Show Too Much for Her Marguerite Watson was n small child who like many another had the inconvciient habit of asking embarrassing embar-rassing questions before guests When her mother had company to lunch and dinner It seemed to bo her especial es-pecial delight to comment on every unusual dish sho saw on the table Ono day Mrs Watson who lived In a small town Invited some friends to lunch Wishing to have It particularly particular-ly nice she sent to tho city for can My Mothers Garden Her heart was like her garden Oldfnfliloncd qunlnt nnd sweet A wealth of buds nnd blossoms Illd In n Htlll retreat Sweet vIolets of sympathy Were always opcmnK there And lilies white and pure nclosed Ench ono a whispered prayer Foi4etmonotH there llnEfrred r To lato perfection brought And there bloomed purple pansies In mnny a tender thousnt There hopes first gncmdiops took deep root And lowered because they must There loves own roses reached toward heaven On trellises of trust And In that quiet garden I rite KOI Urn of her heart Songbirds built nests and enroled Tholi songs of cheer apart And frum It Htlll hoots back to ui OercomltiB fin nnd strife Sweet HH thn breath of rose blown The KrnKruncc of her life Allo 1C Allen In flood Housekeeping |