98 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



A bitter afternoon in May with a pelting hail- 

 shower, followed by four degrees of frost. Next 

 morning a row of black ruins which had been 

 plants. 



" Why didn't you cover them ? " the lady's 

 temper is not seraphic — it is myself — " Why ? 

 Cuthbert, are you mad ? " 



" Didn't I hurry out to take the pots off to let 

 the fine warrum rain into thim, an' it dhry 

 weather for so long." 



The warm rain — large hail-stones. 



" Hail ! Hail ! To leave them out in that." 



"I'd say it was rain, ma'am, with a gran* sun 

 behind it that med it shine. Sure, that little 

 blackenin' 'd only strengthen them." 



A fresh outburst of wrath. 



" An' wasn't ye playin' tennis abroad the same 

 as if it was summer. How could I think it would 

 freeze an' ye playin' ? " 



Give it up. It's the only thing. But we have 

 to wait until next year for these plants again. 



Another morning and the fan-Ughts left off 

 tender seedUngs. 



Hurried comment from the underling who has 

 not been gardening long. 



'' The lights " — they did not see me — " that's 

 what will make them hardy," in the tones of one 

 who knows. Then a change of voice— he has seen 

 nie. " Here is the missus. Make as if ye we^e 

 pullin' them off, not tP be yexin' hef,'' 



