Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-07-22


superfiuous r."
A Washington young man who was
billed to appear as usher-in-chief at a
stylish wedding recently recollected at the
last moment that he had no gardenia. came
LA, azalea, carnation, or whatever is the
cheese for bridal-favor blossoms for his
coat.
His carriage was waiting and he had no
time either to send messenger or stop
himself at a florists. However, out in his
own backyard there was a splendid stalk of
white hollyhocks swaying its flower
crowned head in the sunlit breeze. He
picked off one of the crepe-y white bios
some-the delicate creamy center lying in
its outer petals, like a rose in a ruffle of
silk-and fastened it in his lapel. 1t was
white 1t was fresh, it was distinguished
looking; in word. 1t was all rght-nature
is rarely vulgar, and in this instance she
was superb
At the breakfast which followed the we'd
ding one of the guests noticed the blossom
and asked:
What is that magnificent flower, Phil?
l never saw one like it before"
Where did you come FROM asked Phil
In turn. This is passe-rose-latest thing.
you know"
No, / don't know" replied his friend.
It's nothing but holyhock," said a
girl who sat beside the first speaker
Well" said Phil, who, like Charles Lamb,
prides himself on being "a matter-of-lie
man." and doesn't mind throwing a few
whoppers around where they do the most
good to himself and do no harm to any one
else, so it IS a hollyhock, but 1t is also a
passe-rose-you heard about Miss Roosevelt,
didn't your
They had heard about Miss Roosevelt. but
not this special thing he was going to tell
them.
She likes old-fashioned flowers. 1t seems,
and she wore these to a recent affair, con-
Ep0nentlV ia
in flowers. But, of course, the florists must
give a distingue twist to everything they
sell, and they have rechristened 1t by its
French name When you pick a hollyhock
from its stem in the backyard it is holly
hook, but when you buy it from flower
shop it is a passe-rose. Yes, 1t is the very
last word as to flower fashion. I am sur
prised the bride didn't wear q wreath of
them on her veil However, 1 suppose.
nothing Will ever supersede the orange and
myrtle as first favortes at wedding
But the bride like the rest of the wedding
party, hadn't heard of the latest fashion in
flowers set by Miss Roosevelt And, until
now. possibly the reader hasn't, either
Out In Brookland there is hen who has
a brood of youngsters waddling after her
through the tall grass. and when those
youngsters come to pools and puddles they
wade right in, fearlessly as Leander
crossing the Helespont or a lot of small
boys after big rain. The eldest daughter
of the house-not the feathered daughter
but one of the kind who wear feathers on
their hats and not on their skns-after
watching them with curiosity and interest
for awhile, said to her mother:
Mamma, those are the funniest little
chickens | ever saw"
you goose!' replied her mother haven't
you sense enough to know that they are
ducks, and not chicks?"
The youngest daughter of the house lis
tened with amazement to this astounding
revelation, and after looking long and adj
miringly at the hen as she marched victori-
ously at the head of her alien family, said:
Mamma, If l was that old hen l certainly
would be proud to be the mother of little
chickens that are ducks
In Northeast Washington-just beyond the
'macaroni camps" of the workmen who toll
on the big tunnels and bridges of the rail-
way-lives wee girl who celebrated her
first Fourth of July this summer To be
sure, her bright black eyes have seen two
other Independence days, but this is the
first one that she has appreciated at its full
value and significance She enjoyed the
cra-a-ck, cra-a-ck of the firecrackers the
whizZ of the devi-chasers, the whirlng
splendors of the Catherine wheels, the brill
liant beauties of the flower pots the fiery
showers of the Roman candles; but what
pleased her more than all the other mar
velous sights of her first glorious Fourth
were the tire-freighted balloons tossing and
careening in the wind-blown spaces above
her head. Although two whole weeks of
her small life had passed since that won
derful day and night she still talked of ii
and wondered to her mother why the
Blooms don't do up no more?"
Her fathers house faces east, and almost
opposite to 1t, in southerly direction is a
large open lot. which gives one good view
of the southeast sky. Last Monday evening
her father. her mother and her small self
were sitting out on the front porch trying
to get breath of air. The little lady is
usually asleep before the birds begin to
think of retiring to their evening nests, and
this was an unwonted dissipation-which
she was enjoying greatly, watching the
lightning bugs and hearing the older chill
dren singing Here we go round the null
berry bush. mulberry bush"
Presently her parents heard shrek of
delight and surprise from their small kid,
and she came flying into her fathers arms.
"Hor me up high, papa. hol me up twick.
she cried. all excitement and Joyful antici-
patton; gee the boo'ful boon dom up"
Her father looked to find the cause of her
excitement, and in the southeast heavens,
amidst silvery CLEAN of misty cloudlets.
rising in all her majesty and beauty, he saw
the midsummer moon.