50 great short stories

50 great short stories

Hemingway, poushkin, ohara, faulkner thurber, ohenry, joyce, chekhov, forster salinger,  wolfe, saroyan, conrad, james steinbeck and …

The Garden Party

BY KATHERINE MANSFIELD AND AFTER

all the weather was ideal . They could not have had a more perfect day for a garden – party if they had ordered it . Windless , warm , the sky without a cloud . Only the blue was veiled with a haze of light gold , as it is sometimes in early summer . The gardener had been up since dawn , mowing the lawns and sweeping them , until the grass and the dark flat rosettes where the daisy plants had been seemed to shine . As for the roses , you could not help feeling they understood that roses are the only flowers that impress people at garden – parties ; the only flowers that every body is certain of knowing . Hundreds , yes , literally hundreds , had come out in a single night ; the green bushes bowed down as though they had been visited by archangels . Breakfast was not yet over before men came to put up the marquee . ” Where do you want the marquee put , mother ? ” ” My dear child , it’s no use asking me . I’m determined to leave everything to you children this year . Forget I am your mother . Treat me as an honoured guest . ” But Meg could not possibly go and supervise the men . She had washed her hair before breakfast , and she sat drinking her coffee in a green turban , with a dark wet curl stamped on each cheek . Jose , the butterfly , always came down in a silk petticoat and a kimono jacket . ” You’ll have to go , Laura ; you’re the artistic one . ” Away Laura flew , still holding her piece of bread – and – butter . It’s so delicious to have an excuse for eating out of doors and besides , she loved to arrange things ; she always felt she could do it so much better than anybody else . Four men in their shirt – sleeves stood grouped together on the garden path . They carried staves covered with rolls of canvas , and they had big tool – bags slung on their backs . They looked impressive . Laura wished now that she had not got the bread – and – butter , but there was nowhere to put it , and she couldn’t possibly throw it away . She blushed and tried to look from The Short Stories of Katherine Mansfield

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