The anti-monopolist. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1874-1878, 1878-12-12
A FOUR-LEAVED BLOSSOM
LEAE ONE.


Mr.. Frederick Woodman, aged twenty
two, was the master of the village school
OF Peterborough, and one Of the best little
men, as far as temper and looks were con-
cerned, that you could imagine. All his
scholars-and, in fact, almost everybody.
liked him. Indeed, it would have been
very difficult not to like such we'll
spoken gentle and amiable little gentle
man.
On the day my story commences, how
ever, he was neither gentle nor amiable
He treated the schoolboys with all
amount OF severity which surprised them
greatly.
Directly he had dismissed the boys tor
the day, he locked up the school and
walked, abstractedly, into his own little
domicile, adjoining.
Taking off his hat, he sat down upon
chair, looking greatly worried, and then
burst out with:
"What fool ! was to quarrel with
poor little Nell, last night. What does
it matter if she does flirt? might know,
by this time, that she likes me better
than that other wretch"
Having thus relieved himself, ne rose,
sauntered out and paced up and down the
little flower garden in front Of the cot
tage.
Presently he was fred with an idea,
and returned to the parlor muttering:
81 know. III write Nell a loving and
penitent letter, asking her torgivness for
my hastiness last night. First of all,
though, I'll secure messenger"
Trctting out to the end of his garden,
he soon sighted a knot of his pupils play
ing at cricket, and, selecting one, called
cut:
"Hl Briggs, my boy, want you
And in another minute up came Briggs,
anxious to get IN his masters "good
books" and hot from his exertions at
cricket
Eyes, sir" painted he.
'Step, in, and sit down a minute,
Briggs. want you to take a letter for
me-"
And the little school master went in,
while Briggs sat down in the porch, fan
ming himself with an old mishappened
nat, and wiping the Precipitation from his
face on the sleeve Of his smock.
Mr.. Woodman said he would write
letter, but doing it dfound very different.
He commenced five, one after the other,
tearing them all UP in disgust. Then,
thinking Briggs would get tired of wait
ing, he employed little artifice to detain
his intended messenger, while he made
another attempt at long and penltent
letter.
briggs, my boy" said he, coming out
with the pen in his ear, "would you like
piece Of cakel"
"Oi think OF could eat joost little
crumb, and thakee, sir" said Briggs,
smirking.
So our hero went in and cut him as'lit-
tie crumb," weighing about half pound,
brought it out on clean plate, and then
retired to think what he should say N his
biilet-dour
As he sat considering, a "happy
thought" struck him. He would send
her a message in flowers.
He reached to his bookshelf, and took
down little book called THE Language
of Flowers" which he at once began
20 study, searching for an appropriate
emblem.
"Union----a perfect straw" he read
"Ah, that will do. Reunion is just what
want Now for little flattery. All,
here it is: Delicate beauty-a white rose
Hurrah That will do splendidly. have
heard her say she understood the Ian
guage of flowers. 1t WAS capital idea
of mine"
He hurried out into the garden. past
the asonishea Briggs and plucked q
beautiful white rose, after which he came
back, and asked Briggs ''if he could get
him whisp of straw anywherei7
''Oh. yes, sir" answered Briggs much
astonished, and away he went, his
mouth full of cake, aud soon returned
bearing the trophy, which he handed to
our hero, and resumed his cake and seat
in the porch, with serious doubts as to
his schoolmasters sanity.
His reflections were intercepted by Mr..
Woodnan coming out, bearing an en-
vclope, which contained the rose and
stsv carefully wrapped IN scented wad-