Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1917-11-01
u N IN ~ NJ IA M IA ~ N u n m
/. APPLE BLOSSOMS. /.
~ BY LOUISE OLIVER. N



breeze gently blew In the dining room
window
Finally she shook herself free from
her reyerie. Time was going and dishes
were to be cleaned up and she had
full days work ahead. She had been
so busy with emergency classes and
sewing for the soldiers that the spring
cleaning had had to wait. Now she re-
allied that IL she wished to finish be-
fore very hot weather, she would have
to begin at once. The attic was
scheduled for today. Being a model
wife and housekeeper, II 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
to 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. Irons had come down as far as
the keepsake process.
On the floor In front of an old bu-
reau with yawnlng drawers, she sorted
letters and pictures Of a time gone by
--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 lunches of faded
flowers, strings of candy spoons, rep
resenting on an average five pounds
of bon-bons apiece, photographs, etc.
And as the blossom-sweet breeze
blew dangerously in she suddenly
found herself with dry bunch of vio-
let's In one hand and a photograph of
Fred Mapleton in the other.
Why hadn't she married Fred? She
picked up the photograph again and
looked thoughtfully into the intense
eyes, and glanced rather fondly at the
dark hair waving back romantically
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
to say. Fred, / mean" and her heart
stirred uneasily. 81 wonder why / 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-halred and stout. But
Fred" she sighed softly again and
shook her head. I'm afraid I've missed
something In life. | wonder where he
is and lf--if 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, and opening II rather
belligerently, armed with n round of
copper-tipped refusals, she suddenly
found herself voiceless and unable to
move with chagrin and establishment.
,tI
mer sweetheart, of whom she had just
been SO fondly r.mlniscing, Fred Ma
pleton. Fred Of the curly hair, pas
sionate eyes and supple, graceful con
tour, but now partly bald, eyes faded
and embedded In puffs Of fat, a figure
rotund. but not portly, and clothes that
If they bespoke that their wearer had
taken the advice of Polonius, and that
his raiment was as rich as his purse
could buy, certainly attested to a short
bank account
But Ii was neither the clothes, the
| badness nor the agents case he car
ried that fairly stupeied Mrs. Irons.
1t was the eyes-eyes that spoke of In
diligence. soft living and decline, eyes
that had lost their temper-thelr man.
hood She drew back inyoluntarily,
and he caught the motion.
"Is--is the lady of the house imp
| he asked, hurriedly.
"N-nol" said Mrs. Irons family,
starting TO shut the door. Elm
sorry" she added. rather compassion-
| ately before the latch clicked.
The telephone rang three times be.
fore she answered. It was Mr.. Irons.
''That you, FLOP"
Eyes. dear
"What you dolng?"
Cleaning house"
"Oh. it's toe nice-cut IL out and get
somebody 10 do IT, I've sort of got
! spring fcver-feel as lnoony as two
1 year-old. Let's get the ear and run out
to Mayfair inn for dinner, just Us two
/ His voice was as firm and snappy as
fine steel And Mrs. Irons knew the
( clear, fearless look in his. eyes. She
put her arm tenderly around the tele-
4 phone
"All right, dear, ia love It, think
/ I've got spring fever. toe. I'll get ready
right away. It's nice Of you 70 think
Of H."