AT A ROSE-SHOW. 283 



censors are still appointed at some of our country 

 shows. There is the man who loves them, knows 

 and grows them well — his judgments will be 

 right. There is the man who is a clever florist 

 and grows Roses partially — his judgments will be 

 generally right, but if the collections are large or 

 numerous, or nearly equal in merit, he will be 

 perplexed to incapacity. Thirdly, there is the man 

 appointed to be judge of the Roses because he 

 once won a prize for cucumbers, or because the 

 mayor knows his uncle. The latter is either, in 

 his wise silence, quite useless, or, in his fool's lo- 

 quacity, a dreadful bore — dangerous wherever he 

 has power. To the second I would say : 



" Cassio, I love thee, but never more be officer of mine," 



until you know more about Roses. To the first I 

 take off my hat, as to " a chief-justice among 

 chief-justices,"* and wish that he may ever pre- 

 side in court when I have a cause to plead. 



The arbiter at a Rose-show should be a 

 man who not only lives among Roses, but among 

 Roses in their most perfect phase. He should 

 know the capabilities of each separate variety, as 



* So Fuller designates our great Nottinghamshire judge, Mark- 

 ham. 



