Jnly K, 1807. 1 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



PAROCHIAL HARVEST FESTIVALS AND 

 HORTICULTURAL SHOWS. 



■ many 

 a tiling wo say, "All, if wo 

 had but known it before ! 

 What a pity wo illJ not think of it in time ! " 'I'lius, sup- 

 pose a large party is to be given : the ladies of the liouse 

 hold solemn coiiclave.s upon it, they talk about it, they give 

 hints to cacli other, they dream about it. they consult 

 paterfamilias so frequently — at least, not consult — they talk 

 at him about it if he has ventured an idea contrary to 

 theirs, until ho gets up and lidgets, and rubs his bald head 

 (all bald men do), and walks about the room whenever the 

 coming p;irty is mentioned, and perhaps vents a " Bother 

 it ! you have got me into this scrape, and you may get me 

 out of it. In my young d.iys a bit of lish and a bit of beef, 

 and tart, and custard, and cheese, did well enough : but 

 the world 's grown so grand now ! " And having said this, 

 the worthy man feels relieved, and yields to anything. 



Well, the party is over, and went off satisfactorily ; but 

 during the whole of the following weelc there arc darted 

 out at intervals such observations as these — " Oh, but if 

 we had but tliought of tha(, how charming tlio table would 

 have looked!" Or, "I have just now. dear, (linught of 

 the very thing we ought to have had to complete the sweet 

 course!" But this "after-wit" is of no nsc. Now tho 

 harvest is yet far from ripe, and the Apples, and Pears, 

 and Plums, and Grapes (happy those who have any !) are 

 yet wee, wee things ; so tliat when I write about harvest 

 festivals, as I now do, I am speaking in good time, and 

 before any arrangements liave been made, being careful 

 that my wit shall not be after-wit. 



Harvest festivals have become very gener.il in the last 

 few ycar.s in Wilts, and surely no festivals can be more 

 suitable : but what I wish to impress upon our clerical 

 readers, their wives, and their daugliters, is that itparocliuil 

 Iwrlicuhurnl shnw vtay be limtfficlallii cunliinal tcith a hir- 

 ycst fcxtinil. Let me describe one sucli festival and show 

 at which I was present and took part, and thus allow me 

 to recommend for adoption what has been tried and found 

 to sncoeed. 



There is a village not very far from me which is a very 

 pretty village, chiefly from its possessing what is now rare, 

 a village green ; and by a village green I mean a central 

 space round which the houses are dotted — not in rows 

 streetwise, but some houses standing fair and fronting the 

 green with pretty gardens, then some with gable ends to 

 the green, and then cottages slipping away oblicjucly ; and 

 these fashions repeated over and over again, until there re- 

 No. 330 -Vol, XIII., ' New Sembs. 



mains a sort of oblong bit of grass surrounded by houses 

 placed as if by chance, with notliing whatever formal 

 in their arrangement. Such is the green of the village to 

 which I refer. Then the green has the church lying in 

 one quiet corner, and the village school rather far off : this 

 is well, for I like not the noise of children's voices to be- 

 too near the giavevard. And then in nuother quiet spot i» 

 the parsonage, with a wall in front — a low wall : this, too, 

 is well, for I like not any lines of harsh separation in 

 villages, but that the inhabitants should look and feel to 

 be one family. Certainly this vill.igc green is perfection. 

 There the little childi-en tumble about in the sunshine : 

 there the big babies are carried by their staggering and 

 scarce bigger sisters ; there the noisy youngsters play their 

 juvenile games : and there the youthii and young men play 

 cricket, and old men on one stick or two totter on and sou 

 themselves, and old women stop, and talk, and talk away : 

 and there we sometimes sec little children, all importance, 

 walking across " to shop " for mother, or to post a letter 

 to uncle Thomas in New Zealand. A village to my mind 

 can never be perfect unless it has its green. I dislilic 

 villages whose formal street looks like the worst part of a. 

 town left there by mistake. 



Well, I was invited to the harvest festival and horticul- 

 tural show in the village which I have endeavoured to 

 describe. We assembled at the vicarage at two o'clock 

 Tlic vicar, good man, was not there — he was suijcrintending 

 in the schoolroom ; but of what he there superintended 

 more hereafter. Soon the church bell was heard, and we- 

 wended our way towards the building whence the sound 

 proceeded. And then mark the advantage of a village 

 green, and what a pleasant feature it is ! Yiui could eee 

 from all parts the people beginning to go forth from thetr 

 homes, locking their doors, shutting their garden gates,- 

 and a village crowd gradually gathering. The schooL 

 children were being marched in order ; the teachers fussy 

 and anxious, as all teachers are, lest the ranks should be 

 broken. We reached the churchyard gate — a rustic gate ; 

 and here let me pause and say a word about tliis God's- 

 acre, and God s house witliin it. 



The church was built but a few years ago — ten or a 

 dozen, and has no aisles — merely a nave, and chancel, and 

 vestry, \vith a bell-turret on its west end ; and yet it is 

 very pretty, and is becoming weather-stained, which takes 

 off the new look and tones down the colour. But the 

 feature T especially like is one in the churchyard, for 

 aronnd it is a broad border between the sunk fence and 

 the portion for interment. This is not only planted with 

 slirubs. but is also gay— no, I will rather say lively, witli 

 flowers, herbaceous flowers chiefly, but some annuals, and 

 even bedding plants. As I have passed by it year after 

 year there has always been colour from early spring to 

 late autumn Tliis is a very pretty feature, this encircling 

 border full of flower-hfe, and seems to my mind like a kind 

 living hand taking care of the deceased within. Bnt while 

 I am gating the beU is beginning to show signs of stopping, 

 and so I hurry on. I pass the wooden porch up which 

 flowers are carefully trained, and I enter the neat solemn 

 building. It is a mistake to think that a church must 



No. 9W.— Vol. XXXVIlI., Olb SEEraa. 



