The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1889-12-11

long stake down beside the new rose
and tied it securely while Lucy eagerly
watched every movement.
"Oh! l am sure of blossom soon,
dear father, and what color do you sup
pose it will be? Pink or red, hope!
We all like that color best, don't We?'
she asked, turning affectionately to each
parent, while the pale face shone with
innocent delight and anticipation.
Then she picked large bunch OF the
hardy roses which the modest garden
grew, and, sitting down beside her moth
er, began to arrange them.
"When am little larger and strong
er-I am good deal stronger than l
was, am not, dear mother?" she inter-
posed, sitting up very erect for the mo-
ment. Not waiting for an answer, she
went on neutrality-suspicious. am older
am going to spend all my time grow
ing flowers. You'll give me more beds,
father, and l will SOW the seeds and
tend and water them, oh, so carefully!
I'll have many, many roses out here IN
the garden, and then in the winter III
have the tea and the hybrid roses, DR..
Packard's book tells about, in the house.
| can grow many of them from few
roots which I can buy for the first start,
you know.
''Then I'll sell them and their BIOS
SONS. have heard ever so many people
say that they wished there was some
place in the village where flowers could
be bought, and Mrs. Browne, you know,
sent to Boston for roses for her
party. / could sell roses for such
things, and make up lovely bouquets.
Then I'll give all the money to
you, father, and help you pay MIR.
Browne the money you owe him. When
/ had earned enough, perhaps, l could
have a little glass house, right here,
and then could grow more flowers, and
we three would live together always in
this little house and be so happy, and
my roses would help you both. l am
sure my new rose will blossom, and
with it / am going to begin helping
YOU"
Lucy smiled to herself over the rose
EMPOWERED castle-in-Spain, and burying
her face in the cluster of roses, said,
with sigh of childish ecstacy: "They
are like glimpse of Heaven!
The few hundred dollars, which
Lucy's father had as yet been unable to
pay on their cottage, was source OF
constant worry and trouble to both her
father and mother. Industrious and
saving, they had always been bur-
dened too heavily to succeed. Mar
row means had always been their
lot, and illness and grief their fire.
quent guests. From a little toddling
child Lucy had shown sweet thought
fulness for them, and had been compan-
ion and comforter in measure far be-
yond her years. She was full of child
ish delights and games, yet the visions
of caring for her parents in the coming
years were often before her and made
her sedate and grave.
The summer days passed by quickly,
and Lucy's rose grew luxuriantly. The
tall stalks were covered with abun-
dant LEAKAGE, but there were no BIOS
SONS. But Lucy's faith and care did
not waver, and when the frosty nights
of late October came her father trans
planted the rose into larger pot and
brought it into the house. Lucy daily
watched and tended it, and the rose
tree spread its green leaves and drank
in the sunshine and the warmth all
through the snowy weather, but gave
no q ateful response of bud or flower.
Its gentle care-taker did not thrive so.
| A slight cold taken in early winter
could not be shaken off. The sorrowful
father and mother watched her daily
failing and slipping from their loving
| grasp. The delicate flush on the check
deepened into crimson, the white skin
grew yet winter, and the slender figure
dropped like flower. DR.. Packard WIS.,
tied the house daily, and sadly shook
his head.
'Lack of vitality, Joe. Nothing to
build on. Too much soul, too little
body. II can not save her."
But with Lucy DR.. Packard was al
ways jolly, and made her bedside merry
with jests and bright with flowers. She
confided to him her hopes, her faith in
her rose and her visions and plans, which
grew brighter as her own sweet life
ebbed away. To please her, the doctor
drew rough plan of little green
house and made out list of plants and
flowers for her to begin with.
The rose-tree stood in Lucy's room
and she spent hours gazing at it's fresh
green boughs. With the doctors help
she cut off many slips and pleased her.
self trying to root them in boxes of
sand, calling them her roses little chill
dren.
Slowly but surely the end came. 1t
was a warm May morning. The cham
Der was filled with the song of birds and
the perfume of the apple-blossoms float
ing in at the window. A light breeze
fluttered the leaves of the rose-tree.
Suddenly Lucy rose up in bed, exclaim-
ing: "Oh, father! Oh, mother! See
see the roses! Red blossoms on my own
rose! My beautiful rose!" A slight
gasp followed, and the sobbing parents
knew that the soul of their child had
blossomed into immortal beauty.
After Lucy's death life in the cottage
was outwardly the same. YEARLY the
father went to his work, more bent and
grave in aspect Silently the mother
performed her household tasks and to-
gether they spent the summer evenings
in their garden. The flowers their child
had loved were remembered one by one
but the barren rose received the tender
est care. 1t was as luXuriant as ever
but had ceased growing almost entirely,
while the roses children, the cuttings