The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1939-06-17
SHORT
SHORT
STORY

N-~ANH she perched on the
STORY arm of his chair, but
he did not take his
eyes off the evening news, nor his
teeth off his pipe.
"And what, pray" he parried
haven't you got that I would bring
you home on Saturday nights?"
"Oh," she hesitated, "just things.
Surprises! Things that I'd like to
have but am not really looking for.
Stanley always brings Stella home
Easter" went on Ottilie relent-
lessly, Stanley brought her a big
bunch of violets that Saturday
night, and they were 81 bunch.
Little things like that mean a lot"
"Sure they do" Homer snorted.
"They mean eating spare ribs and
rice for your Easter dinner. I paid
81 for the duck we had for dinner
that Sunday"
Try and argue with a man like
Homer! Ottilie's pretty curved lips
Strengthened into a line of deter
mination. She would show him a
thing or two!
She joined a bridge club, and got
a big kick out of going home late
once in a while and letting Homer
wait for his dinner. She joined the
Ladies guild at the church, and was
tireless in well-doing.
Homer was swamped with work.
He took to staying late at the Of
fee. Even on Saturdays, it seemed
as though he never got through.
Everybody in the office was har-
assed and worried with work ex-
cept the new junior sales manager,
who had been there only a month,
and who did not hesitate to let
everybody know he was very much
in love. Nothing worried him, ex-
cept his appearance.
He paused at Homer's desk one
Saturday on his way out from the
office. His round young face
beamed. 1t was spring, and he was
overwhelmed with the thrill of love
and life. He counted out his pay,
folding it into three different en-
velopes.
"One," he enumerated, 'for liv-
ing, two for violets, theaters, candy,
and three for savings. She's a great
old girl for violets."
Violets! The word squeezed itself
into Homer's work-benumbed brain.
Violets!
whats the fair lady's name, old
MANI" he asked.
"Ottilie-"
Homer sprang up like mailman.
"Get out of here, or I'll kill you,"
he threatened.
The ardent wooer scurried.
Homer put his things away. No
work for him that afternoon. So
that was her little game. She had
probably just been waiting for him
to find it out. He would show them
up, both of them. Heap Goals of fire
on her head. He dashed to the flo
rist's to purchase the biggest bunch
of violets on display, then to Polly
Pelham's for chocolates. Next, the
roadster for home. He sneaked in
to the house like thief, intent on
surprising them together.
A stif1ed sob reached his ears. It
came from the living room. He tip
toed in, rather ludicrous figure,
hat and tie awry, a flower box UNI
der one arm, and the chocolates I'M
der the other. Ottilie, alone, curled
up on the davenport wept tears of
loneliness.
49," he began vehemently, "I
scared him, did II"
Ottilie raised a tear-stained face.
"Who, Homer? What are you
talking about? Ooohl Flowers!
Candy! What're you celebrating?"
Seeing you get them every Sat
urday night" this more vehement
ly, 'when I'm working like fool to
get you the bare necessities of
life"
why, Homer, l haven't gotten a
violet since long before we we're
married."
"Do you mean to tell me that
that young Bob Morrison doesn't
bring you violets or something
every Saturday night?"
Ottilie laughed.
"Poor, deluded boy" she cried,
rocking back and forth in her mirth.
''He's going with my cousin, Ottilie.
My little namesake. How stupid of
you not to think Of her. She called
me up this afternoon to tell me that
if he dared to propose again she'd
have to accept"
Laurel Priced by Greeks
Laurel was priced by the Greeks
as token of safety and as a pre-
ventive of illness. 1t was hung upon