The Rose-Garden Husband

-whiskered and immaculately gray-clad; and he di

part of her narrative, and even the most f

roared with laughter. 'Oh, in the flood, and floating down the stream

his fingers at her at this exciting point. "

lmates. "Can't you see that Teacher's tellin' a sto

ne suspender, received these and several more such sug

o the unsocial nook where, afternoon by faithful afternoon,

ng to the elderly gentleman, who was waiting a little uncertainly at the Children's Ro

. De Guenther," said the L

means a very competent personality. Phyllis hurried somewhat with Robin Hood among his little fishes, and felt happier. It was always, in her eventles

r cards as belonging to the same family. Then, one day, with a pleased little quiver of joy, she had found him in the city Who's Who, age, profession (he was a corporation lawyer), middle names, favorite recreation, and all. Gradually she had come to know them both very well in a waiting-on way. She often chose love-stories that ended happ

Now that she was out in the light of partial day again, in the Children's Room, she ran across both of them every little while in her errands upstairs; and once Mrs. De Guenther, gentle, lorgnetted and gray-clad, had been shown over the Children's Room. The couple live

since the last time they asked her to dinner. And here, with every sign of having come to say something very special, stood Mr. De Guenthe

tered her children with a swift executive whisk, and made so straight for her friend that she deceived the chil

to see me especially

appointed, relaxe

s seat beside the rather bored Isaac Rabinowit

ch matched so admirably his beautifully precise movements and his immaculate

world always make your spirits go up with a bound, and

she said, "I am shocked

. "And how are you this exceedingly unpleasant day, Miss Braithwai

en more wildly than the Liberry Teacher did that bored, stickily wet Saturday afternoon, with those tired seven years at the Greenway Branch dragging at the back of her neck, and the seven times seven to come making her want to scream. So few things can possibly happen to you, no matter how good you are, when you work by the day. And now maybe something-oh, please,

cing mind belatedly. "He may only have come down to

g forward like pawns on a chessboard before the real game begins. She answered with the same trained cheerfulness she could give her library children w

n't he say them, instead of talking editorials? I suppose this is his bedsi

paragraph about the Street-Cleaning Department; and something else, apparently. For her friend wa

er. I trust you have no imperativ

ng had

delightedly. "No, indeed! Thank yo

n a Kewpie muffler, "my maw she want' a book call' 'Ugw

n. She was used to translating that small colored boy's demands. Last week he had described to her a play he call

of that?" Mr. De G

aining in guesswork at library school. They call them

e Guenther absently

's Birthday poster so that three scarlet cherries stuck above him i

ity library, whose office I believe to be in this branch, is one of my oldest friends. I am, I think I may say, well known as a lawyer in this my native city. I should be glad to have you satisfy yourself personally on these points, because--" could it be that the em

her heart, catching his arm in her eagerness; "Oh, Mr. De Guenther, could the

hed to it? You can't catalogue roses on neat cards, or improve their minds by the Newark Ladder System, or do anything at all librarious to them, except pressin

ere dropping his words one by one out of a slot;-"why there should not-be-a

ered. But the Liberry Teacher asked

y as if he had dropped in to ask the meaning of "circumflex," or who invented smallpox, or the name of Adam's house-cat, or how lon

er, dusty, tousled, shopworn Phyllis Braithwaite, an invitation to consider a Line of Work which was

She managed the nightly eviction with such gay expedition that it almost felt like ten minutes ago when the place, except for the pride-swollen monitors, was cleared. While these officers watched the commonalty clumping reluctantly upstairs toward the umbrella-rack, the Liberry Teacher p

a little dishevelled, a little worn. But there was really no librarian there. There was only Phyllis Narcissa-that dreaming young

f trying to find a place under "Domestic Economy-Condiments" for "Five Little Peppers and How They Grew." She laughed aloud in the sudden

ely light-hearted and laughable since Mr. De Guenther's most fairy-tale vi

m up in the Circulation was telling me, an old colored mammy said she'd lost her mittens in the reading-room; and the first

was a thrilling story. Well, good-by till Monday, Anna Black. I'm going home now, to have some lovely pr

but she never has anything but canned milk in the house, thus spa

living among the fairy-stories with the Little People makes that pleasant land where wanting is having, and all the impossibilities can come true, very easy of access. Phyllis Braithwaite's mind, as sh

eedle nibbled busily down the seams she continued happily to wonder about that Entirely Different Line. It sounded to her more li

eve, "at any rate I'll have a chance to-morrow to wear mother's gold earrings that I mustn't have on in the library. And oh,

t-ropes. She never remembered Eva Atkinson's carefully prettied face, or her own vivid, work-worn one, at all. She only dreamed that far at t