XXX11 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 
“In 18388 ploughing matches were introduced, and applauded by 
the labourers ; it might have been supposed by the farmers too; 
but with characteristic obstructiveness they for many years con- 
tinued to throw in the apple of discord, and rendered fair play im- 
possible. Upon this Professor Henslow took higher grounds, and 
rescence, are as familiar to them as household words. They are engrafted on the 
memory by their continual practical illustration. The spelling-book gives them 
names equally hard and important, such as ple-ni-po-ten-ti-a-ry and ag-grand- 
ize-ment, but as these things are unfamiliar and have no practical illustration 
among them, they are forgotten almost as soon as learned. Of Wild Flowers, 
a prize of 1s. and four of 6d. are offered for the five best nosegays, not exceeding 
18 inches by 12, prepared by children between eight and fourteen years of age ; 
and a prize of 1s. and two of 6d. for similar nosegays from children under eight 
years of age; and three prizes of 2s. 6d., 2s. and 1s. 6d. are offered respectively 
to the children of the parish school who shall answer best some questions about 
the local wild flowers. There is, however, an important N.B. in the corner of 
the prospectus. The children who compete for botanical honours must have 
received a ticket for regularity of attendance at either Day or Sunday School. 
“The day approaches, and great are the preparations at the Rectory. On the 
broad green lawn, skirted with lofty elm trees,—God’s house in the distance,— 
are being erected tents and booths, round-abouts and see-saws. The ladies, ever 
forward in works of charity and kindly encouragement, are preparing all sorts 
of embellishments—flags of divers patterns, not intended to brave the battle, 
but only the breeze, and rosettes of economical pseudo-satin, pinked to perfec- 
tion, to dignify the stewards ; and it is whispered that the servants are preparing 
a surprise. All that is to be seen in the kitchen at present are the little bags 
of Congou, milk, and sugar, in solution, brewing in a mash-tub ; and mountains 
of good brown cake sufficient for a feast of ogres. The day arrives, and the 
village botanists are sauntering up the long walk with the produce of their 
rambles. Presently they are buzzing under a group of horse-chestnut trees, 
making up their nosegays—eighteen inches by twelve—and anon they show 
them in the exhibition booth, in the quaintest possible starids—from a ginger- 
beer bottle to a cocked-hat Damon of the time of Watteau, with his arms 
akimbo, looking as proud of his load as a Linnean herbalist. Opposite to them are 
arranged the fuchsias, geraniums, roses, pinks, stocks, pansies, annuals and per- 
ennials, nosegays and device nosegays, and at the end the rustics are peeping with 
astonishmentinto a polyoramaand a stereoscope. On the opposite side of the green 
is a tent devoted to general curiosities. Eggs of alligator, and eggs of ostrich, eggs 
of humming-birds, and eggs of some other wonderful birds incubating lilliputian 
cottages in yolk of shells and moss, casts of Echini in their flinty matrices and 
Echini in chalk, vegetable ivory, from the nut to its process.of turning into pin- 
cushions and umbrella handles, ammonites and nautili, bright enamelled shells 
of all kinds, butterflies and scorpions, grasses and sedges, lace bark and choco- 
late in the pod; but it is beyond our memory to enumerate the specimens of 
this instructive museum, all set out and stored away again in one day by the 
busy Professor in his St. Albans hat of plaited straw. The company has arrived, 
and probably eight hundred or more, some in fustian and coarse print, some in 
surtout and gros-de-naples, are assembled on the lawn, the carriage gentry 
