DECEMBER 127 



year later. My father took me to the college, and we 

 slept the night before the entrance examination at the 

 " Tumble-down Dick " inn at Farnborough, which was 

 then the nearest station. The examination was a farce, 

 of course. I suppose they ascertained that one could 

 read and write, and the doctor satisfied himself you 

 were not deformed, but I don't believe it went much 

 farther.' (Here the fragment ends.) 



December 5th. The weather is wonderfully mild. I 

 have a bunch of Tea-roses flowering in the room that 

 were picked out of doors yesterday. Have seasons 

 changed, or have the roses? I used to think Owen 

 Meredith's allusion to the rose of October so true : 



If Sorrow have taught me anything, 



She hath taught me to weep for you ; 

 And if Falsehood have left me a tear to shed 



For Truth, these tears are true. 



If the one star left by the morning 



Be dear to the dying night, 

 If the late lone rose of October 



Be sweetest to scent and sight, 



If the last of the leaves in December 



Be dear to the desolate tree, 

 Eemember, belov'd remember, 



How dear is your beauty to me ! 



December IQth. I have again been away. At last it is 

 quite winter, and everything is at rest outside. But if all 

 the outdoor Chrysanthemums, or even the hardiest in- 

 door ones, had been moved in October or November into 

 sheltered places under shrubs and trees, or against walls, 

 there has been up to now no frost to hurt them in such 

 situations. Some that I moved twice this autumn are 

 not feeling it at all. 



If Camellias are grown in pots they make far more 

 buds than they can possibly carry, and severe disbudding 

 is most useful. 



