Williston graphic. (Williston, Williams County, N.D.) 1895-1919, 1903-03-12
Pretty Polly's
|CQrndtion<<
By EDWARD b. CLARK.
RCHIBABD HACKETT. you

RCHIBAkD HACKETT, you
"a know you ought not to go on
rs you are. Here you are puttering
away in that misera BILE conservatory
three days week and your profession
is going to the dogs. You ought to be
rich man; people say you have abil-
ity enough, but I doubt it. You ought
to think more of Polly and me, and
less of your cheap pansies and mi
gnonettes. It's shame"
Nancy" answered Archibald Hack
EFT to his wife, II don't put in three
days week in the greenhouse. I
don't put in more than two hours a
day, and my profession isn't going to
the dogs. make comfortable living
at it, and that's all can do at the
law, for I'm neither Charles O'Con-
or nor William Evarts. Let me put
ter 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 % years of mar
ried life to force an angry rejoinder
from this husband of hers. To-day
Mrs. Hackett was little more upset
than usual. Polly, her pretty daugh-
ter, 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.. Hack
ct had said something bout economy,
the wife and mother had become bit
wrathful.
Polly Hackett had overheard some
of this parental dialogue, and now she
appeared on the scene. II can wear
the muslin again, just as well as not,
papa she said 1T looks dainty and
fresh, and, like Mrs. Cratchit, I'll be
brave in ribbons.''
"But, Polly, the Bunkers are so ter
ribly fashionable, and every body there
will have gown on that cost mint.
I'm afraid Mrs. Bunker and Emily will
think you look dow1y."
Don't worry about the Bunkers,
Mary" said Archibald, NOR you, eth
er, Polly. suppose they are swell
as things 60, but remember Jim
Bunker when he owned rendering es-
tablishment in the little eastern city
in which was born. There was more
smell than swell to that, though it
was an honest business, and Jim
Bunker was an honest man. Perhaps
I ought not to say it, but, Polly, he'll
be proud to have my fathers grand
child in his house, though she comes
in a gown worn score of times. And
now, my dears, 1 must get back to my
flowers. By the way, Mary, it's car
nations, and not pansies and mi
gnonettes that I am puttering with
now ~
"Well," said the still unmollified Mrs.
Hackett, II wish it was a law case,
instead of carfation. You'll never
get anything out of your flowers but
a blossom or two that will wither in
1. day" And Mrs. Hackett moved away
with. her head in the air.
It was the night of the Bunkers'
reception. Polly Hackett, prettier
than the proverbial picture in her mus
lin and ''brave in ribbons" as she had
said, was ready to go to the cab stand
ing at the door of her fathers little
house on the side street. Archibald
Hatkett came into the room and saw
his daughter under the softight "You
don't need furbelows, my child" he
said, kissing her. "There'll be no pref
tier nor sweeter girl there tonight,
despite the muslin. Wear this, nv
dear; you don't need diamonds" And
he gave Polly beautiful full petaled
carnation, which showed a curious
mingling of rich colors.
Polly fastened the glowing blossom
in her dark hair, while her mother
said: "Well, 1 suppose, Archibald,
that's the sole result of the years
time you've been wasting over carna-
tons. If you had spent the time in
your Office Polly might be wearing the
diamonds that you say she doesn',
need. The other girls have them, and
those that Emily Bunker will wear to.
aig6t cost fortune"