See in the papers that school-children at Whissendine and elsewhere
are taught gardening. Excellent idea, this. Small Holdings for
Small Boys! Decide to try it at my "Select Academy for the Sons of
Gentlemen," as kitchen garden certainly _does_ want attending to, and
I can't afford a gardener. Tell the boys about it. They want to know
if the hour a day which I purpose to devote to Agriculture is to take
the place of _Bradley's Latin Exercises_. On hearing that it is, boys
seem relieved, and SMITH JUNIOR pronounces the scheme a "jolly lark."
I confess I am pleased to find this appreciation of my new arrangement
on the part of the most troublesome urchin in the school.
_Next Day._--All the boys are now provided with separate plots,
spades, rakes, and hoes. Youth, in fact, is at the Plough, and Myself
at the Helm, so we ought to get on all right. I purchase for them
some young cabbage-plants and cucumber-seeds, which will go down as
"extras" in the bills at the end of Term. Boys very active first day.
SMITH JUNIOR breaks his spade, and gets fifty lines. JONES astonishes
me by talking about "Three Acres and a Cow." Find that his father is
a strong Radical. Must be careful what I say to JONES. The general
opinion seems to be that Gardening is better than _Bradley's
Exercises_ "by long chalks." Encouraging.
_Week Later._--In order to gain my prize for best cabbages, boys have
been stimulating their growth with a guano made of chopped bones,
slate-pencil dust, and ink! Surprisingly fine specimens in young
DODGER'S allotment. Too good to be true. Go out to inspect, take up
one of his cabbages, and find it has no roots. DODGER admits that
he bought them from village greengrocer. I remark humorously to
boys--"This is DODGER'S _plot_!" Boys cheer me, and, being indignant
at DODGER'S cheating, make him--so I hear afterwards--"run the
gauntlet" in the dormitory the same evening. Hope it will do the
little sneak good. SMITH JUNIOR tries to do circus trick on garden
roller. Nearly killed. Two hundred lines, and a page of _Bradley's
Exercises_. Hear him saying that "he wishes OLD SWATS (that's me)
would do his gardening himself, and see how _he_ likes it!" No,
thanks.
_End of the Experiment._--Kitchen garden a wreck! There has been a
battle royal between FLASHBOYITES and SMITH JUNIORITES. FLASHBOY stole
all the spades, and entrenched himself in an earthwork, which the
other side stormed. SMITH JUNIOR bleeding but triumphant. Says
"gardening is much better far than _Bradley's Exercises_." Cucumbers
(bought as missiles) and potatoes lying all about. Several have got
through school-room windows! Letters arrive from parents. Thought
they would like the new agricultural departure as teaching their boys
something really useful. But they don't. Quite indignant. Say their
sons are "not intended for market-gardeners." SMITH JUNIOR'S parent
says _his_ boy is "meant for the Church." Didn't know this before.
SMITH JUNIOR will be an ornament of the Church Militant at any rate.
Drop the gardening, and go back to _Bradley_.
* * * * *
"THE USUAL CHANNEL."
To what snug refuge do I fly
When glass is low, and billows high,
And goodness knows what fate is nigh?--
My Cabin!
Who soothes me when in sickness' grip,
Brings a consolatary "nip,"
And earns my blessing, and his tip?--
The Steward!
When persons blessed with fancy rich
Declare "she" does not roll, or pitch,
What say--"The case is hardly sich"?--
My Senses!
What makes me long for _real_ Free Trade,
When no Douaniers could invade,
Nor keys, when wanted, be mislaid?--
My Luggage!
What force myself, perhaps another,
To think (such thoughts we try to smother)
"The donkey-engine is our brother"?--
Our Feelings!
And what, besides a wobbling funnel,
Screw-throb, oil-smell, unstable gunwale,
Converts me to a Channel Tunnel?--
My Crossing!
* * * * *