104 THE FLORIST. 
THE SIX OF SPADES. 
CHAPTER IV. 
I REMEMBER that, when we first formed our floral brotherhood, I 
introduced the name of Joseph Grundy with some anxiety, lest it should 
not be welcomed as I wished. I was afraid that his occasional 
wanderings from the garden in the direction of the stable-yard, the 
sudden transfer of his attentions from his Horseradish to his horse, and 
again from his cob to his Cobnuts, might disqualify him from becoming 
a member of our little guild of gardeners. ‘These noses, I reasoned, 
accustomed as they are to Orange-blossoms, will inevitably turn up at 
the mere notion of a groom with straw at his boots. But those noses 
did nothing of the kind. My nomination was received with hearty 
approval. ‘If he is not too much engaged,” said Mr. Oldacres with a 
quaint gravity, “in laying out the new grounds at Kensington, or in 
reviewing ‘Darwin on Species,’ let us have him by all means. 
Seriously, Iam glad to second this candidate. While we teach him 
something about gardening, we cannot fail to profit in turn from the 
presence among us of an industrious, an honest, a righteous man.” 
To these commendatory epithets, I would append the adjective cheery, 
as characteristic of one who is not only happy himself, but communi- 
cative of happiness to others. I never meet that Fourteen Stone of 
healthfulness, crowned with its rosy smiling face, as bright as a good 
conscience and brown soap can make it, without feeling a certain 
freshness at heart—a braver confidence in the hopes and joys of life— 
a more sure emancipation from its cares and sorrows. Like the “bit 
of blue,” which precedes the sunshine when the storm-clouds break, 
that face beams with fine weather. Here is a delightful barometer, 
which disdains the influence of atmosphere, moon, and wind, and boldly 
assures you in the middle of a hurricane, that everything is “set fair.” 
It is a face at which babies of the most reserved and haughty disposition 
immediately smile and coo; while the most timid children ‘walk under 
his huge legs and peep about, to find themselves dishonourable” lollipops. 
Coming quickly round a corner, upon a recent occasion, I suddenly 
confronted Mr. Grundy, engaged in the arduous evolutions of hopscotch, 
and his expression of bashful uncertainty whether he should resume his 
position as a rational biped, or go on with the game and win it, was a 
supreme treat, I can assure you. Finally, he got upon the line—I 
wonder with those boots of his that he was ever off of it—and resumed- 
his original standing in society, amid the derisive cheers of his small 
competitors. | 
You would scarcely imagine that this festive countenance could ever 
be regarded with a qualified pleasure, nay even with feelings of 
discomfort; but there are scenes and seasons wherein I have met it 
with much perturbation of spirit. I maintain that upon occasions of” 
national humiliation, upon Ash- Wednesday, and other days of penitence, 
Joseph Grundy ought to sit in the vestry. No member of our congre- 
gation 1s more in earnest than he; but his face utterly declines to 
