The Brunswick times. [volume] (Brunswick, Ga.) 188?-1900, 1897-12-19
A BUNCH OF YIOLETS.

n DO 4NO1I VI IN14G L Ne
There was tender allurement in the
soft spring air, as if nature were capri
eiously avoiding a definite understand
ing with the conquered, retreating win
ter. Over in the park the tops of the
trees showed delicately green, the young
foliage sending its subtle, pervasive fra
GRANGE over the neighboring streets.
The gardeners had long since begun to
set out the primly marked beds OF scar
let geraniums and shrubs, and the rich
| black soil, narrowed up i'll readiness in
dark discolorations over the lawn,
emitted pungent, pleasant odor 1t
was one of those days which depress-
ed one within doors. Escherling had
been confined to his office since morn
ing, and his ears throbbed with the din
of the noises of the city and the cries
of the newsboys He left the building
somewhat uncertain as to his destina-
ton, pausing as he stepped out Of the
elevator to feast his tired eyes for an
instant on the yellow green tree heads
to his right, and the damp, caressing
air blew refreshingly over him as he
fastened without to catch car. He
had decided to go to the park,
On his way down to the corner he
passed his old florists shop, the win
dows a glorious mass Of red roses and
early Parma violets. 1t seemed natural
| to Escherling today to enter, as he had
| fOz 117 nd
the inevitable violets, having but the
one desire to possess them. He could
promptly have furnished certain ad-
dress for them to be sent the last time
that he had been here, but as the clerk
paused expectantly with pencil in hand
for his orders there rushed bitterly over
him the depth of the wide abyss be-
tween him and the one who yet uncon-
sciously filled his very thoughts. A sud
| den decision struck him-since Elenore
Moyne was yet out Of town, what pre-
vented him from sending them to her,
| Just as he used to do? She would never
be the wiser as to the donor, and to him
there seemed AN indefinable tender bond
between them by these flowers. He gave
the number with voice which faltered
unsteadily, and, detaching few for
his coat, hastily left the building with
boyish feeling Of citation he could not
yet define.
The throbbing, heavy music of the
bands in the pavilion reached him as he
aimlessly made his way across the park,
his feet sinking deep into the young
velvet grass. The wood violet sellers
| had already infested the inclosure and
at every turn of the paths were crying
shrilly their wares. The air was loud
with the birds vespers and twitterings.
Great golden flies glittered i'll the white
| sunlight and two crimson ladybugs
coolly paraded his arm.
To his left some children were trying
to fly kite, the white capped nurse
looking her staid approval. Life had
aroused itself. Escherling felt it cours-
ing rapidly through his veins, and he
began to feel a dignifed interest in the
success of the childish amusement and
watched it's long strings with mild in
terest.
The light folds of woman's gown
arrested his attention under some trees,
and he was absently thinking what a
pretty vernal picture she made, and
tried to recall some appropriate lines Of
Swinburne's to that effect. She sudden
ly turned her head, as If at his mental
inquiry, and he forgot about the quota
tion as he walked over to her
Fortune favors me today" He held
out his hands to her as he spoke. 81
have met you, and spider crawl
ed all over my face. Is it an omen of
the summer timer She had flushed a
tender pink at his approach, but he had
not noticed it.
II do not know" she said in pretty
voice of soft intonations. "Elenore
Moyne is at home again.
Escherling felt the color recede swift.
ly from his face. He dropped her hand
with gesture Of annoyance. Besides,
there were those COMPOUNDED flowers,
the former favorite of both. He had toe
much pride to force any attempt at
reconciliation Oh her, especially since
she had taken the initiative in coldly
| phIuOA4l lS5 al DCbWS6u bn6lu. kAuu liz
had never known why, for he could not
ask aims of her.
'Surely l may plead other interests
than engrossment in Miss Moyne's &C.
tions?' he replied, with vexation, join
Ing step with her toward the swan
pond. Escherling failed to see the shy,
sweet glance the girl at his side gave
him. He was endeavoring to meet her
light talk and conversational froth halt
way, but his levity sat heavily On him.
His entire being surged recklessly with
the old feelings which Elenore's very
name summoned to life. The birds
seemed to chirp it from the boughs
above, and the bands were playing it.
A white covey Of swans sailed graceful.
ly along by their side, and they paused
to watch the gyrations Of an ugly duck.
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