Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-02-10
Who Sent the Valentine?
BY Il. BAyTER

81 hate brothers, cried little Phoebe an
grily, glaring over her cocoa cup with
shining eyes and flushed cheeks at boy OF
nine. The boy was pulling out his mothers
chair for her and sullenly avoiding his
sisters look.
Phoebe and Peter had quarreled seriously
that morning. The children often quar-
relied, although they really loved each other
very much, A month before Peter had
sprafned his ankle while skating and then
Phoebe was the best little nurse that any
sister could be, and when she went away to
see her grandmother Peter could hardly
wait for her return home.
Now, however, as they sat at luncheon
they did not look as though they enjoyed
being together. There was a pause.
Phoebe turned away from Peter and said:
Mother when is St. Valentines day this
year?'
1T Is always on the 18th; that will be
next Monday, will 1t not?" answered her
mother.
Next Monday-and today is Wednesday!
Oh, l do hope l will get real valentine
this year." cried little Phoebe excitedly.
BY real valentines 1 mean those that are
made for me by some of the children who
paint or write them all by themselves. Per-
haps l will get real one this year! On,
hope soi'
st. valentine day seemed the CliliQrSh
very slow in coming this year
The quarrel between Peter and Phoebe
made the rest of the week miserable for
them both Neither would speak until the
other had begged pardon, and both were
too proud to admit being partly In fault
When the day before st. Valentines came
Phoebe was quite tired of the quarrel, and
Peter felt as if he could not bear 1t any
longer.
1T was all my fault" he thought on his
way upstairs after lunch. IF could only
show her that am sorry without speaking
Il know what / will doi'' he exclaimed
suddenly; and he ran up the stairs to ms
own room. ~'- s~----- "a
That evening from the nursery window
Phoebe saw Peter run down to the mail
box at the corner of the block.
At supper he looked quite cheerful, but
said nothing as usual.
The next morning Phoebe went down 10
breakfast feeling very unhappy about the
quarrel, but unable to make 1t up. Since
he will not ask my pardon when 1t was
really his fault, why should try to make
it up? We shall just go on quarreling and
perhaps never speak to each other again
for ever and ever!' thought. the little girl
AS she went into the dining room she was
trying hard not to cry But at her place
she stood still and uttered a cry of delight
There lay big white envelope with rose
buds painted on it.
"A valentine! A valentine! she cried,
waving it so her father and mother could
see.
Eyes, dear" answered her mother smiling.
"Open it and see IL you can tell where 1T
comes from
Phoebe tore open the envelope and drew
out the valentine.
In the center was drawn the head of a
little girl with yellow eurls, big blue eyes
and very pink cheeks 1t looked as though
the child who made 1t had drawn 1t from
doll Around the head in a circle were
pasted blue fofget-me-nots which had evil
IDENTIFY been cut from an old seed catalogue.
IT was the biggest and most ambitious val
eutfne Phoebe had ever received; below was
written little verse.
isn't 1t lovely?" she cried, delighted.
'And see the poetry-not printed, but writ
ten with pen and Ink, SO some one really
wrote it just for me! Let me read 1t to
you"
And she read:
"This verse Is an apology,
To beg forgiveness, dear Phoebe
For all the fault was mine
We have not spoken for week.
1t makes me wretched not to speak,
For you're my valentine
s'What does all that about not speaking
for a week mean" asked her father, laugh
ing as she finished reading.
tsDo you know who sent 1t, dear"' In
CURED her mother.
But Phoebe did not look surprised It's
the best valentine 1 ever had" she said
without answering.
A few minutes later when she and Peter
left the dining room together she touched
his arm and said softly: Peter, am very