8o 



A BOOK ABOUT ROSES 



a mirage which I saw on the sandy desert ? There 

 were vegetables, fruit-bushes, and fruit-trees, all in 

 vigorous health ; there were flowers, and the flower- 

 queen in her beauty. 'Why, Will,' I exclaimed, 

 'what have you done to the gravel-bed?' 'Lor' 

 bless yer,' he replied, grinning, ' I hadn't been here 

 a fortnight afore I swopped it for a pond I' He had, 

 as a further explanation informed me, and after an 

 agreement with a neighbouring farmer, removed with 

 pick and barrow his sandy stratum to the depth of 

 three feet, wheeled it to the banks of an old pond, 

 or rather to the margin of a cavity where a pond 

 once was, but which had been gradually filled up 

 with leaves and silt ; and this rich productive mould 

 he had brought home a distance of 200 yards, 

 replacing it with the gravel, and levelling as per 

 contract. Some other neighbour had given him a 

 cart-load of clay, and the children had 'scratted 

 together a nicst bit o' muck, and he meant stirring 

 up them cottagers at next show with Roses, and 

 " kidneys " too.' 



It occurred to me, as I rode home reflecting, that 

 there was a striking similarity in this case, as in 

 many others, between the gardener and his ground ; 

 for Will had been at one time a drinking, poaching, 

 quarrelsome ' shack,' and was now a good husband, 

 a good father, and, I believe, a good Christian ; — 



