Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 61: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

. -. : MAIDENHAIk FERN _- Now it so happened that today, Friday the 13th of September, -was Mademoiselle Sophie’s Maman’s birthday, and the cham- _ _ pagne was in the bucket. But Monsieur Gustave knew nothing of _ this, and great was his surprise upon finding himself embosomed _ —the wrong bosom—embraced, and his fern taken from him. __ Impossible to explain that he only meant to leave his fern in Mademoiselle Sophie’s care while he visited his Tante, when _here was her Maman calling on heaven to witness her gratitude _ to it for sending the little Sophie such a kind, thoughtful, noble, _ generous possible-future-husband. Mademoiselle Sophie’s Maman bore her birthday gift—for so _ she claimed it—in triumph to the salon. Mademoiselle Sophie’s Maman was an exuberant lady. But _ she was also a vigilant chaperone. “See, my Little,’’ she cooed, taking Mademoiselle Sophie by _ the well-puffed shoulders and prudently increasing the distance _ between the young girl and the impetuous suitor by giving the girl a sharp shove in the direction of the salon, “ does not our. salon look handsome with Monsieur Gustave’s distinguished gift upon the piano? . “Yes, Maman,” said the Little dutifully, and straightway started edging herself back to the thrilling danger zone of Mon- sieur Gustave’s ardent proximity. 4 —. Toasts had been proposed. Healths had been drunk, compli- _ ments paid—“ On dirait, plutét, deux seeurs!”’ And the cham- pagne finished. _ Yet it was a sober Monsieur Gustave who stopped, on his way home, to look in at the lighted window of Madame Clotilde’s flower-shop: Ses Fleurs—Sa Couronne Mortuaire. And then, in a flash, his face brightened. For there, in the very centre of the window, between the musty _ Immortelles and the dusty Honesty stood a Maidenhair Fern— the last one left. It was just like any other maidenhair fern, so far as Monsieur Gustave could see. Prix: §0 frs. Should he acquire it? Monsieur Gustave lingered outside the flower-shop, pondering the point. Madame la Concierge had declared that she would know her own fern among a thousand | like it. But would she...? Would she...? _ Monsieur Gustave felt for his purse. A single coin, by great good luck a fifty-franc piece, was in it. Slowly Monsieur Gustave raised himself onto his toes, slowly sank back onto his heels, and thus tittupping, toe to heel, heel to toe, broke into a siffle. Monsieur Gustave was saved! comicbooks.conn