104 A BOOK ABOUT THE OABDEN. 



And now must I confess, with a blush upon my 

 cheek as deeply crimson as Senateur Vaisse, well 

 described in the rose catalogues as " intensely glowing 

 scarlet," that for some fifteen years of my existence I 

 walked "this goodly frame, the earth," with about as 

 lively an appreciation of the beauties of a garden as 

 may be supposed to be experienced by a collared eel. 

 Abruptly and completely, like a coquette deserting a 

 baronet for a peer, I transferred my affections from 

 Flora to Pomona, and became miserably oblivious of 

 all flowers pleasant to the eye, in my absorbing 

 greediness of all fruits, which I erroneously supposed 

 to be good for food. 



I have not, my dear brother Spades, I assure you, 

 one unkindly thought against apples ; I have not a 

 detrimental remark to make against gooseberries, 

 however green. Childhood, I know, will distend its 

 little self, boyhood will fill its large pockets, and 

 youth must have its fling (at the pear-tree), whatever 

 age may preach. For myself, so far from sermonising, 

 I thoroughly admire that magnificent digestion which 

 is no longer mine ; I fondly desiderate that glorious 

 palate for which no magnum bonum was too unripe ; 

 and I mournfully envy those noble grinders which 

 drew the cobnut from his shell, and were not afraid 

 to grapple even with the apricot's iron stone. 



But while I speak approvingly of this early fondness 

 for fruit, and say of it, as Sam Weller said of kissing 

 the pretty housemaid, that " it's natur, ain't it ? " I 

 see no reason why a fondness of flowers should not be 

 developed contemporaneously, or why in childhood and 

 boyhood, and in many cases throughout manhood too, 



