith and trust. 'No,' he said quietly. 'Shall we believe it?' asked the rose. From every corner of the room came whispered assent. John had forgotten he had so many plants, and he heard the bass notes of even the potted palm in the next room, agreeing. A queer position, thought John, only Peggy believing in me - and the plants. During John's murmured monologue, the sergeant had been glaring at him. 'Come on, you' he rasped, taking John's arm. John obeyed meekly. At the door he stopped. 'Can I take one of my plants?' he pleaded. After a moment's heavy thinking, the sergeant grunted assent, and John went back to the fern. 'Do you mind?' he whispered. The plant quivered in excitement. 'I've never felt so thrilled since the time you transplanted me.' John grinned. He was beginning to doubt the theory that plants had no sexes. This was a female if there ever was one. In the police car, John thoroughly enjoyed the conversation running between the fern and its fronds. If the policeman's ears weren't burning, he reflected, they never would. Some of the comments would have made a scandal-monger 39
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derment. 'Yes,' murmured the plant, 'he says that you stole something. Is that true?' There was a sudden sternness in the low voice, and John knew why. Living was an honor in most of the plant world, to be fulfilled in faith and trust. 'No,' he said quietly. 'Shall we believe it?' asked the rose. From every corner of the room came whispered assent. John had forgotten he had so many plants, and he heard the bass notes of even the potted palm in the next room, agreeing. A queer position, thought John, only Peggy believing in me - and the plants. During John's murmured monologue, the sergeant had been glaring at him. 'Come on, you' he rasped, taking John's arm. John obeyed meekly. At the door he stopped. 'Can I take one of my plants?' he pleaded. After a moment's heavy thinking, the sergeant grunted assent, and John went back to the fern. 'Do you mind?' he whispered. The plant quivered in excitement. 'I've never felt so thrilled since the time you transplanted me.' John grinned. He was beginning to doubt the theory that plants had no sexes. This was a female if there ever was one. In the police car, John thoroughly enjoyed the conversation running between the fern and its fronds. If the policeman's ears weren't burning, he reflected, they never would. Some of the comments would have made a scandal-monger 39
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