10 AUTOBIOGBAPHY AND 



learned French orthography. A few days after the 

 coining of that description of a leaf "like a gardener's 

 trowel," he gave me a chance to retaliate. We were 

 potting some carnations. A young man, with me, 

 were potting, and he, the " neologist in description, 

 was writing the labels, and threw them to us on the 

 floor where we were potting, bent on our knees no 

 potting bench. I supposed it was for the purpose of 

 doing penance it was in Lent time ! (I feel that I 

 am overstretching.) I caught a label spelt wrong, and 

 as it was only a few moments since he had laughed at 

 me, I thought the occasion was a good one to recipro- 

 cate, so I told him that name was incorrect in my 

 village we spelt it with a double r. " You think so, 

 Mr. The Doctor ! " " I do not think, I am sure of 

 it ! " On that affirmation he started like a runaway 

 horse. The young man with me asked what was the 

 matter with the boss. I told him, " I think he has 

 gone to his room to look in his dictionary to see if I 

 am right." What, right? that young philosopher some- 

 what belonged to the school of our boss, and thought 

 it childish to get mad for one letter more or less, but 

 he was a philosopher of the sect of the quiets, and did 

 not trouble himself any more about the incident. From 

 that time our boss did not make any more jokes on my 

 local expressions, but did not like me any better. I 

 remained under his sway about eighteen months, till 



