. The long ago. he curls on mychild head all shining in harmony. Thefirst boutonniere of my life—from thebush that became my confidant through all those wondrous years before theypacked my trunk and sent me off tocollege! To be sure, I loved the bright-facedPansies which smiled cheerily up at mefrom their round bed—and the dear oldPinks, of a strange fragrance all theirown—and the Sweet William, and eventhe grewsome Bleeding Heart thatdrooped so sad and forlorn in its allotedcorner. Yet it is significant that lastnights orchid took me straight back overmemorys pathway to that simple yellowrose
. The long ago. he curls on mychild head all shining in harmony. Thefirst boutonniere of my life—from thebush that became my confidant through all those wondrous years before theypacked my trunk and sent me off tocollege! To be sure, I loved the bright-facedPansies which smiled cheerily up at mefrom their round bed—and the dear oldPinks, of a strange fragrance all theirown—and the Sweet William, and eventhe grewsome Bleeding Heart thatdrooped so sad and forlorn in its allotedcorner. Yet it is significant that lastnights orchid took me straight back overmemorys pathway to that simple yellowrose-bush by the fence! Tonight, with the forgotten orchid inmy lapel, and all the weight of the greatstruggle lying heavy against my heart, Istand where the night-fog veils thescraggly eucalyptus, and the dense silenceblots out all the noises that have inter-vened between the Then and the Now—and I can see again the gorgeous Peonies,pink and white, where they toss theirshaggy heads, and gather as of old the. flaming Cocks Comb by the little hear the honey-bees droning in theCrab Apple tree by the back gate, andwatch the robins crowding the branchesof the Mountain Ash, where the brightred berries cluster. I see the terriblebumble-bee bear down the Poppy on itsslender stem and go buzzing threaten-ingly away, all pollen-covered. And shining clear and true through themist I see her who was the Spirit of theGarden. There she stands, on the broadstep beside the bed where the Lilies ofthe Valley grew, leaning firmly upon herone crutch, looking out across her gardento each loved group of her flower-friends—smiling out upon them as she did eachday through fifty years—turning at lastinto the house and taking with her, inher heart, the glory of the Hollyhocksagainst the brick wall, the perfume of theNarcissus in the border, the wing-songof the humming-bird among the Honey-suckle, and the warmth of the glad Junesunshine.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidlongago01wri, bookyear1916
