Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1881-01-20
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poLLY,THEFLoWER GIRL

own rosebuds, said Mr.. FltZalan.
I've heard of her more than once,
returned Frank Calverly. The pretty
flower girl, people call her, don they?
Old Frixham has doubled his custom
since she came there!'
'And the best of ALL added Fitza-
Ian, with a laugh, lis that she is quite
unconscious of her own attraction-a
little country lassie, who thinks only
Of her business, and never dreams that
she herself is the sweetest flower of all
the assortment.
Lets go in and buy Marechal Mel
bud and two or three sweet verbena
leaves, said Calverly. i should real
ly like to see this modern Flora Of
yours
Dorothy Pentield stood behind the
counter of the florists store, sorting
over pile of fragrant blossoms which
lay on tray of damp green moss.
Trails of smilax wove their green gar
lands up to the ceiling; heaps of gold
and rose-petaled buds lay in the win
dow; drifts of purple heliotrope per-
fumed the air, and white carnations
lay like hlllocks of snow against the
panes of the show window, while spikes
of perfumed hyacinths and cape jessa-
mine flung their subtle scents upon the
air.
And Dolly herself, with her round
dimpled face, pink cheeks and soft,
brown eyes, exactly the shade of the
rippled hair, which was brushed sim
ply back from the broad, low brow,
was fitting accessory to the scene.
She looked up as the two gentlemen
entered, and soft crimson shadow ov-
erspgead her face for a second.
Have you got one of my favorite
button hole bouquets made up, Miss
Penfeld7' Fitzalan asked with a care
less bow and smile.
Il know, said Dolly softly. "A rose
bud and sprig of heather, and two or
three myrtle leaves-that is what you
like No; l have none made up just
at present; but can tie up bouquet
in half minute, Mr.. Fitzalan.'
'One for me, too, if you please, said
Calverly, touching his hat.
Just the same?
Dolly lifted the long eyelashes, which
were like fringes of brown silk, and
gave him shy glance.
"A little different, please. Consult
your taste, Miss Penfeld'
Il like the double blue violet, said
Dolly, gently, with geranium leaves
Then they shall be my favorite flow
ers also, said Calverly, gallantly.
The gentlemen had hardly taken
their leave, when old Frixham, the
florist, hustled in, with round, red
face, shining bald head, and an air of
business all over him.
Isn't it time you had the theater
bouquets ready? said he, looking criti-
cally around, and moving a glass of
freshly cut callas out of the level sun
set beams which fell, like a sheaf of
golden glances, atbwart the deep bow
window.
Ishall have them directly said Dol
ly, starting from her rever;e. The
flowers are all sorted cut.
we have too many carnations on
hand, said the florist, fretfully; and
those gaudy Cape bells are SO much
dead loss. Let the man from the green
houses know, please, there's demand
for half-open rose-buds and forced ILL.,
lies of-the- valley
'Yes,' said Dolly dreamily, 4 will
tell him--when he comes
The closed country wagon, with its
load of fragrant leaves and deliciously-
scented flowers, came early in the
morning, long before the flat florist
was out of bed, and while the silence
almost of an enchanted land lay upon
Upper Broadway.
But Dolly Penfeld was there fresh
ening up the stock of the day before
with wet moss and cold water, and
the stems of the rose-buds.
No more carnations, John, she said,
briskly; nor amaryllis flowers; and we
want plenty of camellias and scarlet
geraniums, and those bright flowers.
Il thought, perhaps, said honest
John Deadwood, who measured six
feet in his stockings, and had the face
of an amiable giant, you might want
to 90 back with me to-day, Dolly.
Your aunt has come from Kansas, and
there is to be dance out in the old
barn, with plenty of candles and ever
green boughs. And mother would be
proud to welcome you to the old farm,
house, Dolly Your oleander tree is
Kept carefully, at the south window,
and
Dear mel carelesslyl interrupted
Dolly, why don't they put it in the
green -house?'
a Il