Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1905-05-03
SWEET PEAS.

77 RE you quite sure? l did want
E them so badly"
The speaker paused. The
listener on the other side of the thick
privet hedge could almost fancy there
were tears in her eyes.
For the voice belonged to woman
-of that fact Miles Cathcart was sure.
And, moreover, the owner thereof
must be young woman; not that the
point interested him much. He was
above and beyond number during the
past ten years.
And he was thirty-four now; gettiag
quite an old man-quite confirmed
E hermit.
He looked around his beautiful gar
den. where the bees ran riot in the
! honeysuckles and the butterflies made
Z free with the roses and tall virgin
lilies. Quite hermit.
He was standing between two rows
OF magnificent sweet peas. From a
glorious deep purple to the faintest
shade of pink they crept up, each in
its allotted space, between the shelter
ing, helpful sticks.
The voice arrested his wandering at
tention once more.
Are you sure you haven't any sweet
peas? am sure smell them some
where. And did so want bunch
for aunty ON her birthday; they are
her favorite flowers"
There was no doubt about the cha
grin; the tones of the voice dropped
almost to a sob. Miles pictured n
peevish face to himself.
"Shure, now, but l amt got none
such things! Them as YOU smells be-
longs next door to Mr.. Cathcart-they
does; and he wouldn't spare em for
love or money!" the old gardener who
rented the garden next to Cathcart ex-
planned.
Love or money! What had he to
do with the former?" Miles asked him
self bitterly. OF the latter he had
enough and to spare. MS his beloved
flowers testified. Years ago-ten or
twelve Mt least-he had thought that
love and he had something in common;
he had dreamed wild dreams and seen
glorious visions; but neither the dreams
nor the visions became realities "She"
went away with some one else, and
he was left behind without word
without n look, left to grow into n
bitter, disappointed mana hermit,
who avoided all his fellow creatures,
and gave the hulk of what remained
Of himself to his garden in the sunny
southern fishing village to which he
had drifted.
"Wouldn't-don't you think you
could go in and ask Mr.. Cathcart to
spare you just few? The fragrance
Is so-strong; he must have hundreds,
and he can't want to keep them all to
himself" the speaker went on, implor-
lngly.
The gardener shook his head.
.'Sakes alive, missy, III not be the
one to ask him!" he answered hur-
riedly. "You can do 1t an you please,
II you wants sweet pens so much; but
can't see why them roses amt good
enough for any one. Ills all the same
WI visitors; they always wants what
we haven't got-and that's straight"
Cathcart smiled to himself. on the
other side of the hedge. He hadn't
smiled for some months. So the owner
Of the voice was visitor, was she?
And she wanted what old Stephen
Walker hadn't got, but what he-NIiles
Cathcart-had!
He held his breath MS he waited for
the answer
II think will go and ask him,
them" she said, in clear, cool tones.
HE can't eat me. l suppose, and a cat
may look Mt king, mayn't it? You've
heard Of that old rhyme in Devon-
shire, haven't your"
go to. missy, with your gumin' of
me-" he answered peevlshly. IF you
gifts them sweet peas from Mr.. Cath
cart-well, I'll think differently of the
rest of your sex for ever and ever af-
forwards"
Miles heard the soft football on the
path next door. The young lady was
Carrying her threat into execution. BY
rights he ought to go indoors and not
be seen, but he chose to remain where
he was, standing between his tall rows
of magnificent sweet peas and await
Ing the coming Of
A tall, slender girl in white, with Il
big, shady hat almost hiding her flow
r-like facet Niles beard the soft