Evening star., 1912-11-17

There is never any telling why people
do things-probably for the reason that
they SO seldom know themselves
Take that bunch of dahlias somebody
stuck in the fork of tree in front of
that marble yard on the way to Capitol
Hill.
No woman could have reached up to
put it there, and, of course, no oldish
man would have bothered. So it must
have been some young chap-and young
chap implies romance. Do you suppose he
gathered those dahlias in some garden
around meaning to take them to his girl.
stuck them up in the tree while he at
tended to business and then went off and
forgot? The average young chap is more
likely to forget his business than his girl,
of course, but-there are always excep-
tions,
Maybe-just maybe-the death OF the
year. typified by the bare. gray tree, and
the death of man, betokened by the bare,
gray headstones. may have appealed to
for the freshness of his red and yellow
bunch Artists are that way, don't you
know?
Anyhow, the dahlias famed gold and
crimson for three days. Then they began
to take on the brown that nature makes
her shrouds of. Then one morning they
had disappeared. and only the wind knows
where they went. And the wind won t
tell. 1t will whistle or moan, according
to the humor it is in. But you cant get
it to gossip, which Is a pity. The wind
must know SO many things.
: Z
Then there was that lunch OF chrysan-
themums blazing on a cart beside a
colored driver in blue overalls. The
cart. drawn by four-horse team. was
one of those long high things. shaped
like a pontoon and painted warship gray
That kind.
The young driver, brown and pompously
rigid as so much bronze, curved around
the Peace monument just as the track
laborers paused in their work to let a
bouquet good naturedly, but he paid no
attention.
One big blacl. fellow with a pick
laughed out in a voice husky with rich
ness:
You sure do want to adv'tise you got
a gal! Give my love to her an tell her not
10 worry bout me, I'm gwine call on her
an bring her a box of oshterS Steader'n
cheap flowers. Tell her be patient, I'm
comm"
The driver wasn't noticing chaff like
that. He just drove on with his chrys-
anthemums, which, somehow. made as
vivid a mind picture of a girl to match
his youth and brownness as that other
picture of CLEOPATRA and Antony on a
barge. And twice as genteel.
Flowers in vases are all right, and
fpwers IN gardens are better. But when
flowers are used to decorate a romance
IL invests them with a glamour that
that-oh, well. not TO be so extra fussy
about t., there's nothing like romance
Even when you have to make it up your
self out of-say-a couple of punches of
flowers you come across in the street
x = = 4
This is a serious old world but IL
doesn't take much TO make il laugh For
instance:
man so bald that his head was an
all-over pink polish sat in "a car beside
a woman with a luxuriant crop of hair
All her own. There We're heavy braids
| that wreathed her head until it almost
deforned her, and though the braids were
tackled down with heavy horn pins. ii
seemed that a backward bend would
send the whole weight tumbling over the
woman's shoulders.
Above the two was card ad de-
| picting the amazing results of hair re-
storer, as pictured by two heads labeled
respectively Before and after
| \ passenger caught on to the realistic
exhibit made by the bald man and lux
uriantly haired woman. Then a wave
/ psychic, not marcelle-reached out from
him and connected with the notice-wirt
| OF other passengers, and everybody smiled