200 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES. 



readily (it was reported at the time that the Duke 

 of Clarence gave him a right royal order for lOOO 

 trees) at one guinea apiece. I like to imagine the 

 elder Rivers looking on a few years later, half 

 pleased and half perplexed, as Rivers the younger 

 budded his first batch of Briers, and the old fore- 

 man who had served three generations boldly pro- 

 tested: — "Master Tom, you'll ruin the place if 

 you keep on planting t^em rubbishy brambles in. 

 stead of standard apples !" I fancy the pleasant 

 smile on Master Tom's handsome face, knowing as 

 he did that instead of the Brier would come up 

 the Rose, that his ugly duckling would grow into 

 a noble swan, and that there were other trees be- 

 sides Golden Pippins which were productive of 

 golden fruit. Then I wonder what those other 

 heroes of the past, Wood of Maresfield, Paul of 

 Cheshunt, and Lane of Berkhampstead, would say 

 to their sons and grandsons, could they see the 

 development of the work which they began — the 

 Roses, not only grown by the acre instead of by 

 the hundred, but in shape, and in size, and in 

 color, beautiful beyond their hope and dream. I 

 picture to myself Adam Paul's delight at the " 72 

 cut Roses, distinct," which George, his grandson, 

 has just arranged for " the National ;" and the ad- 

 miration which would reproduce '* Brown's Suporb 



