160 A BOOK ABOUT THE GARDEN. 



there happens to be a nice Wellingtonia, pla'nted 

 when he was a baby, in the grounds of the place in 

 which he lives. Nay, not a few of our older gardeners 

 quietly ignore, or openly depreciate, important 

 branches of their art. ' We don't go in for fruit we 

 are not great here in kitchen stuff our soil is too 

 light for this, or too heavy for that,' they say. 



" Now it's all very well for a gardener to have a 

 specialty, to try for excellence and perfection in 

 some one department (and I would advise him to do 

 so where his range is limited), always stipulating that 

 nothing of consequence shall be neglected ; but never, 

 so long as 1 am in the flesh, and one black ball 

 excludes, shall that man be admitted into the ' Six of 

 Spades ' who contracts and confines his admiration 

 to some particular pursuit in horticulture, and sees 

 no charm beyond ; who, excelling in fruits, takes no 

 notice of flowers or succeeding in stove and green- 

 house plants, will hardly look at the outdoor garden, 

 the rosary, the fernery, the alpine or herbaceous 

 plants. The true gardener loves them all, and wherever 

 or whenever he finds either beauty or cultural skill, 

 there and then his heart is glad. But I fear that 

 there are many who declare themselves to be 

 passionately fond of a garden who only care for a little 

 bit of it ; and I have seen those who were ' never 

 tired of gazing on the darling flowers,' signally de- 

 feated in single combat with an honest, humbug-hating 

 yawn. I could tell you of a pretender who came from 

 one of the principal places in England to see another 

 yet more beautiful than his own, and when he found 

 that there were no orchids, he passed through the 



