THE SIX OF SPADES. 107 



We attended, it is true, with a prompt punctuality 

 the flower-shows in "Worcester" gardens, and no 

 one could gaze more earnestly than we did upon 

 those very delicate roses and tulips which require the 

 protection of a bonnet. We came away, moreover, 

 with quite a longing for heart's-ease, and were our- 

 selves most perfect examples of sensitive plants and 

 of love-lies-bleeding. But all this in figure, and that 

 figure a cipher. We never looked at the flowers, nor 

 thought of them ; and when I was asked by a floral 

 friend whether I had seen that lovely polly-anthus, I 

 urged him, to his grand amusement, to point out at 

 once the beauteous Mary, and, if possible, to intro- 

 duce me. I never met him afterwards but he had 

 something facetious, as he supposed, to say in 

 reference to my mistake : " Should I like to know 

 the fair Hannah-Gallis, the charming Carry-Opsis, the 

 fair Sal-piglossis, the celebrated Miss-Embryanthe- 

 mum, the two great heiresses Miss Mary-Gold and 

 Miss Annie-Money ? Had I seen anything latterly of 

 Johu-Quil, Bill-Bergia, or Stephen-Otis ; of our 

 Scotch friend, Mac-Eanthus, or our Irish friend, 

 Phil-0'Dendron ? " 



And so, sans ears, sans eyes, sans nose, I wandered 

 flowerless through a flowery world. Some, perhaps, 

 may tell me that it was better so; that boyhood 

 should find its recreations in active games, and youth 

 in the sports of the field ; and that floriculture is 

 incompatible with that hardy physical training which 

 hereafter is to make the man. But I designate this 

 doctrine humbug. Why should a boy be less brave 

 or strong if taught to appreciate the beautiful things 



