Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1902-05-09
Any'S Birthday Flowers.


strings and pinning her veil. Amy
had usually tied her bonnet strings
and pinned her veil.
1t was almost year since she had
one day folded Amy's hands anu slip
ped into them the last flowers that
they ever would hold in the world,
but she had not yet grown accustomed
to doing for herself all the little
things those once busy hands mad
done for her.
During the time that was almost
year she had missed Amy with that
! loneliness with which mother does
miss the daughter who goes away into
the great, strange silence just when
! she is old enough to be her mothers
best friend as well as her child. Mrs.
| Dale missed all those things that had
made up Amy's life, and, perhaps most
she missed the little things that Amy
had done for her, and that now she
( did for herself.
Then, too, Amy had been her only
/ daughter. Mrs. Dales two sons were
in college, and her husband was away
from home all day. She had many in
terests and many duties, too, yet she
was very lonely. She was much more
lonely without Amy than even her hus-
band or her sons could know.
| AS she stood before the mirror, ty-
ing her bonnet strings and pinning her
veil, her heart was even heavier than
it usually was. The next day would
be Amy's birthday, and instead of pre-
pairing gifts and surprises, Mrs. Dale
was about to go into the city to buy
the most beautiful flowers she could
find to lay on the girls grave. Amy
had loved flowers, and the next day
would be her first birthday in that
other world, that world in which
mothers are never left lonely.
Mrs. Dale was thinking all this to
herself as she went into the city on
the trolley car. It was September
and it was afternoon. The car went
past fields beginning to turn brown
and between lines of trees beginning
to show among their green sometimes
red leaf or a leaf Of bright gold
The sun made the leaves all the
brighter, and it gilded the brown fields
too, and made the trees cast long
shadows. Amy had always been so
glad that her birthday had fallen on
one Of the mystic days that come just
before September slips into October
Her mother thought of that, too
She thought of SO many things about
which Amy had been glad. She was a
little less sad and lonely as she re-
membered some of them. She thonght
and remembered all the time that she
was in the trolley car, and even after
she was in the city, and walking along
the crowded street to florists shop
on one of its corners.
When she reached the florists shop
she stopped, and stood looking at the
flowers in the shop windows.
What shall I get?" she said to her.
self, Roses, white roses; Amy al
ways loved them. Or volets-it is
rather early for violets, though. Or
lilies-I might get lilies"
For a moment she almost forgot
that she was not buying them to give
into Amy's eager hands. She was not
very rich and she began to consider.
She compared in her mind the num-
ber of roses with the number of lilies
Hhe might get. She decided upon the
roses.
"They are sweeter and simpler for
a young girl like Amy" she said to
| herself, gently.
She turned away from the windows,
and was just about to open the door
of the florists shop when she saw
coming UP the street towards her one
of Amy's girl friends. She paused
and waited. She had always been
very friendly with the girls and now
she felt even greater interest in
them. She had especially liked Elean-
or Greer.
The girl was coming so rapidly up
the street that she would have passed
the florists shop without seeing Mrs.
Dale If that lady had not spoken to
her.
MY dear Eleanor, you certainly are
in hurry" she said.
Eleanor came to a sudden stop. 20
Mrs. Dale, dear Mrs. Dale, l am so
glad to see you'll" She took Mrs.
Dale's hand and held it for moment.
Eleanor had loved Amy, and she, too,
had been lonely without her. She,
too, remembered that the next day
would have been Amy's birthday. She
said not a word. but she held Mrs.
Dale's hand very closely, and looked
into her eyes; and Amy's mother ur-
derstood the unspoken sympathy.
"How are you, my dear child?" was
all that she said, for she did not yet
speak very often OF the daughter who
had died.
81 am very we'll" Eleanor said, "anl
very busy. | read the history of
music and teach children music-just
as usual, dear Mrs Dale" She smiled
just a little wistfully, Mrs. Dale
thOught