COMMUTER'S WIFE 33 



until one fell day I left the hat hanging in the 

 Mother Tree, and the yellow birds pulled the puffs 

 apart to eat the seeds. 



But the most treasured gifts were the roots of the 

 old-fashioned flowers that grew in unkempt wealth 

 about his grandmother's garden. I had often been 

 there when father visited the patient old soul, who 

 was lame, and had admired the syringa, snowball, 

 and lilac bushes that almost hid the house from the 

 road, while the cinnamon roses crept out between the 

 palings, and straggled up and down the lonely cross- 

 road as if hungering for news, while in August the 

 white phlox escaping into the grass made a snow- 

 bank between the gate and the porch. 



As I remember those valentines, which, by the 

 way, had been given me by our cook, they were 

 quite startling, and most unsuitable in their gender. 

 One was surmounted by two papier-mache" hearts, and 

 bore the query, " Will you be my wife ? " and the 

 other had a scrap of looking-glass in the centre 

 framed with the words, " In this you see the girl I 

 love." 



But such a mere detail did not dash Dan'l's 

 ardour, for was he not ten years old, both romantic 

 and chivalrous, and determined to be a soldier ? 

 While I, being eight at the time, and much interested 



