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FEBRUARY. 43 
I quite agree with a friend, that we are likely to have an early bloom, 
though I rather fancy he is earlier than I am, for he says—* All my 
collection is on the move ;” while, except Ashton’s Prince of Wales, 
which is proverbially early, I have none truss-bare as yet. I rather hope 
it may be, for I expect to have to leave mine early in April for a little; 
and though I shall probably miss much enjoyment in them, I hope to 
have an opportunity of seeing Dr. Plant’s collection, and shall not fail 
to let my fellow-growers have a full, true, and particular account 
thereof. I am sure he will gladly give me the means of go doing, as it 
will be true of me—not in any invidious sense— 
** A chiel’s amang ye takin’ notes, 
An’ faith—he’ll prent ’em.” 
Deal, Jan. 21. 
THE SIX OF SPADES. 
Cuap, II. 
WHEN young Mr. Chiswick, the gardener at the Hall, made his first 
appearance in our village, he was generally supposed to he an officer of 
cavalry on leave, or a foreigner of distinction on his travels. Great 
was the surprise accordingly, when, coming to church the Sunday after 
his arrival, he took his place with the domestics, and not with the 
Squire. Nevertheless, and though he fell in the social scale, he rose 
in the estimation of our villagers. Here was a handsome young fellow, 
with the neatest of moustaches and the trimmest of beards, mot come 
to marry Squire Granville’s daughter, and therefore no longer a fasci- 
nating impossibility to the more humble maidens around. Mademoiselle, 
Lady Constance’s maid, at the Castle, immediately traced in Mr. 
Chiswick’s lineaments a striking resemblance to the old French nodlesse ; 
the damsel who assisted at Lady Isabel’s toilette, was sure that he had 
been accustomed to the best society; Miss Granville’s attendant was 
forcibly reminded of Lord Byron's “delightful Corsair ;” and all our 
unmarried beauties expressed their true commiseration, ‘“ that such a 
pleasant young man should be buried alive in that lonely cottage, 
belonging to the gardens at the Hall.” 
There were dissentient voices, of course. Our young men spoke 
slightingly of ‘‘ Jews” and “ barbers’ blocks.” Mrs. Verjuice, the 
housekeeper at the Grange, declared his ‘‘ manners was igh, and his 
appearance’ airy.” And even the mild, kind-hearted Mr. Oldacres 
was reported to have murmured something about “a Pomological 
Puppy,” to have spoken disparagingly of Mr. Chiswick’s 4 foliage,” to 
wit, his moustaches and beard, and to have told the Duke’s huntsman, 
that “ he would find some excellent covert at the Hall, when he 
wanted a fox, next season.” I think that a little breeze of apprehensive 
jealousy stirred the tranquil waters of that grand old heart. Mr. 
Chiswick had won medals at the London Shows; there was to be a, 
