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But Noble went on, as unwitting that he had to do with this prison as that he had to do with Master Torbin's tomato. The face at the window was not like Charlotte Corday's, nor was the window barred, though the prisoner knew a little solace in wondering if she did not suggest that famous picture.
Bert's brother, Morris Lauzon, was the deputy sheriff, and had a star cut from the top of a tomato can to prove it. John was to be a prospector. He would need little rehearsing for this part. In addition, he had not been out where he could have the services of a barber for six months past, which was all the better. John had a kind, quiet, easy-going way that made friends for him on sight.
Who taught the tomato vine to fling its flaming many-mansioned fruit before the gaze of the passer-by, while the potato modestly conceals its priceless gifts within the bosom of the earth? I learned years ago that it is the mystery in the miracle that makes it a stumbling block in the way of many. If you will analyze the miracle you will find just two questions in it: Can God perform a miracle?
Bassett's face was the color of a ripe tomato; he considered that he had been caught off his guard, and the hilarious shout of his erstwhile admiring audience caused chagrin, disgust and rage to sweep over him in swift succession. He was mad clear through, and he meant to teach this impudent young Teeny-bits a lesson.
Betty appeared in the doorway that led directly from the restaurant stairs. "I'm sorry to intrude," she said. "Don't blame Michael, I'm breaking my parole to get in here. He locked me in and made me swear I'd keep out of the kitchen before he'd let me out at all, but I had to tell you this. The tomato soup has curdled and you ought not to serve it any more."
The time a tomato fruit will remain in usable condition and the amount of rough handling it will endure without becoming unsalable are most important commercial qualities depending largely upon the combined effects of the form and structure of the fruit, solidity and firmness of the flesh and ripening habit.
"An' them no bigger than the top of a tomato can!" Mrs. Byrne was muttering. Mrs. Cregan ate, and the food helped, to stop her tears. It was the strong coffee, at last, that brought her back her voice. "If it'd b'en him, he'd 'a' gone an' got drunk," she said, wiping her cheeks with her napkin. "The men have the best of it. Us women have to take it all starin' sober."
In the present crisis, the first tomato was enough to set matters moving. As the two armies stood facing each other in silence under the dim and mysterious rays of the lamp, it suddenly whizzed out from the enemy's ranks, and hit Wyatt on the right ear. There was a moment of suspense. Wyatt took out his handkerchief and wiped his face, over which the succulent vegetable had spread itself.
Lancaster's grumbling lessened, and he helped to plant some boxes with cabbage and tomato seed that the "sutler" supplied. Marylyn, coaxed out for an hour or two daily, rewarded Dallas with smiles. And when she held the looking-glass before her, she saw a faint colour in her cheeks. To Dallas, the spring brought renewed courage and a vague longing.
The house-keeper had just telephoned her all Wrenfield was in a flutter. The doctor himself had picked out the melon, one of the little French ones that are hardly bigger than a large tomato and the patient was to eat it at his breakfast the next morning. "In a flash I saw my chance. It was a bare chance, no more.
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