DECEMBER. 281 



They say "it is better to be born lucky than rich ;" and you, no 

 doubt, have found out some wonderful manure, or some secret, which 

 you will keep for your own use, and I don't blame you. 



John. Stop, stop, my young friend ; not so fast : I have no faith 

 in luck, and have no secrets. 



Simon. Well, I can't understand it, then. But of course we 

 can't expect you to tell every body, if you have. 



John. Perhaps some people might call it luck, and some might 

 call it a secret ; but you see / have no Roses on Manetti stocks. 



Simon. Oh, pray don't say any thing about that in master's 

 hearing, for he has become almost tired of Rose-growing through 

 the introduction of that abominable thing. 



John. How, doesn't it grow well ? 



Simon. Grow well ! Yes, too well. It grows so well that there 

 is now nothing but itself in the way of Roses left in the garden. 



John. But are not the young plants fine ? 



Simon. Yes, fine the first year, but seldom afterwards. With us, 

 ground-shoots spring up in quicker succession, and ten times more 

 numerous, than the Dog-Rose ; and no amount of watchfulness on 

 my part could prevent the exhaustion and death of the sorts budded 

 on it. 



John. The stock has been successful then, if the sorts budded on 

 it have failed. But do they not say it is more excitable than any 

 other stock, and that Roses break and blossom earlier on it ? 



Simon. Excitable ! Yes. Last spring my Roses broke a fort- 

 night earlier than other people's, and were frosted in consequence, 

 while theirs remained unscathed. 



John. Still, as they say it has no thorns, how delightful it must 

 be to be able to bud Roses without pricking one's fingers ! 



Simon. No thorns, eh ! Well, if I was at home my coat would 

 testify the reverse of this, and only look at my torn fingers ; why, it 

 is the thorniest of all stocks. But, as we are going to throw them all 

 away, if you would like to try it, I will send you some. 



John. Thank you; but I must no longer conceal the truth, — I 

 have already tried it. I wanted a confirmation or contradiction of 

 my conclusions, and your opinions are in exact coincidence with 

 my own. 



Simon. You surprise me ! But here is my master ; and before 

 leaving, " have you really no secrets in growing these Roses ?" 



John. None but what I am willing to communicate to any one 

 who is willing to listen. Gardening, to be successful, must be a 

 labour of love ; and the advancement of it as an art should be dearer 

 to us than our own. 



In continuation, John explained to his young friend how, years 

 ago, he began by reading from the most authentic sources, and 

 worked in with his own ideas what his judgment approved. Thus, 

 aided by close observation, he founded a complete theory on which 

 he built his practice. That practice I have already detailed in this 

 autobiography. "Luck and secrets, young man," added John, "are 

 all a farce. Knowledge of first principles, experience, care, and 



