Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 305, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 December 1920 — Pansy Farm [ARTICLE]

Pansy Farm

By KATE EDMONDS

(ft MM, by McClw* Newspaper Syndicate.) The auctioneer turned to Ann’s father. “Sold every dum thing ’ceptin’ those boxes of flower seeds; guess you better keep ’em, Ann, and start a posy garden next summer.” Mr. Archer figured on a slip of paper. When he had finished he smiled sadly at his daughter. "When the bills are all paid, dear, there will be just enough money to keep us until spring, then —what?” Ann smiled bravely. “Don’t worry, father, I will take care of that it will be my turn to do something. I am glad the store Is sold out You can spend a little time at home now —just think of the kitchen garden we shall have next year!” “We’ll see, Ann,” he said, and bls look was not very hopeful. The Archer store had been driven out of business by one of a series qf chain stores, and as the Archers were elderly people with one daughter, they were Inclined to worry because, after the winter months were over, there was nothing to live on. Ann had never been trained for’ any particular work, and now there was no money to take up anything new. “What can I dot’ Ann asked the question dozens of times as she went over her scanty stock of accomplishments. She could find no answer until one day a traveling salesman who had been wont to call at the store came out to see her father. Ann talked with him a while. “I wish I could do something to earn money, Mr. Stone,” she said earnestly. “Do you think I could travel on the road —sell something? “Sell seeds. I can get you a position with my house to sell flower and vegetable seeds,” said Mr. Stone, briskly. “Better still, stay at home, raise the seeds yourself and sell ’em to my house!” “I should love to do that,” cried Ann. “We have the land, but I am not sure how to do it.” “You say you had some flower seeds left from the store. Get some books from the library here, and I’ll send you some more from town. Your father can knock together shallow boxes for the seedlings, and when It Is time they can be set out of doors. It will keep the whole family busy. Next year you will make enough to live on for a year—and two years from now you will be driving your own car!” Mr. Stone was young and enthusiastic and Ann was younger and pretty; the study of flowers was most interesting. The Archers worked from February, when they planted the seeds in the house until June, when-they began to reap the reward of their efforts by the sale of young plants to their neighbors and a nearby florist. “This Is the right profession for you, Miss Ann,” said young Stone as he advised the flower farm girl about next year’s needs. “Look over your books now —see how many seeds of annuals you have gathered and sold, saving some for planting next year. You wouldn’t think that pretty posies like mignonette, sweet alyssum, candytuft, pansies and such could make money for you, eh?” “It’s such a beautiful business," said Ann softly. “I am so happy about it, Mr. Stone."

“Good enough,” returned the brisk Mr. Stone, turning pink and struggling hard not to say something else. "You’ve got a brother in the city, haven’t you?” Ann paled and then flushed. All their friends knew about Frank, who was young and pretty wild, and no help to his family. “Just give me his address,” went on Mr. Stone. "I know a dandy place for him to board and a good job for him—straighten him out in no time.” Ann gave the desired address and tried to forget about Frank’s waywardness. They had hoped so much to win him back- to his home again, but all efforts had- failed. If any one could reach him, John Stone could. Another winter passed and then spring, early this year, and soon after Easter the Archer family stood in speechless delight watching the gorgeous pansy beds —seeing the , dainty flower heads 'ruffling in the light breeze. “It’s the most wonderful sight in the world,” breathed Mrs. Archer, thankfully. “Heaps better than the old store,” agreed Mr. Archer, who was hale and ruddy with outdoor life. * “Our pansy farm,” murmured Ann, and Stone, who was never far from her side when business permitted, applauded gently. “Call 1* Pansy Fann, folks,” he suggested. “I’ll have a sign painted tomorrow,” said Mr. Archer promptly. “There’s only one thing lacking to make us perfectly happy,” sighed Mrs. Archer, and they all taiew she was thinking of Frank. “Could you use another man?” asked Stone. «y e9 —we need some one to work in the -field —some one dependable enough to grow up into a better position. “I have a young man in mind —good, fellow— country boy —been training all winter at our Southern plant farms, ni send him down tomorrow. Believe me,” he ended impressively, “you can trust him to the limit.’’ The next afternoon when Ann and

her parents were Inspecting the pansies once more there was a hall from the patfi. “Looking for a man?” some one called cheerily. “Frank 1” cried his mother, and they all went to meet him. Tall and broad-shouldered, clear-eyed and sunbrowned, he told a tale of meeting John Stone. “He did it —made a man of me," declared Frank. “I’m ready to do my share, father and mother, and stay home, If I can have my little old room again.” When John Stone came they met him with tearful eyes, but he waved them aside. “Don’t thank me,” he grinned sheepishly. “I’m a selfish fellow—of course, you all know how I feel about Ann!” Ann blushed under the loving glances of her family, and her father came over and took her hand. “Stone, he said kindly, “I believe we need you In our family. Eh, mother?” “Of course,” she said warmly, taking Ann’s other hand. And somehow no one thought of asking Ann what she thought about it, but her face betrayed the secret of the girl who had made a success out of failure. “You will live here with us?” suggested Mrs. Archer, and John Stone s big voice decided the question as usual. ‘ “You bet your life we will,” he boomed.