"Why, zor, I be gardener now, too: yaaes I be, to save the wages.
And he's gone clean mazed about that garden--yaaes, I think. Would yue
believe this, Maaester Harry, that he killed every one o' the blessed
strawberries last year with a lot o' wrack from the bache, because he
said it wued be as good for them as for the 'sparagus?"
"Well, but the old chap finds amusement in pottering about the
garden--" said Master Harry.
"The old fule!" repeated Tobias, in an under tone.
"And the theory is sound about the seaweed and the strawberries;
just as his old notion of getting a green rose by pouring sulphate of
copper in at the roots."
"Yaaes, that were another pretty thing, Maaester Harry, and he had the
tin labels all printed out in French, and he waited and waited, and
there bain't a fairly guede rose left in the garden. And his violet
glass for the cucumbers: he burned en up to once, although 'twere fine
to hear'n talk about the sunlight and the rays and such nonsenses. He
be a strange mahn, zor, and a dahmned close'n with his penny-pieces,
Christian and all as he calls his-sen. There's Miss Juliott, zor,
she's go-in' to get married, I suppose; and when she goes no one 'll
dare spake to 'n. Be yue going to stop long this time, Maaester Harry?"
"Not at the Hollies, Tobias. I shall go down to the Queen's to-morrow:
I've got rooms there."
"So much the better--so much the better," said the frank but
inhospitable retainer; and presently the jogtrot old animal between
the shafts was pulled up in front of a certain square old-fashioned
building of gray stone which was prettily surrounded with trees.
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