Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1882-11-16
Thank the Flowers.

In a large marque where masonic
banquet had just been held, one of tht
stewards, man of middle age, fingered
writing something in pocket-book.
The only thing on the dismantled ia
BILE that was left unspeilt to the eye was
the wonderful vases of splendid tropica
blossoms that were sending out sweet
breathing scents upon the smoke-laden
air.
| A wan-faced waiter in greasy dress
suit stood watching the gentleman i'm
patiently.
Organically sensitive to degree, DR.
Holt lifted his large gray eyes to the
mans face and asked haughtily:
"Am l in your way, my good fellow p
mo. sir; certainly not, sir" said the
water, sheepishly, wiping his hands on
the napkin at his side; "only--"
"Oh, understand. I'm not exactly in
the way, yet you wish me away. Now,
why is that?'
"Well, if you must know, sir. the
head waiter will be here presently, and
l shall lose my chance of those flowers" "
what do you want the flowers for?'
asked the gentleman, surprised that the
coveted article was not game-pie close
at hand.
well, you see, sir. in our house there
is poor foreign lady who is dying. and
she is mortal fond of flowers, particu-
larly great Haunting flashing ones like
them there; she says they remind her of
the ''sunny south"
The gentleman WINGED, and the waiter
continued:
"My missus made me promise to bring
some home; my missus is a soft-hearted
one, and has taken IA fancy to Madame
Bellini"
Dr. Holt started still more, then said
lightly:
"A soft heart is better than soft
head. You shall have the flowers
He took double-handful of the finest
blossoms, and picking up his card from
beside his plate, bound them up tightly,
then said:
Take them and that jelly yonder, and
this half-bottle of wine, and if they are
missed, refer your employers to me-"
Then he went out and forgot all about
the transaction over a rubber of whist.
At the top of house in the dreariest
part of the big city the waiter in ques-
tion stood beside good-natured comely-
looking woman at the foot of a low
white bed, where a lovely but haggard
looking woman lay, supported by pill
lows; her great dark eyes were unnatu-
rally bright, her lips vivid red, her
cheeks crimson as the cool fresh flower
she laid against them lovingly.
ut was very kind of you, Merton, to
think of me. The flowers make me feel
happy; they grow in my own sweet
home. One is not so afraid of the brown
earth when one sees the beautiful treas
ures it nurses in its warm bosom. Per-
haps when l am dead the flowers wiz
talk to me and know 1 love them"
A tiresome hacking cough interrupt
ed her low soft speech, that had a slight
ly foreign accent. Fidgeting with the
flowers, she noticed that the stems were
too tightly compressed, and tried to un-
wind the string with her nervous fin
gers.
"Cut it, Merton; see how crnelly it |
must bruise the stems. Why did you
tie them so tightly.
II did not tie them, madame; the gen.
tleman who gave me leave to take them
did it."
HE must have been kind man, Mer-
toD."
"I,think he is madame; he has kind
face. This is his name, l fancy"
Madame held out her hand for the
card. and read:
"Dr. Felix Holt"
She gave a cry of surprise, and drop
ped the card as though it had stung her.
"You are in pain, madame; can l do
anything for your" asked Mrs. Merton.
No, thanks. 'Tis an old pain. think
[ can sleep now."
Then she pressed the card to her lips,
md placed it in her bosom; saying to
herself softly:
Heaven in its infinite mercy directed
his kindness from his hands," aud fell
isleep with smile of divine gratitude
N her sweet face.
"The doctor gives no hope for me.
Merton, and now know l must die,
rave Il favor to ask of you. Take that
,ard and that faded passion-flower, and
eek the gentleman who gave them to
lou; tell him MignOn is dying and wish
IS to say farewell to him."
Merton nodded and left her, too NOV
ID to speak.
The sick woman lay back amid the
pillows. her lips moved rs though she
prayed. 'I s,. So
1t was brigh breezy morning and U