94 MY GARDEN 



a syllable what he would say if she went that way in a 

 robe fringed with ten degrees of frost. What was she 

 to do ? Either she must quarrel with me one of 

 her staunchest supporters or make an enemy of 

 Atkinson. Her evening was of course spoiled ; but 

 she did her duty at least I think so. The next 

 morning I looked "with an auspicious and a drop- 

 ping eye " at my fruit tree and Atkinson's despondent 

 'earlies.' He was storming about in a hot-house 

 using tropical language to his tropical flora and 

 when he saw me, he emerged, like an angry lion from 

 its lair, and asked me what I thought of our loath- 

 some climate now. I said the Spring was full of sur- 

 prises, as usual ; then winked down at my apricot tree. 

 Do not, however, suppose that I have any secret 

 understanding with Nature far from it. Nobody 

 has endured more from her in one quiet way and 

 another than have I. If she had arranged more 

 silver and gold in certain places under the earth, 

 before I was born, I should not be sitting here 

 writing this book now, and we should all have 

 escaped it ; if she had been of a different opinion 

 as to the proportion of uric acid that might possibly 

 be developed in my system, when the ingredients 

 were discussed and decided, I should have avoided 

 many troublesome experiences; and if she had 

 specially interested herself in my attempts to estab- 

 lish half-hardy bulbs, she would have smiled far 

 oftener upon my white rockery than is actually the 

 case. For my part I can stand her fiery or her 

 frosty moods; but what one dislikes is to see her 



