The Washington herald., 1920-07-31
SPRLNGTIME 4 La CARTE
Bv O. HENRY
By O. HENRY

her tears. The cards must be
written. But, still in a faint
golden glow from her dandeleon-
inc dream. she fingered the tye-
writer keys absently for a little
while, with her mind and heart in
the meadow lane with her young
farmer. But soon she came swift
ly back to the rock-bound lanes
of Manhattan, and the typewriter
began to rattle and jump like a
strikebreaker's motor car.
At 6 o'clock the waiter brought
her dinner and carried away the
typewriter bill of fare. When
Sarah ate she set aside. with a
sigh, the dish of dandelions with
its crowning ovarious accompani-
ment. AS this dark mass had
been transformed from a bright
and love-indorsed flower to be ar
lgnominiOus vegetable. so had her
summer hopes wilted and per
ished. Love may, as Shakespeare
said, feed on itself: but Sarah
could not bring herself TO eat the
dandelions that had graced. as or
naments. the first spiritual ban
Quet Of her hearts true affection
At 1880 the couple in the next
room began to quarrel: the man
in the room above sought for A
on his flute; the gas went a little
lower; three coal wagons started
to unload-the only sound OF
which the phonograph is Jealous;
cats on the back fences slowly re-
treated toward MUkden. BY these
signs Sarah knew that IL was
time for her TO read She got out
The Cloister and the Hearth" the
best nonselling book of the
month, settled her feet on her
trunk and began TO wander with
Gerard.
The front door bell rang. The
landlady answered it. Sarah lef,
Gerard and Denys treed by a bear
and listened. Oh, yes; you would
Just as she did,
And then a strong voice was
heard in the hall below. and Sarah
Jumped for her door, leaving the
book on the floor and the first
round easily the bears.
You have guessed II. She
reached the top OF the stairs as
her farmer came up. three at a
jump, and reaped and garnered
her, with nothing left for the
cleaners
Why haven't you written-oh
Why" cried Sarah.
New York is a pretty large
town, said Walter Franklin. 81
came in a week ago TO your old
address l found that you wen.
away on a Thursday. That con.
soled some; it eliminated the pos
sible Friday bad luck. But II
didn't prevent my hunting for you
with police and otherwise ever
since"
Il wrote" said Sarah, vehem,
emily.
Never got it"
Then how did you find me?'
The young farmer smiled a
springtime smile.
Il dropped into that Home Res
taurant next door this evening
said he. Il don't care who knows
it; l like a dish Of some kind OF
greens at this time of the year. ]
ran my eye down that nice type
written bill OF fare looking for
something in that line. When ]
got below cabbage. ] turned my
chair over and hoIlered for the
proprietor. He told me where you
lived"
Il remember" sighed Sarah
happily. That was dandelions
below cabbage"
I'd know that cranky capita
w way above the line that your
typewriter makes anywhere in
the world" said Franklin.
Why, there's no W in dande.
lions" said Sarah, in surprise.
The young man drew the bill OF
fare from his pocket and pointed
to a line.
Sarah recognized the first card
she had typewriter that after
noon. There was still the rayeC
splotch in the upper right-hanC
corner where a tear had fallen
But over the spot where ont
should have read the name OF tn,
meadow plant, the Clinging mem
ory OF their golden blossoms hac
allowed her fingers to strik'
strange keys.
Between the red cabbage ant
the stuffed green peppers was thu
item:
DEAREST WALTER, WITH
HARD BOILED EGG"
tcopyrlskt, 1922. by Wheeler syndics te. Inc.