The Argosy — page 383: what you’re looking at

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

362 Paul Smith, A.R.A. the past confronted her. No need to read again the well remembered superscription: ‘‘To my dear wife, on the day she accepts another’s love, or on her thirtieth birthday.” | Her hand shakes, the blood flames across her face and fades away, leaving her, if possible, whiter than before. Reverently, she breaks the seal. A message of a mighty love has followed her from beyond the grave. Through a haze of blinding tears, she reads his wish for her happiness, begging her to accept the sum of 4,40,000 he bequeaths to her, as a token of his love. For further particulars he refers her to his solicitors. Unselfish Hugo! His love had watched over her in her loneli- ness and ignorance of the world; and in depriving her of the golden bait of a fortune, he had tested the disinterestedness of her lover. Was it surprising that pride in that lover, who had borne the test nobly, should mingle in the tribute of gratitude she paid to her husband’s memory ? When she again met her accepted lover, her eyes were dim with hushed tears, as in silence she put Hugo’s letter into his hands. Paul started, and deeply moved, exclaimed: ‘‘ How generous!” Then seeing the tears in her eyes, he kissed them away, adding: “I will be as good to you as he was, my darling ; better, I could not be.” A FLOWER SONG. ALL along the crowded street, | “* Here are violets for your breast, Where the people jostle, Winter time is over ! Hear her call her nosegays sweet, | Daffodils with golden crest, Clearer than the throstle. Pansies for the lover ! ‘‘ Brisk and gay, at break o’ day, As for me, of low degree, Earlier risen than any, Blyther I than any ; From the hills and far away— Give me cowslips o’ the lea— Country flowers, a penny !” Country flowers, a penny!” She has cheeks and lips of red, All along the crowded ways Bonny country roses; Of the grimy city, While town ladies lay abed ' Comes a whiff of country days, She was picking posies. Comes a rush of pity! Loud and clear, all the year, Though the town grind us down, Sign of hope to many, Here’s delight for many ; See, she brings the country near—| God be thanked for summer's crown, ‘Buy my flowers, a penny !”’ ‘“ Buy my flowers, a penny! ” G. Be STUART. CORNICLOOKS (E©) im