Poppy

“ Poppy's mother was very much worn and exhausted, and Enoch and Elijah did nothing but cry. Hour after hour they cried, not a loud, angry scream, such as strong babies might give, but a weak, weary wail, which went on, and on, and on, till Poppy felt as if she could bear it no longer. ”

“ The homesickness and redness of weeping had gone forever from her eyes, for they were looking now upon the King in his beauty! In her hand, now cold and waxen, she held one little silky poppy, red with edges of white. Polly had gone home.
There was a whisper among the poppies that grew behind the cookhouse that morning as the first gleam of the sun came yellow and wan over the fields; there was a whisper and a shivering among the poppies as the morning breezes, cold and chill, rippled over them, and a shower of crystal drops mingled with the crimson petals that fluttered to the ground. ”

“ But Poppy must keep quiet, and let Nelly wait on her for a few days."
"Are fits bad, mamma? and does it hurt much to die?" asked Poppy thoughtfully.
"If people are good while they live, it is not hard to die, dear," said mamma, with a kiss; and Poppy hugged her, saying softly,—
"Then I'll be very good; so I won't mind, if the jaw-lock does come."
And Poppy was good,—oh, dreadfully good! for a week. Quite an angel was Poppy; so meek and gentle, so generous and obedient, you really wouldn't have known her. ”

“ What outline its petals really have, however, is little shown in their crumpled fluttering; but that very crumpling arises from a fine floral character which we do not enough value in them. We usually think of the poppy as a coarse flower; but it is the most transparent and delicate of all the blossoms of the field. The rest—nearly all of them—depend on the texture of their surfaces for colour. But the poppy is painted glass; it never glows so brightly as when the sun shines through it. ”

“ He breathed sharply. God! What strange scent of a lost dream was here? What sweet, elusive fragrance of a most dear memory!
He took hold of her hair as though he would have torn it from her head. A light was in his face—he drew her to him, staring into her eyes.
"Poppy? ... Poppy! ... not a dream?... Not the ravings of fever?... Poppy!" He held her hair across his face as though smelling some wonderful flower.
"Eve ... did you not say to me, 'If I were stricken blind in this hour—'" she stopped.
"'—from ten thousand women I could search you out by the scent of your hair,'" he finished. ”

“ They say you can tell a man of Kent or a Somersetshire man; certainly you can tell a Yorkshire man, and this fellow could only have been a man of Devon, one of the two main types found in this county. He whistled; and out came Pasiance in a geranium-coloured dress, looking like some tall poppy—you know the slight droop of a poppy's head, and the way the wind sways its stem.... She is a human poppy, her fuzzy dark hair is like a poppy's lustreless black heart, she has a poppy's tantalising attraction and repulsion, something fatal, or rather fateful. ”

“ In a priceless vase near the open window they held their heads in high disdain—those four red poppies who had gleefully chuckled and chatted together on the yesterday; but the fifth and silent poppy drooped upon her breast. I turned to go; she did not stay me; I stole to the door. "Take us away with you," cried those four garrulous poppies; "we are willing to die, and at once if need be, but not here in her hateful presence. Take us away." But the poppy on her breast only drooped and drooped the more and said not a word. ”

“ When the summer had passed away, and the bright blossoms one by one withered and died before the autumn's cool breath, the Poppy cheerfully scattered her little seeds on the earth, and laid herself down to die; for she knew that when another spring should come, and her children should shoot up from the ground, they would be nurtured as tenderly, and prized as highly as those of the sweeter and far more beautiful flowers. ”

“ The Poppy, who was as ignorant as was any one else how she had found her way into the garden, now began to reason with herself.
"Some one must have planted me here," she said; "and though I am not as sweet as that proud Carnation, nor so elegant as that dignified Dahlia, I may have as much right to remain here as they!" and she raised her head erect, and spread out her broad, scarlet petals, with their deep, ragged fringe, hoping to attract the notice of the little girl. ”

“ The Yellow-horned Poppy (Glaucium luteum) will no doubt have attracted the attention of many from the peculiarity of its habitat, growing and flourishing as it does by the seashore, where little else appears to thrive, and by the delicate green of its foliage, the brilliant yellow of its blossom, and its spreading growth, covering large expanses of the shingly beach with a very striking and beautiful carpet. ”

“ It made her think of heaven, and of God who made the stars. 'God is near,' said Poppy to herself. 'Mother says He is always close beside us. Oh, dear, I quite forgot—I've never said my prayers to-night.'
The child knelt down at once on the cold stone steps, and prayed, and her little prayer went up higher than the towers of that great cathedral—to the ears of the Lord, who loves little children to speak to Him.
'O God,' prayed Poppy, 'please take care of me, and Jack, and Sally, and please don't let mother be frightened, and please make the babies go to sleep; for Jesus Christ's sake. ”

“ Poppy used to see her poor mother pacing up and down, backwards and forwards on the bedroom floor, trying to hush one of the [Pg 21] fretful children to sleep. And then she would creep out of bed and say, 'Give it to me, mother, you are so tired and so cold.'
And then Poppy would take her turn in that constant tramp, tramp across the floor, and at last, when the happy moment came, if it ever did come, in which both babies were worn out with crying and were laid asleep beside her mother, Poppy would creep cold and shivering into bed, and the night would seem all too short for her. ”

“ One Saturday afternoon, at the end of the summer, as Poppy was playing with them outside the lodge, she caught sight of a man coming quickly down the road. She ran to open the gate for him, but as she did so she gave a sudden cry of joy. It was her father, her long-lost father, come home again!
'Why, Poppy,' he said, 'my own dear little woman, what are you doing here? ”

“ My mind will never, never be well again, dear Poppy."
"Would it ease it to unburden?" said Poppy. "Sometimes it's a wonderful soother to speak out about what worries one. At Aunt Flint's I used to let fly my worries to the walls for want of a better confidant. You think over about unburdening to me, Miss Daisy. I'll promise to be a safe receptacle." ”

“ But the Poppy is painted glass; it never glows so brightly as when the sun shines through it. Whenever it is seen against the light, or with the light, always it is a flame and warms in the wind like a blown ruby."
"Gather a green Poppy bud, just when it shows the scarlet line at its side, break it open and unpack the Poppy. The whole flower is there compact in size and color, its stamens full grown, but all packed so closely that the fine silk of the petals is crushed into a million of wrinkles. When the flower opens, it seems a relief from torture ”

“ She put out her hand to Poppy. If Poppy had eyes like Monna Lisa, she herself had the hands of that Mother of all saints and sinners—only a little browner.
"I would like to be your friend," she said quietly. ”

“ It gave her pain to look at herself in the glass. And she believed that her aunt made her hideous with malignant intent. Her cousins had their hair loosely plaited, and it hung nicely over their faces, and they had frills to their nightgowns. Poppy's nightgown of unbleached calico had a tight narrow neck-band that nearly strangled her when buttoned with a linen button the size of a small saucer.
Those were the nights when a thousand devils ate at her heart and fought within her, and she knew she could never be beautiful. ”

“ Yes, all, all that she had longed for him to show himself lay here between the candles; and with it their love, safe for ever. And very gently Valentine de Trélan gathered up from their restingplace the almost bodiless petals of the yellow poppy which were thus given back to her, and held them a moment in the curve of her hand. ”

“ The story of the Shirley Poppies is one of magic, that a flower-loving clergyman who in 1882 sowed the seed of one specially beautiful Poppy which had no black in it, and then sowed those of its fine successors, produced thus a variety which has supplied the world with beauty. ”

“ Up to the door he went, gave a great pull at the bell, and, when the servant came, he demanded why every one was laughing at his house. One of the young men came and told him, and asked him to come in and see the fun. Poppy didn't see grandpa go in, for she hid, and when she looked out he was gone: so she boldly began the dancing; but, in the midst of a lively caper, dolly went bounce into the garden below, for the string fell from Poppy's hand when she suddenly saw grandpa at the window opposite, laughing as heartily as any one at her prank. ”

“ Poppy waited until his cursings and revilings were only faintly heard on the air, then slipping quietly through the camp which had returned to peaceful sleeping, she plunged into the clouds of dust.
Throughout the night hours she padded along, her throat and ears and mouth filled with the fine dirt, her [42] eyes running and sore; afraid to get too near the wagons for fear of being seen; afraid to be too far behind for fear of she knew not what. ”

“ One of the first people they saw on entering was Mary Capron, standing in the centre of the ball-room, a little crowd of people about her, supremely beautiful in black lace and diamonds. She came over to them at once with a little loving pat of welcome for Clem and a brilliant smile for the others. She half extended her hand to Poppy, in friendliness; but Poppy turned away from her. She could not welcome the touch of a hand that had smitten happiness out of her life. They all moved down the big ball-room together. ”

“ When Poppy got up from the ground it was late and the door was shut for the night. The world was black save for a few pale stars. She wondered heavily where she could go and lie down and sleep. She was like a man who has walked unceasingly for hundreds of miles. She could think of nothing but sleep. She groped for the forage-house door, thinking how sweet it would be to rest there on the bundles of forage, with the smell of the pumpkins coming down from the roof, where they were ripening ”

“ Of course you are only a girl ... a good girl!... gates and girls! ... gates!..." Suddenly he leaned closer to her and peered into her face, striving to distinguish the features he instinctively knew were lovely. "Who are you? What are you?" he strangely asked.
"I am a poppy ... a poppy growing in Africa," said she, smiling subtly to herself, but trembling—trembling.
"A poppy!... then that is why your hair has that mystic odour!... 'Give me of poppy and mandragora.'... Poppies give sleep ... I believe that is what I want ... I am a sick man ... ”

“ I see no base, vile marks anywhere on you, Poppy.... It cannot all be acting ... no one is clever enough to mask a soiled soul for ever, and from everyone, if it really is soiled.... You look good—not smirking, soft goodness that means nothing, but brave, strong goodness ... and I know that that look is true ... and so I can love you, after all these things you have told me ... I can love you better than ever. But why is it, Poppy?"
"I don't know. If it is so, the reason must be that all was done for Love, Clem ... ”

“ Yet these very circumstances had perhaps gone against her ambition; for your quiet, little plain woman, provoking no envy, slips into the coteries, when a handsome, flaunting lady—whom, once seen in your drawing-room, can be no more overlooked than a scarlet poppy amidst a violet bed—is pretty sure to be weeded out as ruthlessly as a poppy would be in a similar position. ”

“ The whole family used to creep into the room and stand round the cot, while Poppy sat there with Ina's hand in hers, whispering songs between the bars of the cot, while her head felt as though there were long sharp needles running through it, and her throat and body were full of horrible pains. Sometimes the room seemed all cloudy and she only faintly saw dead faces through the dimness; Ina and she whispering together seemed to be the only alive people in the world. ”

“ Through the trees of the garden Poppy could hear the world go buzzing by—the grating of the tram-cars on the lines, the clatter of horses, and the hiss of wheels going down hill, and an occasional street cry. No one ever came down the little pathway. Only the click of the machine, the voices of Zambani and Piccanin, busy with the pots and the pans in the kitchen and yard, broke the silence ”

“ Portal darkly, "or an awful thing will happen to you—your face will be all pulled out of drawing."
Poppy unconsciously put up one hand and felt her face. But Mrs. Portal burst out laughing. "You have done it already? Well, she must like you, for she hasn't done you any harm."
"I like her," said Poppy.
"And well you may. She's the only woman who knows everything about one and yet doesn't give one away." Mrs. Portal plugged her stick deep in the sand and made a support for her back. ”

“ And Poppy, overwhelmed, could only tenderly say:
"Dear Clem ... thank you.... God bless you!" Bramham bustled up.
"We've got to clear out, Mrs. Portal ... they're going to haul up the gangway!" He turned to Poppy. "And the siren is hooting us out of your paradise. Well, Lady Carson! the world will expect wonderful things from your pen up in the silences of Borapota!"
She smiled at him with radiant, misty eyes.
"Let it expect. I shall never be able to write any more, Charlie. I can never do anything again but live. I know how to live." ”