CAUSES OF FAILURE. II 



Astolat, and a wailing cry over dead Adonis. " Is it not sad 

 that we cannot grow Roses ? We have spared no trouble, 

 no expense, and we do so dote on them !" 



The last time I heard a howl of this kind I felt myself 

 insulted as a lover of the Rose and of truth ; and instead of 

 yelping in concert, as I was expected to do, I snarled sur- 

 lily: "You have taken no trouble which deserves the name; 

 and as to expense, permit me to observe that your fifty 

 Rose-trees cost you £4, and your sealskin jacket i^20. 

 You don't deserve beautiful Roses, and you won't have any 

 until you love them more." If I am accused of discourtesy 

 to the fair sex (she was not very fair, my reader), I can 

 only plead that I have been far more explicit with the male 

 specimen of pseudo-Rosist. " I say, old fellow," remarked 

 to me a friend as we rode together in the Row, and with a 

 tone which, though it pretended a cheery indifference, was 

 fraught with rebuke and anger, " those Rose-trees which 

 you recommended me to get turned out a regular do. 

 Cost a hatful of money — precious near a tenner, if not all 

 out — and, by Jove, sir ! our curate at the county flower- 

 show came and licked them all into fits !" " Robert," I 

 responded (I was too indignant to address him with Bob, as 

 usual), " I never in my life recommended a person of your 



