The Springfield herald., 1903-01-23
Pretty Polly's
CarnatiOn
(K&KNKKKH

Archibald Hacket, you know you
ought not to go on as you are. Here
you are puttering away in that miser-
able conservatory three days a
week and your profession is 60
ing to the dogs. You ought to be a
man; people say you have ability
enough. but doubt it. You ought to
think more of Polly and me and less
of your cheap pansies and mignon-
cites. It's shame"
Nancy" answered Archibald Hack
EFT to his wife, 81 don't put in three
days a week in the greenhouse. l
don't put in more than two hours a
day. and my profession isn't going to
the dogs. make comfortable liv-
ing at it, and that's all can do at
the law. for I'm neither a Charles
O'Connor nor William Evarts. Let
me putter away at my flowers. love
them. and it's relaxation
Mrs. Hackett's eyes snapped again,
but she said nothing further. She
never had been able In twenty-five
years Of married life to force an an
cry rejoinder from this husband Of
hers. To-day Mrs. Hackett was lit
tie more upset than usual. Polly, he1
pretty daughter, had been invited to
an extremely swell affair on Lake
Vista boulevard and Mrs Hackett did
not think that Polly could wear a
gown that she had worn twice before,
and as Mr.. Hackett had said some
thing about economy the wife and
mother become bit wrathful.
Polly Hackett had overheard some
of this parental dialogue. and now she
appeared on the scene. Il can wear
the muslin agaiu Just as well as not,
papa" she said. "It looks dainty and
fresh, and. like Mrs. Cratchit. III be
brave in ribbons"
But, Polly. the Bunkers are SO ter
rtbly fashionable, and everybody there
Will have gown on that cost mint.
I'm afraid Mrs. Bunker and Emily
will think you look dowdy."
Don't worry about the Bunkers,
Mary" said Archibald, nor you
either. Polly. suppose they are swell
cs things go, but l remember Jim
Bunker When he owned a rendering
establishment in the little eastern
city in which l was born. There was
more smell than swell to that, though
it was an honest business, and Jim
Bunker was an honest man. Per-
haps ought not to say 1t, but, Polly,
he'll be proud to have my fathers
grandchild in his house, though she
comes In a gown worn a score of
times. And now, my dears, | must
get back to my flowers BY the way,
Mary, it's carnations and not pansies
and mignonettes that I'm puttering
with now"
WELL" said the still unmollified
Mrs. Hackett, Il wish it was law
case instead Of carnation. You'll
never get anything out of your flow
ers but a blossom or two that will
wither in day." And Mrs. Hackett
moved away with her head In the air.
1t was the night OF the Runkers' re-.
ception. Polly Hackett, rrettier than
the proverbial picture in her muslin
and brave in ribbons" as she had
said. was ready to go to the cab
standing at the door of her fathers
little house on the side street. Archi-
bald Hackett came into the room and
saw his daughter under the soft light
You don't need furbelows, my child"
he said, kissing her. "There1l be no
prettier nor sweeter girl there to-
night despite the muslin. Wear this,
my dear; you don't need diamonds" Z"
And he gave Polly beautiful full
petaled carnation. which showed a
curious mingling of rich colors.
Polly fastened the glowing blossom
in her hair. while her mother said:
We'll, l suppose. Archibald, that's the
sole result of the years time you've
been wasting over carnations. If you
had spent the time in your office Polly
might be wearing the diamonds that
you say she doesn't need. The other
girls have them, and those that Emily
Bunker will wear tonight cost for
tune"
Never mind the diamonds, NAM
ma: I'd rather have daddy's carna-
tion," and Polly Hackett kissed both
parents lightly and disappeared
through the front door and into the
waiting cab.
Tho Bunkers' ball was over. and
Polly was sleeping soundly in her
bed tho next morning. The bell rang.
and Mrs. Tattler was ushered into
the parior. She had come to call on
Mrs. Hackett. Mrs. Tattler had been
hidden to the ball the night before.
and now she had come as early as
this to talk 1t over with Mrs. Hack
ett. "Oh. Mrs. Hackett," she began,
you don't know how lovely 1t was,