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Show VIOLETS HIS PASSION: ON WHOM IS THE JOKE-? "See that little chap passing on the other side?" said the Broadway florist; "worst fellow I ever saw for throwing bouquets at himself!" The idler, who had no better occupation than getting sweet scents for nothinc waited for the rest of the story. "Really," said the florist, examining a stalk that was sickly, "he, used to ctme in here every day and order a bunch of violevs sent to him at his home in 'the fifties,' just west of 'the avenue.' ave-nue.' He kept this up for six weeks or more. I'm discreet, as you know, but at last my curiosity curi-osity ran away with me, and I asked him why. "I must have looked as if I ought to be trust- H ed, for he twisted that little blond mustache a H minute and then said: H " 'Well, you see, it's this way: My sister fl keeps house for mo and sometimes seems a lit- BBJ tie care'less. Good girl, you know, pretty and all B that, but very young not twenty yet, in fact. B Well, I take those blamed violets out with me PB every night when I start for the club or well, B elsewhere and when I get out of sight of home PAyJ I simply toss them as far as I can. Scheme Is wH to make the sister think I'm smitten on some B girl and so she keeps up the home in the hope B that I'll stick to her and not "sneak off to the B other girl and get married stick, you know, just H because home's so pleasant. Great game, eh?' Pfl "And now," continued the florist, "he's stopped rj H buying flowers and I s'pose h's gone and been Pfl married and the joke's on the little sister!" M "Maybe," suggested the idler, "it's on him, Pfl alter all." Now York Telegraph. M |