230 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES. 



be sent from the nurseries with any shoots of 

 great length, or with taproots, shorten the former, 

 or secure them to a stake, and remove the latter 

 altogether. Affix your permanent tallies (I use 

 smooth slips of deal, smeared with white paint, 

 written upon with a black-lead pencil, and secured 

 with thin wire to the trees), because the labels of 

 the nurseryman, even when on parchment, become 

 illegible from rain and snow. 



** And next summer," exclaims the ardent 

 disciple, '* we shall have Roses as large as finger- 

 glasses ; we shall win the Cup ; we shall make the 

 Marquis's gardener, that bumptious Mr. Peacock 

 at the Castle, for ever to fold his tail." It troubles 

 me to repress this charming enthusiasm, to de- 

 molish a superstructure as gay, but, alas ! as base- 

 less, as those card-houses which the child builds, 

 with the kings, queens, and knaves of the pack, 

 upon the polished mahogany of his sire. No, my 

 dear amateur, not next summer, nor in any sum- 

 mer, with those Roses only which will grow upon 

 the trees just commended to you, are you to whip 

 creation, and make the family plate-chest groan. 

 If you tend them carefully, you may achieve 

 small victories, as encouragements to higher emu- 

 lations ; but if you would win cups and prizes 

 *' open to all England" (Anglid in certanie7i pro- 



