Here’s a love story (that perhaps many of you have already seen) that first appeared in the 1928 issue of Modern Priscilla Magazine. The story contains the names of 29 flowers — see how many you can spot. :)
Yellow was especially becoming to little Black-eyed Susan and so when Sweet William, that dashing Rambler, invited her to a party at Four o’clock, she gratefully accepted this proof of the Lad’s love and put on her yellow dress and yellow Lady’s slippers in honor of the occasion.
First, she carefully arranged her Ladies tresses and then tiptoed softly out of the house so as not to Wake robin, her little brother. The mirror in the hall showed her that she was a Spring beauty, and that if her name has only been Marguerite she would have been a real English daisy.
Her escort’s London pride leaped high as he saw her, though, not to be outdone, he had with careful Thrift polished his own Bachelor’s buttons until they shone like a Goldenrod.
“Not one of the Fair maids of France can equal your appearance!” he exclaimed proudly. “England forever!”
A tinge of Maiden pink showed on her face as he spoke with such Honesty, for behind it she read aright his Bleeding heart. But she only answered him demurely, “I hope I shall not be a Wallflower.”
“Far from it,” he answered warmly. “I would scale Jacob’s ladder itself for a dance from you.” By that time they were at the party. “Johnny jump up,” exclaimed her escort to a boy at the door,
“and give her your seat!”
“Never,” answered the young Cockscomb disagreeably, and when pressed, he gave her lover such a blow that he saw his Love-in-a-mist. But when he saw the Bishop’s hat approaching he ran away.
“Oh, Billy, are you hurt?” she sobbed wildly.
He opened his Eye,bright with love and answered feebly, “Will you be mine?”
“Ask Poppy,” she answered shyly; while a Blush rose to her cheek. His Tulips answered in the old, old way and all we can do is wish them Speedwell.