Photo by Flickr user Martin_Heigan. Used under a Creative Commons license.

Zwicky Arnold of Language Log,in the course of raising a grammatical point about the use of the word “shall,” says

On ADS-L, Fred Shapiro (following up on a lead from Barry Popik) has posted the following antedating of Father’s Day, which the OED currently has from 1943:

1908 Boston Globe 19 May 10 (ProQuest Historical Newspapers)  Why doesn’t somebody suggest the idea of having a “Father’s day,” when everybody in the country shall wear a modest violet in honor of poor Father?

I don’t know why the writer suggested a “modest violet”, but the idea seems never to have caught on. Instead, as the holiday was commercialized, the celebration came to center on giving “poor Father” characteristically “masculine” gifts: tools, gadgets, golf equipment, grilling equipment, supplies for hunting, fishing, and camping, items associated with sports (especially football), stock car racing, and beer drinking, and so on.

He said it here.

Comments on that post are closed, for reasons unclear to me. But I can answer his question. I have no idea how I know this, but some time between the late Victorian era and the late Edwardian there was a sort of pre-internet meme among romantics where symbolic messages were “composed” using the meanings of different flowers arranged in bouquets. And so a moment of Googling revealed that, according to New-Age.co.uk

Violet Violet – faithfulness and modesty – during mediaeval times violets were believed to provide protection from evil spirits, and the leaves were used on wounds as healing plasters. When Napolean Bonaparte married Josephine she was said to have worn violets, and he sent her a bouquet every anniversary. He apparently wore a locket containing violets he had gathered from Josephine’s grave. In medieval times the violet flower was strewn on the floor as an air freshener due to it’s sweet perfume, and a substance called ionine which dulls the sense of smell. This fragrant flower was used as a remedy for insomnia, as an antiseptic and in poultices.

Source: New Age: “Flower language – meanings of flowers – secret messages – history and folklore of flowers”

So 101 years ago a “modest violet in honor of poor father” would probably have made a lot more sense.

Interestingly this would have been towards the end of the “semen conservation” era in Anglo-American tradition where, throughout most of the Victorian era at least, it had been believed that a single male ejaculation was as damaging to male health as the loss of a pint of blood, with the result that all health-conscious men knew — because their doctors told them with full, scientifically backed, peer-review-journalled authority — that “as many as” ten ejaculations a year would lead to inevitable ill health, insanity, and premature death.

That was, of course, impossibly silly: left to one’s own devices a healthy adolescent may be able to ejaculate ten times in a day without much more than perhaps a little soreness and maybe, depending on his recovery rate, a bit of sleep loss. The flip side, of course — that ejaculations are so easily and effortlessly obtained as to render the father’s contribution to reproduction essentially meaningless — is also silly. And not without its consequences.

The faithful and simple “modest violet” father of the 1900s was replaced in mid-century by the “industrious clover” of Willy Loman of Death of a Salesman, who’s role was to make up for the deficit of his seminal “spending” by absenting himself as much as possible and working himself to death in order to “provide for his family.”

What. Ever.

Having only been a father for twelve years since the birth of my first child I can’t say I’m up on all the details. But I do know there’s more to it than either the fanciful loss of “precious bodily fluids” or the equal folly of backbreaking absence.

Instead, off the top of my head it’s all about Acorn, Allspice, Ambrosia, Anemone, Angelica, Aniseed, Azalea, Basil, Bay Leaf, Bird of Paradise, Bittersweet, Bluebell, Borage, Burnet, Buttercup, Cactus, Calendula, Carnellia, Carnations (pink, red, white), Cattail, Chamomile, Chrysanthemum, Crosus, Daffodil, Dandelion, Eucalyptus, Fern, Feverfew, Fir, Flax, Forget-me-not, Forsythia, Garland of roses, Garlic, Gladiolus, Grass, Heather, Holly, Honeysuckle, Hyacinth blue and white, Iris, Ivy, Jonquil, Juniper, Lavender, Lemon, Lemon Balm, Calia lily, Lily of the valley, Magnolia, Marigold, Mint, Marjoram, Mistletoe, Myrtle, Orange, Cattleya orchid, Pansy, Pine, Poppies red and white, Primrose, many but not all Roses, Rose leaf, Rosemary, Sage, Salvia, Strawberry, Sunflower, Sweetpea, Thyme, Tulips, Woodruf, Yarrow, and at least so far, Zinnias magenta, scarlet, white, and yellow. All that and violets and clover and you’re starting to get what an astonishing, only-a-child-would-gather-such-chaos-and-recognize-its-beauty bouquet it is to be a dad. If you let it.