THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN’S COMPANION, April 7, 1857. 
In the course of a twelvemonth events occurred which 
induced William’s mistress to change her residence, to 
reduce her establishment, and occupy a smaller house. 
She gave some of her servants the offer of remaining with 
her, among whom she did not include William, because so 
clever a gardener was not exactly what she should now 
require; but William begged hard to follow her. He 
Avould take care of her cows and poultry, make himself 
generally useful, and do everything he could to make up 
for higher wages than another class of workman. Mrs. 
Grant was pleased with his wish to accompany her. She 
had always a high opinion of him, and consented to his 
wish. William packed up all the pet plants, seedling Apple 
trees, and little floral treasures of the garden and green¬ 
house, brought them carefully to their new home, and 
watched over them tenderly. Mrs. Gran felt quite confi¬ 
dent of William’s capability and trustiness, and feared no evil. 
It so happened that both the cows were out of milk 
together, and William daily fetched a supply from a 
neighbouring farm. Mrs. Grant complained of the poor, 
thin milk; but it was winter, and possibly this might 
account for it. Mrs. Grant accidentally mentioned this 
to a friend, who assured her that the milk from that farm 
was excellent; she herself used it, and it was rich and 
! good. This was very strange. William was desired to 
i speak about the matter, and to beg that the best milk might 
be sent. From that day the best milk came. 
The hens now began to lay, and cackled cheerily; but 
Mrs. Grant wondered why so few eggs were brought into 
the house. The coachman looked “ unutterable things,” 
and begged his mistress to get a padlock for the hen-house, 
and lock it up. She did so, and found double the number 
of eggs that daily came into the house. This awoke strong 
J and alarming suspicions. Could it be ? Could, William be a 
thief? Matters rapidly came to a crisis. The coachman 
spoke out; the maid servants spoke out. They openly 
accused William, and said they could not stand silently by 
to see their mistress robbed. He was unfaithful to the 
trust she had reposed in him! 
Mrs. Grant was really deeply distressed. She had 
thought so well of William and his wife, who must have 
been the receiver of stolen goods, that her very heart ached 
at their treachery. This accounted for the poor, thin milk, 
watered, of course, at his own cottage on his way back, 
and for the disappearance of potatoes and wood, which had 
frequently and strangely taken place. 
The coachman told his mistress that William had often 
been seen taking vegetables home from their former garden; 
but he could not have believed he would rob in this manner. 
“ Why did you not tell your master when such things were 
seen ? ” asked Mrs. Grant. 
“ Well, ma’am, I know what gardeners are,” replied the 
coachman mysteriously; “ I know taking fruit and vegetables 
is done among them. They think it a kind of perquisite, 
and it is understood and done everywhere. Then master 
was alive, and he could look and protect himself; but I 
can’t stand by and see a woman deceived and robbed,” 
added the coachman, with a flash of manly regard for the 
weaker sex that did him honour; “ I have told William so 
to his face, and I never will see it done by him or anybody 
else.” . J 
Mrs. Grant performed a painful task; she charged the 
robberies home to William. He confessed them with some 
hesitation and shame, and promised, if forgiven, to steal no 
more ; but Mrs. Grant was firm, and, what is more, faithful. 
She spoke of his soul, and not of the body; of eternal 
consequences, and not worldly ones. She laid before him 
the sin , and implored him to seek the pardon of an offended 
God, and not an injured mistress only. She pointed out the 
nature of tbe offence, and the only “way” to pardon and 
peace. 0 that all masters and mistresses would do likewise! 
If it is an “ understood thing ” that gardeners take perquisites 
without permission, there is an item that wants revising in 
their craft. See to what it leads! the drop that oozes 
through a chink swells to a torrent. There is no little sin, 
no little , theft, no trifling evil, that shall go “so far and no 
farther.” There is no secret sin either. One Eye looks down 
on every deed, and brings it to the light. One Foot unseen 
tracks and tiaces with unerring skill every devious way. 
And for what a worthless gain the immortal soul is perilled! 
Two or three eggs! A little drop of milk! A basketful 
of cabbages and plums! 0 readers! pause one moment 
and reflect: “ What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole 
world and lose his own soul?” . 
• William and Iris wife returned crest-fallen to their own 
friends, and talk of going to Australia. But they cannot 
flee from God’s wrath, nor escape detection in the new 
country any more than in the old. Readers, “ a good name ! 
is more to be desired than great riches.” Let all classes ; 
lay this to heart, and let them not, for a mess of pottage, j 
sell their birthright. The day cometh that shall “ burn as 
an oven.” Let us not destroy our own souls. 
PHOTOGRAPHY FOR GARDENERS. 
TREES, PLANTS, &c. 
{Continued from page 448, Vol. XVII.) 
Our friends who followed the former instructions have, 
no doubt, by this time a good collection of photographs. 
An oversight in the last paper needs correction. In the 
blue process the mucilage of gum arabic should be added in 
the proportion of ten drops to the ounce of fe rro-prussiate 
potash solution. 
In the photography of trees and plants a Photographic 
Camera is necessary. The price of these at the opticians’ 
shops ranges from J£l 10s. to -.£50, according to the amount | 
of labour that has been expended on the lens with which j 
it is mounted. 
It will be our object to describe an arrangement quite as 
available as a more expensive instrument, and which can 
be manufactured by any of our readers possessing a tolerable 
amount of ingenuity for a sum not exceeding five shillings. 
The accompanying drawing will best explain its con¬ 
struction. 
B- —A strong and light-tight box, eight inches by six 
inches, by six inches deep, forms the body of the 
camera. The whole of the inside must be painted a 
dead black. 
H. —A circular hole to admit 
T.— The lens tubes. 
F. —The prepared paper frame, which fixes into a rabbeted 
opening at the end of the camera opposite 
L. —The lens. 
G. —A ground glass for focussing. This is hinged by a 
piece of leather to the top of the camera, and when 
not in use is drawn up into the upper part by 
S. —A string passing through a hole in the top, and loop¬ 
ing on to a hook at the side of the paper frame. The 
hole {h) must be surrounded with a piece of green 
baize, to prevent any rays of light from entering the box. 
