Gilpin observer., 1902-12-04
CHRYSANTHEMUMS.
BY FRANK H. SWEET
(CoPyRIGHT, 1902, DAILY STORY PUBLISHING Coz

She was kneeling just inside the
fence, stirring and patting the already
prepared soil of a flower-bed with
pearl-handled trowel, ordered especial
ly for this first summer in the coun-
try. And as she stirred and patted,
her lips murmured a few bars of
French labor song, and her brow
wrinkled and smoothed with the mo-
tions of the trowel. She was pretty
with the winsome, clinging beauty of
the vine; and on her lips and dimpled
cheeks was the delicate bloom of out
door toll, or. exercise-or was it mex
orable health?
Presently she arose and surveyed
her work critically approvingly.
There were many little curves and
scallops and much scroll-work trace
ry. Certainly it was very nice and
artistic. All it lacked now was the
flowers.
The costly white gloves which
reached to her elbows were discol-
ored with the soil she had been ma
nipulating, and she regarded the
stains with pensive satisfaction. Then,
as approaching footsteps sounded
upon the sidewalk, she took the trow-
ell and made a dark line across what
she considered too-large space of
white. A laborer should not be
ashamed of the marks of his toll. AS
she raised her eyes she looked
straight into a pair of admiring ones
on the opposite side of the fence.
The mans gaze was averted in
stantly, and he would have passed on.
but she stepped to the fence with a
pretty, impulsive gesture.
Aren't you Mr.. Ware Of the next
cottage beyond?"
"Yes."
"Well, I've been admiring your flow
ers," frankly, "and-yes. may as well
confess it, l was in your greenhouse
yesterday and spoke with your gar
dener. He said you had the finest
chrysanthemum in all the country
round last fall-prize takers, and all
that"
"Yes, 1 had some very fine ones,
believe" he answered, smiling back
at her. land they took several prizes
at the fair
Il dote on chrysanthemums-m of
my china has chrysantnemun pat
terms, and my latest ball gown is fig
ured with them. You see," raising
her hanG so that the tip of one of the
discolored glove fingers pressed
a dimple in her cheek, I'm counting
SO much on them for my summers
pleasure in the country. l mean to
have beds and beds, and bor6ers and
borders, and l want them all to be
lovely 1-ize-takers. know pretty
much everything about them, Of
course. for your gardener said they
only bloomed once a year. and that
they had all kinds of colors, and that
they needed oceans of water. But
maybe he forgot something and
don't want the least bi. of mistake
about anything. Now this bed," turn
ing and regarding the little circle of
disturbed soil anxiously, has cost me
a lot of thought and labor. I've been
te ling in it-with my own hands,
mind you-more than half an Eour,
and of course l can't risk any uncer-
tainty. It's all ready now for its up
holsterirg-no. l mean it's farming
Will you tell me where must get the
prize flowers, and would l better plant
them or just, stick one size in the
ground for-for slips-isn't it slips
they're called?" looking up into his
face confidingly and nodding on "of
course it's slips, but / want to hear
you say So"
"Why, no, I'm very sorry, but you're
mistaken" he answered, admiring the
delicate color which came and went