Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1888-02-11
SWEET Vl0LETS.

that Mr.. Billydoo Whiskers had been put
ting on his snowy shirt, tying his white
necktie with the most degage accuracy,
donning his low vest, assuming his silk
lined swallowtail and casting a languorous
suspicion of Lilas de Perse on his handker-
chief which, sweet thought, her own deli
cate fingers had embroidered for hint
was falsehood in silk, for she had made
her maid do it-all this time Mr.. Whisk-
ers had been humming, softly and tenderly,
that wonderful song which has caused the
death Of more organ grinders, the decay of
more MINISTRIES, the sourlng of more milk,
and upsettlng Of more weak minds than
any other mass meeting of augmented
half notes in the whole literature of song.
When he was finally done and had com
pletelv transformed himself from broker
in tweed 20 an Adonis in broadcloth, he
cast at the Adonis in the mirror a deep,
languishing, soulful glance, that would
have turned the head Of any female statue
on pivot, and in fact, appraised the jeal-
Gus Parian Diving Girl on the mantel, who
was watching him narrowly, that Mr..
Whiskers was deeply, very deeply in love.
With a smile on his face of standardization
that he could not entirely repress he
tripped down stairs to the sitting-room,
where a sweet, calm-faced little woman
sat somewhat idly reading the evening pa
per. She looked up, and being his wife,
took in the whole situation at glance.
Going out, dear ?' said she pleasantly.
"Yes. Little spread at the club. I'll be
home early. Ta-ta, DEAR he said airily.
She smiled pleasantly and he went out
and away
As soon as the hall door closed she
looked straight ahead of her for some time.
Then she leaned her chin on a plump,
pretty little hand, her elbow resting on the
table, and fell into deep thought Her
face was sad. She had much more strength
and much more common sense than the ay-
erage woman. But they had been married
ten years and her husband had gotten used
siht. She knew quite well that at heart
he loved her. She understood how the
Violet in the case, Mrs. Violet - So
ciety widow, had aroused in him an infatu-
alton which had caused him to make
fool of himself in pronounced attentions of
the silliest character She knew perfectly
beautiful, and that her narrow conception
of life made the handling of men through
their weakness a worthy ambition. But
under her calmness the little wife was
both deeply hurt and judiciously angry.
Her husband was being talked about to his
discredit. That wounded her more than
his neglect of herself She thought long
time and then rang the bell.
James OMeara, the butler, had a quick
ness of perception that his Irish eyes made
it impossible to conceal He was an old
and tried servant. He knew the situation
perfectly and was much disturbed at it, for
he had a genuine and warm admiration
for his mistress. She knew that he knew,
and she consequently had determined to
utilize him. She did not discuss the stu
alton but she gave certain orders 1t took
a long time Despite his dignity James
OMeara very often smiled. At one time
he burst out laughing, but Immediately
begged her pardon. She did not smile
Neither did she frown. She was very quiet
and busineSs-like during the whole talk
Then she went quietly to bed
The next day Mr.. 0Meara was very
busy. He was gone from the house for
hours. He could have been seen in quar-
tiers Of the city where a fashionable butler
never was seen before, talking to people
for whom it would seem a fashionable but
Ter has no sort of use. The next day some
thing happened down town which was q
little unusual.
Mr.. Whiskers' Office was in New street,
not very far from that yell foundry where
men below at each other for a long time
and then quietly sell to one another some
stock. 1t was nice Office en- the first
floor, the private Office having a window
opening about ten feet above the street.
Shortly after the adjournment of the
morning board, Just as Mr. Whiskers was
deeply engaged in discussing a heavy
transaction with client, the soft tweedle-
decide of hand organ hoated in from the
street outside. 1t was familiar tune. it
was Sweet Niolets" Mr. Whiskers
smiled, caressed his mustache with re-
pressed complacency, and then plunged
deeply into business again, for the matter
was important.
"Huh! Huh A tink-tink sounded
at the window He and his friend turned
A small monkey with the countenance of
Methusaleh and dirty red jacket stood on
the window sill. 1t took off cap with a
ragged feather in ii and bowed profoundly
Around its neck was a little wreath of
pretty blue violets.
Cunning little beast" said Mr.. Whisk-
ers, kindly. He put half dollar in the
cup and the monkey went away. The
organ PLAYED "Sweet Niolets" once more,
and then all three of them went down
the street and played no more within hear
ing.
Twenty-four hours had elapsed with the
usual industry of hours when Mr.. Whisk-
ers was in exactly the same place with an
other important client. As they talked a
peculiar sound as of a very large hand or
gan was heard. Singulsrly enough the
music was Sweet Violets." Mr.. Whisk-
ers, deep in business, paid no attention
until clatter on the sill made him turn
to discover two monkeys, with two tin
cups and two dirty red jackets and two
wreaths of fresh blue violets around their
necks
He stared at them in establishment.
Get out, you" he said, impulsively,
reaching for something to throw.
His visitors dived below the sill, peeled
their faces, showed all their teeth and
said, Huh, huh,' still glaring at him.
Every time he made motion they lodged
like song and dance men, in unison, and
then peeked over the sill like a Conspira-
tors Chorus of two. His friend laughed.
Mr.. Whiskers dropped half dollar in
each cup 10 get rid of them, and the col
lectors politely parted. Not to be outdone
in generosity the two organ grinders keep
ing '9xact time, played Sweet Violets''
once more, and played it with delicacy
and an expression such as never has hAen
heard before or since that day.
Mr.. Whiskers wondered q little that
night. The suspicion which had begun to
Turk in his mind did not get large enough
to vote, however, until after the session
next day. He was no sooner closeted in
his office than such an internal jangling as
could not be listened to without neuralgia