The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1913-05-23
A STORY OF W0LETS

ounch." The fower-girl, eagerly Quoo
lions each hurrying face.
London street, it, rows OF gauut
houses; the heavy atmosphere, sui
fused with faint veil Of gray fog
the dull, monotonous rumble Of trafno,
the weary feeling Of struggling human.
lily, the sound Of anxious footsteps has.
tening along the paved road Of life.
The only color In this dim picture q
patch Of violets-violets heaped IN
profusion on the fower-girrs tray. VI
Diets, whose breath, laden with 4 thou
sand memories. floats on the sitting
air and creeps unbidden, It may be un-
welcome, into the very heart Of every
passerby.
The city man, his mind running IN
figures, pulls up short to buy q bunch
OF the flowers, whose sweet scent stirs
his dull memory into activity, telling
him that he still possesses Q heart
Emotions, long stilled, memories BIT
ter-sweet, youthful dreams awakened
by the fragrance of those violets, rise
persistently all day long. following
him, Juggling at his sleeve, even In TIE
midst Of the all-abiding worship Of
Mamman.
Poor little modest dowerl"
youth. battling with the harder side
OF life. looks down with pity on the
bunch Of violets in his hand. Like q
soft caress their breath touches his
sensitive heart, raising him above the
hum of city life into the fools pasI
adise" Of fancy.
Two girls approach: one L. richly
dressed. The nower-girl steps eagerly
forward. her monotonous cry ohane
Ing to note Of earnest Interrogation.
The elder of the two waves aside the
modest English flower; the more q.
pesive Parma violet Ia selected-they
remind her Of Nice and Of the Carnk
val. Her companion, in the plain
brown dress, scarcely hears these fin.
pant remarks. Bending over the tray
Of English violets, she has become nm,
conscious 1T Der surroundings. The
violets whisper in her ear Of babbling
brook and the song Of birds. She
sees her homo--the tiny cottage, her
mothers smile; her little brother, for
whose sake abe has left that simplA
happy life to live In the glare Of Lon
don society, where abe must silently
endure thousand yelled insults that
only a dependent can understand.
When she turns away violet glistens
In the feeble sunshipe-a tear from
lonely. sympathetic heart lies, like
dewdrop, on the violet's breast.
All day long the vioIsts pour out
their fragrant life on the sullsn air.
growing fainter, fading away az the
day wears on. Hundreds hurry past.
Few allow themselves to catch the
sweet thoughts that hover round the
flowers; fewer still have time to stop
and buy. The hower-girl knows moth
Ing OF this magic fragrance. The
scent of tray full Of fresh violets
brings back the picture Of a cold,
bleak morning. noisy market, the
beginning Of hard days. work and
vague, uneasy auestioIings prompt
ed by pangs Of hunger. Far dearer 70
her heart than che tairest flower II
The sight of a little heap of dirty COD.
pers, counted out on An empty tray.
A Observation-Disclosures couple stop
before the aowsc-girl. The man Of
Fers his companion q bunch Of Eng
ish violets, but as before, they are
scornfully declined.
Parma violets look 20 well on fur,
English violets are 20 common!" she
explains.
The man puts the rejected bunch q
7iolets in his buttonhole. his thoughts
cap back to q forsaken memorable
street fades; the sound of traffic grows
ess; he answers his companion me.
financially; his thoughts are fas
way.
Violets, violets, nothing but violetsi
There at least In the cold solitude q
be wood that shy, most modest Of low
rs was not afraid Of being seen. The
round was carpeted with them, the
.ir was filed with their fragrance. A.
,irl sat on the 3tunp Of q tree, with
toilets In her hands, In the basket
t her side; violets profusely at her
Get; violets. soft and dark. in her
yes. As some one drew near her
olor deeDaned. an sxpsctant smile
overed round her lips.
They come to a more crowded part