190 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES. 



berries — making with the Yorkshire rustic our 

 tender confession : "I loikes poi, Mary; but, oh 

 Mary, I loikes you better nor poi !" — we, meeting 

 in mixed company, reserved for our beloved the 

 final fond farewell — or meeting, not in mixed 

 company, found tJiat the sweetest which was, alas ! 

 the parting kiss ; even so have I reserved for my 

 conclusive chapters the Roses which I love the 

 best — those Roses which are chosen for their 

 more perfect beauty, like the fairest maidens at 

 some public y?/^, to represent the sisterhood before 

 a wondering world. 



CHAPTER XII. 



CONCERNING ROSE-SHOWS. 



When that delightful young officer of her 

 Majesty's Guards, having paid a guinea, no long 

 time ago in London, to the great spiritualist, 

 medium, or whatever the arch-humbug called him- 

 self, of the season, inquired, with a solemn coun- 

 tenance, whether he could receive communications 

 from his mother, and, being assured that this could 

 be arranged, commenced a long conversation with 

 his parent, who preferred, after the manner of 

 spirits, to express her sentiments by tapping — and 



