The Barre daily times. (Barre, Vt.) 1897-1959, 1917-12-22
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!. APPLE BLOSSOMS. !.
4 BY LOUISE OLIVER. -
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by LOUISE OLIVER.


Aor tile OllCe, slSHeu uuSonsSiousiy SeN
,eral times as the warm blossom-ladel
breeze gently blew In the dining room
window
Finally she shook herself free from
her reverie. Time was going and dishes
were to be cleaned up and she hnt
a full days work ahead. She had beer
SO Busy with emergency classes ant
sewing for the soldiers that the spring
cleaning had had to wait. Now she re
allied that If she wished to finish be
fore very hot weather, she would have
to begin at once. The attic was
wife and housekeeper, 1t shocked her
UNNECESSARILY to think that so much
dirt should accumulate in her house.
And for several hours her broom flew,
her scrubbing brush srattled, and
chamois whined over the window
panes.
At last the dirt was "out," except
what had adhered to her, and she came
10 the sorting-out process.
Reserve bed clothing had to be shak-
EN- out of it's moth-ball coma, summer
garments ousted from trunks to make
room for furs, and accumulated Junk"
sorted for the ragman, keepsakes gone
over, laughed over or cried over and
replaced in their pasteboard boxes.
Mrs. Irops had come down as far as
the keepsake process.
On the floor in front of an old bu-
Wit voxx f,o che Snrfa6
letters and pictures OLA time gone by
I-carefree, mad, happy time of her
girlhood, when as Flora Fleming, she
had hearts strung aquiver, pierced by
the arrow of her charms. The hearts
had offered homage by the usual vari-
Gus tokens that youth in love general
ly sends his lady, and Mrs. Irons now
fingered tenderly punches of faded
flowers, strings of candy spoons, rep
Presenting on an average five pounds
sOf bon-bons apiece, photographs etc.
And as the blossom-sweet breeze
blew dangerously in she suddenly
found herself with dry bunch of vio-
lets in one hand and photograph OF
Fred Napoleon in the other.
Why hadn't she married Fred? She
picked up the photograph again and
Hooked thoughtfully into the intense
eyes, and glanced rather fondly at the
dark hair waving back Economically |
from the forehead. "If / had married |
Fred" she reflected, II wouldn't be |
cleaning Emery Irons attic. I'd be |
roaming hand In hand with him mid |
the blossoms of Normandy as he used I
Ito say. Fred, | mean," and her heart |
stirred uneasily. 81 wonder why l did |
marry Emery? Just because-well, be-
cause he insisted so, | guess. He's
that kind--makes everybody do just as
he wants. And. besides, Emery was
nice before he got so deep In business
and gray-haired and stout. But
Fred" she sighed softly again and
shook her head. I'm afraid I've missed
in life. / wonder where he
is and tiff he is married." she said,
tenderly laying the flowers and photo
graph back in their box and closing
the drawer.
The bell rang and Mrs. Irons went
down, forgetting that she much re-
sembled a blue-checked beetle in
night cap.
Looking through the net curtains on
the glass door, she Identified her visitor
as an agent, aud opening 1t rather
belligerently armed with a round of
refusals, she suddenly
found herself voiceless and unable to
move with chagrin and establishment.
Her caller was no other than her for
mer sweetheart, of whom she had just
been so fondly remlniscing, Fred Ma
pleton. Fred of the curly hair, pas
sionate eyes and supple, graceful con-
our, but now partly bald, eyes faded
md embedded in puffs of fat figure
'otund, but not portly. and clothes that
f they bespoke that their wearer had
aiken the advice of Polonius, and that
'ould buy, certainly attested to a short
'ank account.
But Ii was neither the clothes, the
'aldness nor the agents case he car |
led that fairly stupefied Mrs. Irons.
t was the eyes-eyes that spoke Of In !
ulgence, soft living and decline, eyes
hat had lost their temper-their man
God. She drew back involuntarily, |,
nd he caught the motion. !
"Is--is the lady of the house in?'' !
e asked, hurriedly. /
'N-no" said Mrs. Irons family, ;:
tarting to shut the door. "I-Tm
orry" she added, rather compassion
talv hnfpra tho latch plinlrad
The telephone rang three times be- Of
,re she answered. 1t was Mr.. Irons. W
''That you, Flo?" "
"Yes, dear"
"What you doing?"
"Cleaning house." ~
"Oh, it's too nice-cut 1t out and get III
to do ii. I've sort of got ol
,ring fever--feel as moony as two -
ear-old. Let's get the car and run out
Mayfair inn for dinner, just US two"
is voice was as firm and snappy as
he steel. And Mrs. Irons knew the !.
ear. fearless look in his eyes. She "A
1t her arm tenderly around the tele-
lone.
"All right, dear, I'd love It. 1 think
re got spring fever, too. TIL get ready
ght away. It's nice of you to think a
it," ~,
After all, the world was just right. y,