My father was very fond of his flowers, and greatly
pleased to find me useful.
Some of the happiest hours I ever spent were those in which I worked
with him in "the big garden;" Rubens lying in the sun, keeping
imaginary guard over my father's coat. We had a friendly rivalry with
the Rectory, in which I felt the highest interest. Sometimes, however,
I helped Mr. Andrewes himself, when he rewarded me with plants and
good advice. The latter often in quaint rhymes, such as
"This rule in gardening never forget,
To sow dry, and to set wet."
But after a time, and to my deep regret, Mr. Andrewes gave up the care
of my education. He said his duties in the parish did not allow of his
giving much time to me; and though my father had no special wish to
press my studies, and was more anxious for the benefit of the
Rector's influence, Mr. Andrewes at last persuaded him that he ought
to get a resident tutor and prepare me for a public school.
By this time I had almost forgotten my foolish prejudice against the
imaginary Mr. Gray, and was only sorry that I could no longer do
lessons with the Rector.
I suppose it was in answer to some inquiries that he made that my
father heard of a gentleman who wanted such a situation as ours.
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