SELLING FLOWERS.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2479, 3 May 1909, Page 3

SELLING FLOWERS.

[BY THE AUTHOR OF " EAST LYNNE.”] On a certain day in the first week in April, 1867, there stood a man against the wall that bounds the north-west corner of the Regent's Park. It was a bitter cold day, in spite of the sun shining with full force and warmth on that particular spot, for the cruel northeast wind was keen and sharp, cutting its way into delicate frames. The man looked like a countryman, inasmuch as he wore what country people call the smock-frock ; he was a tall, dark-haired man, about fortyfive, powerfully made, but very thin, with a pale and patient face. Resting on the ground by his side was a high round hamper—or, as he called it, a kipe—containing roots of flowers in blossom, primroses chiefly, a few violetsy&nd a green creeping plant or two. The man was not a countryman by habit now ; he had become acclimatized to London. He had been up by daylight that morning and on his way to the woods, miles distant, in search of these flowers. He dug up the roots carefully, neatly enveloped them in moss, obtained close by, tying it round with strips of long dried grass. It was nearly ten before the work was over and the roots packed, blossom upwards, in the kipe, which was three parts filled with mould. Lifting it up, he toiled back to London with it and took up his standing on the broad pavement against the high wall—which seemed as likely a spot for customers as any other. The clock of St. John's Church opposite to him was striking twelve when he put down his load

It was a pretty sight enough, and artistically arranged : the blue violets in the centre, the delicate primroses around them, the green creeping plants, drooping their branches gracefully, encircling all. Did the spring-flowers remind any of the passers-by of their spring?—of the green lanes, (be mossy dells which they had traversed in that by-gone time, and plucked these flowers at will ? If so, they had apparently no leisure to linger over the rcminiscense, but went hurrying on. The man did not attic any one to buy ; he left it to them.

The hours went on. At three o’clock he hr,cl not sold a single root, He stood theic silently ; waiting, waiting ; his wistful face less hopeful than at lirst. He did not much expect gentlemen to purchase, but he did think ladies would. They swept by in numbers, well-dressed women in silk and velvet, »nd gay bonnets gleaming in the sunny day; tome were in carriages, more on foot; but they passed him. Occasional glances were :ast on the flowers ; one lady leaned close to .icr carriage-window and gazed at them until she was beyond view ; two or three had stopped with a remark or question; but they did not buy. As the clock struck three the man took a piece of bread from his pocket and ate it, going over to the cab-stand afterwards for a drink of water. He had eaten another meal while he was getting up the roots in the morning, and washed it down with water from a neighbouring rivulet. Better water that than this.

"Not much luck this afternoon, mate ch ?" remarked a cab-driver, who had been sitting for some time on the box of his fourwheeled cab.

"No," replied the man, going back to his post. Almost immediately the wide path before him ooemed crowded. Two parties, acquaintances apparently, had met from opposite nays. They began talking ecgerly: of a ball they were to be at that nlgkt; of a mis sionary meeting to be attended on the morrow; of various plans and projects. One lady, who had a little girl’s hand in hers, held out a beautiful bouquet. "I have been all the way into Baker Street to get it,” she said. " Is it not lovely ? It was only seven-and-sixpence. I felt inclined to take a cab and bring it home, lest the hot sun should injure it." A good deal more talking, the man behind standing unnoticed, and they parted to go on their several ways. But the little girl had turned to the kipe of flowers and her feet were glued to the pavement. The flaxen hair flowing on her shoulders was tied with blue ribbons, the colour of her eyes.

" Mamma, buy me a bouquet." The lady, then arrested, turned round and cast a glance on the flowers. " Nonsense,” she answered rather crossly. " But they are primrose flowers, mamma ; do buy me some.” " Don't be tiresome, Mina ; those are roots, not flowers; come along ; I have no time to spare." She made quite a dazzling vision in the poor man's sight as she went away with the child ; the silk gown of bright lavender, the white lining of the black velvet mantle, as the wind blew back its corners, and the monstrous gold net stuffed with yellowish hair that stood out from her head behind, and glittered in the sun. How fashionable it all was, and free from care, and indicative of wealthy ease ! but you must not blame the man if life did seem to him for the moment to be dealt out unequally. Seven-and-si.\pence for a bouquet, and a cab to carry it home in ! He did not see a lady crossing the road until she stood before him. A quiet, gentle Ir.dy this, very much lacking in fashion, especially in the matter of back hair. "Are thev roots or flowers ?” she asked.

" Roots." His natural civility had gone out of him ; a feeling of injustice was chafing both temper and spirit, •' Roots are of no use to me,” she observed, thinking him very surly. " You do not seem to have sold many.” " I have sold none. 1 had a walk of some hours to get the roots ; I’ve stood here in this blessed spot since twelve o'clock; and there’s the kipe as I set it down." " Kipe ! he is country-bred,” thought the lady. As she was. " The ladies in their grand dresses have been going by a-foot and in their carriages, md not one of them has offered to lay out a penny on me. They’d go into a shop and give half-a-crown for a pot o’ flowers; they'll give their seven-and-sixpence for their bouquets: but they won’t help a poor man, trying to get a living.” He spoke almost fiercely, not looking at her, but straight before him. This sort of thing was not pleasant, and the lady prepared to depart. Feeling in her pocket for some halfpence, she found a penny only, and would have given that to him. " No ; I will not take it. If I can’t earn an honest penny, I’ll not take one in charity.” She walked on, glad to leave the man and his incivility. Besides, she had just before been upset by the rude girls that congregate in those as in other parts of London, importuning her to buy flowers. This man was different. She began to think—well, of many things; and she went back to him with a sixpence in her hand ; the face looked stern yet: but it was an honest face and very pale "Will you take this?” she gently asked, holding out the sixpence. He shook his head. " No, no. I'll not take money without giving goods in return T would be as good as a fraud.” "But they are roots; and I can't carry ihem.” No answer. " How do you sell them?" "Threepence a-piecc." " Have you any children ?" <■ y—es." The hesitation was caused by his innate truthfulness. He had but one child, but his temper just now would not allow him to explain. " Then let me buy two of these roots, and you ktep thera and give the flowers to yotu