Creative Books

"Your father used to be a very gallant young gentleman, once upon
a time," said Mrs. Shaw, with a simper.
"Ah, Tom, it 's a good sign when you find time to think of giving
pleasure to your little girls!" And grandma patted her son's bald
head as if he was n't more than eighteen.
Thomas Jr. had given a somewhat scornful sniff at first; but when
grandma praised his father, the young man thought better of the
matter, and regarded the flowers with more respect, as he asked,
"Which is for which?"
"Guess," said Mr. Shaw, pleased that his unusual demonstration
had produced such an effect.
The largest was a regular hothouse bouquet, of tea-rosebuds,
scentless heath, and smilax; the second was just a handful of
sweet-peas and mignonette, with a few cheerful pansies, and one
fragrant little rose in the middle; the third, a small posy of scarlet
verbenas, white feverfew, and green leaves.
"Not hard to guess. The smart one for Fan, the sweet one for Polly,
and the gay one for Pug.


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