THE SIX OF SPADES. 79 



we seemed entirely forlorn and prostrate ; when sud- 

 denly my thoughts emerged from their gloominess, 

 like rail way- carriages from a tunnel into sunshine. 



" Are there any nursery-gardens in the neighbour- 

 hood?"! inquired of the waiter, just bringing us, 

 with the best intention, a copy of the Times, which 

 we had read two days ago. 



" Oh yes, sir," he responded, to my great refresh- 

 ment ; " Budd & Packe's, sir ; late Twig, sir. Any- 

 body will show you the way, sir." 



Away I sped, my companion following reluctantly, 

 for he was no horticulturist ; and having referred to 

 " anybody," in the person of an intelligent baker, we 

 soon reached the gardens ; and in five minutes I was 

 perfectly at home and happy in the congenial society 

 of Messrs. Budd & Packe. We sauntered through 

 the houses ; we peeped into the frames ; we wandered 

 among squares of ever-verdant trees, phalanxes of 

 flowering-shrubs, and regiments of the deciduous 

 order. We admired, we denounced, we compared. 

 "Had I seen so and so?" "Did they grow what 

 d'ye call it?" "Did I know thingembob?" I 

 seemed to have been there but ten minutes, when my 

 fellow-traveller, first attracting my attention with a 

 groan, w T hispered the information that he " was 

 slightly sick of those confounded sticks, and, if he 

 could find a tank or pool, he thought he should go 

 and drown himself." To which I murmured, " Au 

 reservoir"; and we parted. The hopeless Hottentot ! 

 " Those confounded sticks " were the cleanest, 

 strongest, straightest lot of briers I ever saw in my 

 life, tall standards, and breaking beautifully ; and 



