94 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES. 



'* Grim spirits in the air, 

 Who grin to see us mortals grieve, 

 And dance at our despair," 



fiendishly suggested to my mind an economical desire to 

 utilise the souvenir before me. I looked around and lis- 

 tened ; no sight, no sound, of humanity. I fetched the 

 largest fire-shovel I could find, and was carrying it bounti- 

 fully laden through an archway cut in a high hedge of yews, 

 and towards a favourite tree of " Charles Lefebvre," when I 

 suddenly confronted three ladies, who '* had sent round the 

 carriage, hearing that I should soon be at home, and were 

 admiring my beautiful Roses." It may be said, with the 

 strictest regard to veracity, that they saw nothing that day 

 which they admired, in the primary meaning of the word, 

 so much as myself and fire-shovel ; and I am equally sure 

 that no Rose in my garden had a redder complexion than 

 my own. 



And now, to be practical, what do I mean by farmyard 

 manure — when, and how, should it be used ? 



By farmyard manure I mean all the manures of the 

 strawyard, solid and fluid, horse, cow, pig, poultry, in con- 

 junction. Let a heap be made near the Rosarium, not 

 suppressing the fumes of a natural fermentation by an 



