60 RIVERSIDE LETTERS vin 



farmers in their complaints as to the fickle 

 character of our climate. 



I am not fond of grumbling at the weather, 

 as no doubt it is better ordered than if we 

 had the management of it, but one cannot get 

 over with equanimity the disasters that occur 

 every now and then through the sudden 

 changes of climate to which our islands are 

 peculiarly liable. Last Thursday everything 

 in my garden was in the most promising con- 

 dition ; we had had plenty of nice rain, the 

 temperature had gone up ; the irises and 

 poeonies were in full bloom, roses were in bud, 

 indeed my Marechal Niel was in more than 

 bud ; the columbines were well out and a host 

 of other perennials making a fine show. The 

 lilacs were nearly over, but the hawthorns 

 and laburnums shone out in glory against the 

 blue sky ; birds sang in every tree, the young 

 starlings in their nest in the sycamore tree 

 were screeching and squealing all day long, 

 and I walked in the evening to Shillingford 

 to hear the nightingales. Hut alas ! on Fri- 



