had very red cheeks and loved to sleep
late in the morning, was called Poppy Flower, and so on. This charming
suitableness of their names was owing to Father Flower. He had a theory
that a great deal of the misery and discord in the world comes from
things not matching properly as they should; and he thought there
ought to be a certain correspondence between all things that were in
juxtaposition to each other, just as there ought to be between the last
two words of a couplet of poetry. But he found, very often, there was no
correspondence at all, just as words in poetry do not always rhyme when
they should. However, he did his best to remedy it. He saw that every
one of his children's names was suitable and accorded with their
personal characteristics; and in his flower-garden--for he raised
flowers for the market--only those of complementary colors were allowed
to grow in adjoining beds, and, as often as possible, they rhymed in
their names. But that was a more difficult matter to manage, and very
few flowers were rhymed, or, if they were, none rhymed correctly. He had
a bed of box next to one of phlox, and a trellis of woodbine grew next
to one of eglantine, and a thicket of elderblows was next to one of
rose; but he was forced to let his violets and honeysuckles and many
others go entirely unrhymed--this disturbed him considerably, but he
reflected that it was not his fault, but that of the man who made the
language and named the different flowers--he should have looked to it
that those of complementary colors had names to rhyme with each other,
then all would have been harmonious and as it should have been.

Father Flower had chosen this way of earning his livelihood when he
realized that he was doomed to be an unappreciated poet, because it
suited so well with his name; and if the flowers had only rhymed a
little better he would have been very well contented. As it was, he
never grumbled. He also saw to it that the furniture in his little house
and the cooking utensils rhymed as nearly as possible, though that too
was oftentimes a difficult matter to bring about, and required a vast
deal of thought and hard study. The table always stood under the gable
end of the roof, the foot-stool always stood where it was cool, and the
big rocking-chair in a glare of sunlight; the lamp, too, he kept down
cellar where it was damp. But all these were rather far-fetched, and
sometimes quite inconvenient. Occasionally there would be