The Forrest City times., 1891-09-11
THE BLUE ROSE.
BN F.. NtSDir-

O the old sort-honest as the day. as he .aayin is, an we'll brought up, ii he wasn't aslus easy to live with-an that set on tie truth, an that per. tickler-well, if it 'adn'.. a bin lor 'm being that pertickler, you gclis would ad a red aired woman to your granny instead 0 me-"
 Mrs. Minvers grandchildren nodded, and looked at ne-you know the look when there's story in the air aud you're expected to ask for 1t. But l was too shy It was my first visit to Myrtle Cottage. Lott,e Minver and l were both serving our time with Miss Blends, Modes ct Robes, aud l was only l6 then,
 "A red aired woman" Mrs. Minver went on. ''an' that would a' been a pity on all accounts, for Q was q fine man as ever see, an me bcin no slip of chit--'is sons ali measured over their six foot-an' all bin measured toO--p
 She sighed and looked out through the open door at tine narrow strip of back garden where scarlet runners and stocks and reluctant sunilowers had been coaXed to grow. We were having tea in the kitchen. The table was covered with brown oilcloth. The cups were white with mauvc spots. We had crosses for tea. and winkles, because'it was Sunday.
 "A fine man e was to be sure" she went on. That's is portrait as 'angs to the right O the parlor chm- ney- piece, just over the crockery lamp yer Aunt Eliza give me the very last fair day afore the Lord took 'er. A fine figure of man he was, my dears, and much sought after, but mighty pertickler. An so e married me"
 Mrs. Minver smoothed her black al- petCd dpfOH com pidCcutty.
 What was 1t about the red haired young ladyg" asked.
 An! that's & tale, an it just shows 'ow careful gell should be when she s courtin'."
 This sounded interesting. Do tell us the tale" urged.
 "Ohl it's nothin much to tel;," said Mrs Minver, but she settled herself against the cushions of her Wlndsos chair and stroked her left mitten with her right hand in 8 way that promis- ed
 Come, granny, tell Lily about the blue roses
 "Old yer tongue then, till can get . word in hedgeways Blue roses in- deed Spoilin story afore it's begunl We'll you must know, young lady, as was brought up in the country-a reglar Kentish apple was, my man useter say. Our home was in Kent, down among the cherry orchards. We 'ad nice little orchard oursel's an our house it was 8 wooden 'ouse all built O boards-like, not bricks like you sec 'em ere. An there was big pear-tree, as went all up one side of the house-one branch right and one left-even-like for all the world like q ladder. We useter pick the pears outer our bedroom win6er. me and my cousin Hetty did. Jargonels they was. an sight sweeter than any as goes to market nowadays.
 "Our garden it wasn't much of Ia one for size, but for howers-there! 1t was 6 perfect moral--cram full 1t was-aIl sorts-pinks, an panzies. an lilies, roses, jassermine, an sweet wlllies, an wall flowers, and spring flowers which Is my favorites outer all the flowers" |"
 "What are spring fiowers?"
 "They re a reg lar old fashioned flow er-gels used alus to have 'em in their gardens long afore you was thought of, nor me neither. Like wall-howers they be, summat, only pink. an yeller, an only one on q stock, an soft like velvet, an smelling like honey they did |, I haven't seen none O them since come to live in Bermondsey.
 "Well, our little wooden 'ouse it stood on the hill, an as you come up, whether twas by the road, as was
 
 tbe shorter way through the medders an' the hop-garden, the first you see of our 'ouse was the white rose-tree. le clomb all over the side of the ouse mot the side where the pear-tree was, but the other-there was no windows that side hehouse--and the rose comb all along--aud blow, it did blow, that rose did. Pearlwhite the roses was, or what you might call blush pink, and hundreds of 'em. It was quite 0 picter. Well, one fine summer every ross as come On that tree wasn't t white nor blush-pnk any more, but blne--a darkish blue at the hedges and palcr to the middle. Not pretty? We'll, p'raps not; but tell you there never was such a fuss made over any rcse as yo'd call pretty as there was over that blue rose. Parson he was always comin' down to see it, an brinpin' his friends, from London sometimes; an the gentry they drove In their carriages to see our blue rose an the tradesman an grocers they come in their carts from far an near An, they said. Well, it was novel ty.'
 .An' they said it would surely take the prize at the fiower-show. But i, was Hetty's rose bush. Father'd give lt her when first she come to live with us. She como quite little and ehe cried tt the strange place. an ell she took to was the white roses So father Q give her the bush--an next year father C died-about cher, , timo 1t was.
 .'6O when they said that about tn, priSe. Hetty said she didn't care about
 risss ap' 6oxer shows an' things. Ii