236 THE FLORIST. 



A TRIP TO KEW GARDENS 

 VIA RICHMOND AND THE BANKS OF THE THAMES. 



No. I. 



Well, here we are at the Waterloo Station of the South- Western 

 Railway; tickets paid for, second class, Is. 2c/. each, and good enough 

 for modest men like you and I. 12: 25 is the starting-time; and, 

 hark ! there is the bell — the whistle — the " go-ahead ;" and now we 

 are stealing along right merrily, gliding through the stations with 

 a speed and a rattle such as no snake with the latter at his tail ever 

 attained in either respect ; and almost before we have counted the 

 change which the clerk gave us, see, here we are at the other end, 

 over Richmond Green, and by the river side, and seated beneath a 

 spreading horse-chestnut, the broad foliage of which, fanned by a 

 gentle breeze, not only affords us a delicious shade from a summer's 

 sun, but tempers the heat with its fan-like motion agitating the air. 

 What scenery ! — heavenly, beautiful, exhilarating, refreshing ! Go 

 on, go on ; rob the dictionary as you will of its superlatives, you will 

 not over-do it. But nature has her demands as well as her gifts, so 

 open those distensible compressible baskets, and out with their vitals : 

 a piece of that pigeon-pie, if you please ; — just holds a pair — " lovely 

 in life, united in death," as the tomb-stones have it : a steak too, 

 and some hard eggs ; long life to the cook! Cut away; you the plate, 

 I the dish : no tricks upon travellers — a fair share of the gravy, if you 

 please ; and just draw the cork of that bottle of Sauterne you have 

 hung with such judgment by a string into the stream running before 

 us. How deliciously cool ! health to the vintner ! And thus gently 

 refreshing our walking powers, as we transfer the contents of our 

 baskets to a better position for porterage than the ends of our arms, 

 let us look about us awhile, and then wend our way to the Gardens 

 of Kew. Ah, me ! well may poets sing of this part of " Merrie 

 England." Merry, indeed ; for here comes the City-barge, and many 

 a lesser one, with the now nearly full tide ; all crowded with pleasure- 

 seekers like you and I, only in their full-blown garb, and depending 

 more upon knife, fork, and spoon for enjoyment, than on the beauties 

 of nature around them. Hear the music — see the dancers on the 

 deck! Come, let us up, empty our bottle — 'tis a light beverage — 

 shake out and pocket our compressible baskets, and be off. Opposite 

 us is the beautiful property, St. Margaret's, just passed from the Mar- 

 quis of Ailsa to Mr. Petre ; next it is Gordon House — sweet spots 

 both of them for a summer's residence, with beauty dipt but not 

 spoilt by the railway-bridge thrown over the stream by Mr. Locke, 

 and hiding the old picturesque one that spans the river just above it. 

 Nothing, however, for you and I to lament over; for without the rail 

 we had wasted this blessed morning in a " 'bus." That white man- 

 sion is the Dowager Lady Cooper's — a charming place, and could not 

 be in better hands, — a blessing to the neighbourhood, I have often 

 heard. Those cuttings, as they appear through the trees on the 



