annot think why the loyalty of my dear mother and father to
Tucker, and to Thomas, should have made them saddle me with such a
handicap! They might have known I was going to sing, for I bawled
incessantly from birth to the age of twelve months. I shall have to
change my name, and you must help me to choose. Au revoir!"--and she
darted away with a handshake and a friendly backward glance from the
door.

"Can I think of another name for her?" apostrophized Appleton to
himself. "Can feminine unconsciousness and cruelty go farther than
that? Another name for her shrieks from the very housetops, and I
agree with 'Well Wisher' that she ought to take it before she becomes
too famous; before it would be necessary, for instance, to describe
her as Madame Tucker-Appleton!"

VI

These are the verses:

TO MISS TOMMY TUCKER
(WITH A BUNCH OF MIGNONETTE)

A garden and a yellow wedge
Of sunshine slipping through,
And there, beside a bit of hedge,
Forget-me-nots so blue,
Bright four-o'clocks and spicy pinks,
And sweet, old-fashioned roses,
With daffodils and crocuses,
And other fragrant posies,
And in a corner, 'neath the shade
By flowering apple branches made,
Grew mignonette.

I do not know, I cannot say,
Why, when I hear you sing,
Those by-gone days come back to me,
And in their long train bring
To mind that dear old garden, with
Its hovering honey-bees,
And liquid-throated songsters on
The blossom-laden trees;
Nor why a fragrance, fresh and rare,
Should on a sudden fill the air,
Of mignonette!

Your mem'ry seems a garden fair
Of old-time flowers of song.
There Annie Laurie lives and loves,
And Mary Morison,
And Black-eyed Susan, Alice Grey,
Phillida, with her frown--
And Barbara Allen, false and fair,
From famous Scarlet Town.
What marvel such a garland rare
Should breathe sweet od