I never had a nicer. It was called _A Tour Round my Garden_, and some
of the little stories in it--like the Tulip Rebecca, and the
Discomfited Florists--were very amusing indeed; and some were sad and
pretty, like the Yellow Roses; and there were delicious bits, like the
Enriched Woodman and the Connoisseur Deceived; but there was no
"stuff" in it at all.
Some chapters were duller than others, and at last I got into a very
dull one, about the vine, and it had a good deal of Greek in it, and
we have not begun Greek.
But after the Greek, and the part about Bacchus and Anacreon (I did
not care about _them_; they were not in the least like the Discomfited
Florists, or the Enriched Woodman!) there came this, and I liked it
the best of all:--
"At the extremity of my garden the vine extends in long porticoes,
through the arcades of which may be seen trees of all sorts, and
foliage of all colours. There is an _azerolier_ (a small medlar) which
is covered in autumn with little apples, producing the richest effect.
I have given away several grafts of this; far from deriving pleasure
from the privation of others, I do my utmost to spread and render
common and vulgar all the trees and plants that I prefer; it is as if
I multiplied the pleasure and the chances of beholding them of all
who, like me, really love flowers for their splendour, their grace,
and their perfume.
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