20 THE GARDENER. [Jan. 



have written a good deal since that time (how readily an excuse crops np for a 

 neglect of duty ! a stable article of commerce this!), and the rule "practice 

 makes perfect" (I admire the alliteration here more than the grammatical con- 

 struction) seems to have been reversed in my case. If, Mr Editor, your powers 

 of divining the meaning of what I have written, and consequently of expressing 

 in type correctly, be not greater than my facility in writing, this article will 

 serve as a useful ortliographical exercise similar to the one my poor young brain 

 was tantalised with when I had to convert some eccentricdooking word, full of 

 x's or j's it may be, into some other form conveying some rational idea. I do 

 not know whether it was this orthographical exercise-book that improved my 

 spelling or not, but certainly I was very clever in mastering orthographical 

 dilFiculties at a very early age. I am rather inclined to think, however, that it was 

 from the habit of reading much — of reading to people— and of writing out import- 

 ant or striking passages in a scrap-book, that I may fairly attribute my proii- 

 ciency in this respect. Spelling is doubtless learnt by the eye ; and I cannot con- 

 sequently think that the placing incorrect forms before a pupil is a mode likely 

 to convey accurate and lasting expressions. Here, then, I have indicated three 

 points for my young gardener's attention — he should be able to write well, read 

 intelligently, and spell correctl}''. 



I will now briefly point out how I supplemented my meagre school education. 

 Although, let me tell you, I was sent regularly to school from the age of about 

 four to fourteen, to the best fountain of knowledge in the village, yet my know- 

 ledge at the end of the period was limited to imperfection in the three R's. I 

 was a precious dunce, observe, at that time ; and my friends even now do not 

 hesitate occasionally to remind me of my stupidity. Before I proceed, however, 

 it occurs to me that I should tell you a little of my early personal history, that 

 you may perceive what a good boy I was if a stupid one. My father was a very 

 respectable man— what the world would call a gentleman, what I should say iooor 

 but proud. He had a farm, but his ideas connected with farming were certainly 

 very crude. He could discuss the articles in ' Bell's Weekly Messenger ' (his reg- 

 ular companion), but could not handle a plough, nor teach a man how to make a 

 ridge. He had a large garden, and his ambition was to pick the first handful of 

 unripe Peas, or pigmy Kidney-beans, or marble-sized Potatoes. 1 was consequently 

 early initiated by my grandfather (who Avas living retired in a comfortable little 

 box near, and who rejoiced in the acknowledged position of the first amateur 

 gardener in the district) into the mysteries above alluded to ; and here as a boy 

 I spent my spare hours. I managed to save out of my pocket-money and presents 

 from three to four shillings a-week (a large sum for a boy, you will say) ; but I 

 worked hard for it, not for the love of the money, but from genuine interest in 

 the work : most of this I spent in flowers and periodicals. My mother was a 

 florist, and consequently tolerated my boyish extravagance. The nearest nursery- 

 man and bookseller might well have wished that all the neighbouring boys of my 

 age had been equally fond of gardening, and had been correspondingly well fur- 

 nished with funds. I had the finest collection of Fuchsias, Geraniums, Dahlias, 

 Carnations, and Auriculas in the^district. I grew the earliest vegetables, and gath- 

 ered the primest fruit. I must be a gardener — 1 was a natural-born one ; and I 

 was accordingly apprenticed in the gardens of a sister of the present Earl Eussell. 

 So here I am at length commencing a career full of hope — the pet pupil of the 

 clergyman's sister, the bosom friend of a neighbouring solicitor's son, the proteg6 

 of a noble lady, but, alas ! the pupil of one who little understood my openness of 

 character, and honesty of principle, and independent character. Jealousy sapped 

 the foundation of my hopes : he who should have been my instructor proved a 



