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  The able-bodied men of the village were at work, the children were atschool singing the multiplication-table lullaby, while the wives andmothers at home nursed the baby with one hand and did the housework withthe other. At the end of the village an old man past work sat at a roughdeal table under the creaking signboard of the Cauliflower, gratefullydrinking from a mug of ale supplied by a chance traveller who satopposite him.

  The shade of the elms was pleasant and the ale good. The travellerfilled his pipe and, glancing at the dusty hedges and the white roadbaking in the sun, called for the mugs to be refilled, and pushed hispouch towards his companion. After which he paid a compliment to theappearance of the village.

  "It ain't what it was when I was a boy," quavered the old man, fillinghis pipe with trembling fingers. "I mind when the grindstone was stuckjust outside the winder o' the forge instead o' being one side as it nowis; and as for the shop winder--it's twice the size it was when I was ayoung 'un."

  He lit his pipe with the scientific accuracy of a smoker of sixty years'standing, and shook his head solemnly as he regarded his alteredbirthplace. Then his colour heightened and his dim eye flashed.

  "It's the people about 'ere 'as changed more than the place 'as," hesaid, with sudden fierceness; "there's a set o' men about here nowadaysas are no good to anybody; reg'lar raskels. And if you've the mind tolisten I can tell you of one or two as couldn't be beat in Londonitself.

  "There's Tom Adams for one. He went and started wot 'e called aBenevolent Club. Threepence a week each we paid agin sickness oraccident, and Tom was secretary. Three weeks arter the club was startedhe caught a chill and was laid up for a month. He got back to work aweek, and then 'e sprained something in 'is leg; and arter that was well'is inside went wrong. We didn't think much of it at first, notunderstanding figures; but at the end o' six months the club hadn't gota farthing, and they was in Tom's debt one pound seventeen-and-six.

  "He isn't the only one o' that sort in the place, either. There wasHerbert Richardson. He went to town, and came back with the idea of aGoose Club for Christmas. We paid twopence a week into that for prettynear ten months, and then Herbert went back to town agin, and all we'ear of 'im, through his sister, is that he's still there and doingwell, and don't know when he'll be back.

  "But the artfullest and worst man in this place--and that's saying agood deal, mind you--is Bob Pretty. Deep is no word for 'im. There's noway of being up to 'im. It's through 'im that we lost our Flower Show;and, if you'd like to 'ear the rights o' that, I don't suppose there'sanybody in this place as knows as much about it as I do--barring Bobhisself that is, but 'e wouldn't tell it to you as plain as I can.

  "We'd only 'ad the Flower Show one year, and little anybody thought thatthe next one was to be the last. The first year you might smell theplace a mile off in the summer, and on the day of the show people camefrom a long way round, and brought money to spend at the Cauliflower andother places.

  "It was started just after we got our new parson, and Mrs. Pawlett, theparson's wife, 'is name being Pawlett, thought as she'd encourage men tolove their 'omes and be better 'usbands by giving a prize every year forthe best cottage garden. Three pounds was the prize, and a metal tea-potwith writing on it.

  "As I said, we only 'ad it two years. The fust year the garden as got itwas a picter, and Bill Chambers, 'im as won the prize, used to say as 'ewas out o' pocket by it, taking 'is time and the money 'e spent onflowers. Not as we believed that, you understand, 'specially as Bill did'is very best to get it the next year, too. 'E didn't get it, and thoughp'r'aps most of us was glad 'e didn't, we was all very surprised at theway it turned out in the end.

  "The Flower Show was to be 'eld on the 5th o' July, just as a'mosteverything about here was at its best. On the 15th of June BillChambers's garden seemed to be leading, but Peter Smith and Joe Gubbinsand Sam Jones and Henery Walker was almost as good, and it wasunderstood that more than one of 'em had got a surprise which they'dproduce at the last moment, too late for the others to copy. We used tosit up here of an evening at this Cauliflower public-house and put moneyon it. I put mine on Henery Walker, and the time I spent in 'is garden'elping 'im is a sin and a shame to think of.

  "Of course some of 'em used to make fun of it, and Bob Pretty was theworst of 'em all. He was always a lazy, good-for-nothing man, and 'isgarden was a disgrace. He'd chuck down any rubbish in it: old bones, oldtins, bits of an old bucket, anything to make it untidy. He used to larfat 'em awful about their gardens and about being took up by the parson'swife. Nobody ever see 'im do any work, real 'ard work, but the smellfrom 'is place at dinner-time was always nice, and I believe that heknew more about game than the parson hisself did.

  "It was the day arter this one I'm speaking about, the 16th o' June,that the trouble all began, and it came about in a very eggstrordinaryway. George English, a quiet man getting into years, who used when 'ewas younger to foller the sea, and whose only misfortin was that 'e wasa brother-in-law o' Bob Pretty's, his sister marrying Bob while 'e wasat sea and knowing nothing about it, 'ad a letter come from a mate ofhis who 'ad gone to Australia to live. He'd 'ad letters from Australiabefore, as we all knew from Miss Wicks at the post-office, but this oneupset him altogether. He didn't seem like to know what to do about it.

  "While he was wondering Bill Chambers passed. He always did passGeorge's 'ouse about that time in the evening, it being on 'is way 'ome,and he saw George standing at 'is gate with a letter in 'is 'and lookingvery puzzled.

  "'Evenin', George,' ses Bill.

  "'Evenin',' ses George.

  "'Not bad news, I 'ope?' ses Bill, noticing 'is manner, and thinking itwas strange.

  "'No,' ses George. 'I've just 'ad a very eggstrordinary letter fromAustralia,' he ses, 'that's all.'

  "Bill Chambers was always a very inquisitive sort o' man, and he stayedand talked to George until George, arter fust making him swear oathsthat 'e wouldn't tell a soul, took 'im inside and showed 'im the letter.

  "It was more like a story-book than a letter. George's mate, John Biggsby name, wrote to say that an uncle of his who had just died, on 'isdeathbed told him that thirty years ago he 'ad been in this veryvillage, staying at this 'ere very Cauliflower, whose beer we'redrinking now. In the night, when everybody was asleep, he got up andwent quiet-like and buried a bag of five hundred and seventeensovereigns and one half-sovereign in one of the cottage gardens till 'ecould come for it agin. He didn't say 'ow he come by the money, and,when Bill spoke about that, George English said that, knowing the man,he was afraid 'e 'adn't come by it honest, but anyway his friend JohnBiggs wanted it, and, wot was more, 'ad asked 'im in the letter to getit for 'im.

  "'And wot I'm to do about it, Bill,' he ses, I don't know. All thedirections he gives is, that 'e thinks it was the tenth cottage on theright-'and side of the road, coming down from the Cauliflower. He thinksit's the tenth, but 'e's not quite sure. Do you think I'd better make itknown and offer a reward of ten shillings, say, to any one who findsit?'

  "'No,' ses Bill, shaking 'is 'ead. 'I should hold on a bit if I was you,and think it over. I shouldn't tell another single soul, if I was you.'

  "'I be'leeve you're right,' ses George. 'John Biggs would never forgiveme if I lost that money for 'im. You'll remember about keeping itsecret, Bill?'

  "Bill swore he wouldn't tell a soul, and 'e went off 'ome and 'ad hissupper, and then 'e walked up the road to the Cauliflower and back, andthen up and back again, thinking over what George 'ad been telling 'im,and noticing, what 'e 'd never taken the trouble to notice before, that'is very house was the tenth one from the Cauliflower.

  "Mrs. Chambers woke up at two o'clock next morning and told Bill to getup further, and then found 'e wasn't there. She was rather surprised atfirst, but she didn't think much of it, and thought, what happened to betrue, that 'e was busy in the garden, it being a light night. She turnedover and went to sleep again, and at five when she woke up she coulddistinctly 'ear Bill working 'is 'ardest. Then she went to the winderand nearly d
ropped as she saw Bill in his shirt and trousers diggingaway like mad. A quarter of the garden was all dug up, and she shovedopen the winder and screamed out to know what 'e was doing.

  "Bill stood up straight and wiped 'is face with his shirt-sleeve andstarted digging again, and then his wife just put something on andrushed downstairs as fast as she could go.

  "'What on earth are you a-doing of, Bill?' she screams.

  "'Go indoors,' ses Bill, still digging.

  "'Have you gone mad?' she ses, half-crying.

  "Bill just stopped to throw a lump of mould at her, and then went ondigging till Henery Walker, who also thought 'e 'ad gone mad, and didn'twant to stop 'im too soon, put 'is 'ead over the 'edge and asked 'im thesame thing.

  "'Ask no questions and you'll 'ear no lies, and keep your ugly face yourown side of the 'edge,' ses Bill. 'Take it indoors and frighten thechildren with,' he ses. 'I don't want it staring at me.'

  "Henery walked off offended, and Bill went on with his digging. Hewouldn't go to work, and 'e 'ad his breakfast in the garden, and hiswife spent all the morning in the front answering the neighbours'questions and begging of 'em to go in and say something to Bill. One of'em did go, and came back a'most directly and stood there for hourstelling diff'rent people wot Bill 'ad said to 'er, and asking whether 'ecouldn't be locked up for it.

  "By tea-time Bill was dead-beat, and that stiff he could 'ardly raise'is bread and butter to his mouth. Several o' the chaps looked in in theevening, but all they could get out of 'im was, that it was a new way o'cultivating 'is garden 'e 'ad just 'eard of, and that those who livedthe longest would see the most. By night-time 'e'd nearly finished thejob, and 'is garden was just ruined.

  "Afore people 'ad done talking about Bill, I'm blest if Peter Smithdidn't go and cultivate 'is garden in exactly the same way. The parsonand 'is wife was away on their 'oliday, and nobody could say a word. Thecurate who 'ad come over to take 'is place for a time, and who took thenames of people for the Flower Show, did point out to 'im that he wasspoiling 'is chances, but Peter was so rude to 'im that he didn't staylong enough to say much.

  "When Joe Gubbins started digging up 'is garden people began to thinkthey were all bewitched, and I went round to see Henery Walker to tell'im wot a fine chance 'e'd got, and to remind 'im that I'd put anotherninepence on 'im the night before. All 'e said was, 'More fool you,' andwent on digging a 'ole in his garden big enough to put a 'ouse in.

  "In a fortnight's time there wasn't a garden worth looking at in theplace, and it was quite clear there'd be no Flower Show that year, andof all the silly, bad-tempered men in the place them as 'ad dug up theirpretty gardens was the wust.

  "It was just a few days before the day fixed for the Flower Show, and Iwas walking up the road when I see Joe and Henery Walker and one or twomore leaning over Bob Pretty's fence and talking to 'im. I stopped, too,to see what they were looking at, and found they was watching Bob's twoboys a-weeding of 'is garden. It was a disgraceful, untidy sort ofplace, as I said before, with a few marigolds and nasturtiums, andsich-like put in anywhere, and Bob was walking up and down smoking of'is pipe and watching 'is wife hoe atween the plants and cut off deadmarigold blooms.

  "'That's a pretty garden you've got there, Bob,' ses Joe, grinning.

  "I've seen wuss,' ses Bob.

  "'Going in for the Flower Show, Bob?' ses Henery, with a wink at us.

  "'O' course I am,' ses Bob 'olding 'is' ead up; 'my marigolds ought topull me through,' he ses.

  "Henery wouldn't believe it at first, but when he saw Bob show 'ismissus 'ow to pat the path down with the back o' the spade and hold thenails for 'er while she nailed a climbing nasturtium to the fence, hewent off and fetched Bill Chambers and one or two others, and they allleaned over the fence breathing their 'ardest and a-saying of all thenasty things to Bob they could think of.

  "'It's the best-kep' garden in the place,' ses Bob. 'I ain't afraid o'your new way o' cultivating flowers, Bill Chambers. Old-fashioned wayssuit me best; I learnt 'ow to grow flowers from my father.'

  "'You ain't 'ad the cheek to give your name in, Bob?' ses Sam Jones,staring.

  "Bob didn't answer 'im. Tick those bits o' grass out o' the path, oldgal,' he ses to 'is wife; 'they look untidy, and untidiness I can'tabear.'

  "He walked up and down smoking 'is pipe and pretending not to noticeHenery Walker, wot 'ad moved farther along the fence, and was staring atsome drabble-tailed-looking geraniums as if 'e'd seen 'em afore butwasn't quite sure where.

  "'Admiring my geraniums, Henery?' ses Bob at last.

  "'Where'd you get 'em?' ses Henery, 'ardly able to speak.

  "'My florist's,' ses Bob, in a off-hand manner.

  "'Your wot? asks Henery.

  "'My florist,' ses Bob.

  "'And who might 'e be when 'e's at home?' asked Henery.

  "''Tain't so likely I'm going to tell you that,' ses Bob. 'Bereasonable, Henery, and ask yourself whether it's likely I should tellyou 'is name. Why, I've never seen sich fine geraniums afore. I've beennursing 'em inside all the summer, and just planted 'em out.'

  "'About two days arter I threw mine over my back fence,' ses HeneryWalker, speaking very slowly.

  "'Ho,' ses Bob, surprised. 'I didn't know you 'ad any geraniums, Henery.I thought you was digging for gravel this year.'

  "Henery didn't answer 'im. Not because 'e didn't want to, mind you, butbecause he couldn't.

  "'That one,' ses Bob, pointing at a broken geranium with the stem of 'ispipe, 'is a "Dook o' Wellington," and that white one there is wot I'mgoing to call "Pretty's Pride." That fine marigold over there, wot lookslike a sunflower, is called "Golden Dreams."'

  "'Come along, Henery,' ses Bill Chambers, bursting, 'come and getsomething to take the taste out of your mouth.'

  "'I'm sorry I can't offer you a flower for your button-'ole,' ses Bob,perlitely, 'but it's getting so near the Flower Show now I can't affordit. If you chaps only knew wot pleasure was to be 'ad sitting among yourinnercent flowers, you wouldn't want to go to the public-house sooften.'

  "He shook 'is 'ead at 'em, and telling his wife to give the 'Dook o'Wellington' a mug of water, sat down in the chair agin and wiped thesweat off 'is brow.

  "Bill Chambers did a bit o' thinking as they walked up the road, and byand by 'e turns to Joe Gubbins and 'e ses:

  "'Seen anything o' George English lately, Joe?'

  "'Yes,' ses Joe.

  "'Seems to me we all 'ave,' ses Sam Jones.

  "None of 'em liked to say wot was in their minds, 'aving all seen GeorgeEnglish and swore pretty strong not to tell his secret, and none of 'emliking to own up that they'd been digging up their gardens to get moneyas 'e'd told 'em about. But presently Bill Chambers ses:

  "'Without telling no secrets or breaking no promises, Joe, supposing acertain 'ouse was mentioned in a certain letter from forrin parts, wot'ouse was it?'

  "'Supposing it was so,' ses Joe, careful too; 'the second 'ouse countingfrom the Cauliflower.'

  "'The ninth 'ouse, you mean,' ses Henery Walker, sharply.

  "'Second 'ouse in Mill Lane, you mean,' ses Sam Jones, wot lived there.

  "Then they all see 'ow they'd been done, and that they wasn't, in amanner o' speaking, referring to the same letter. They came up and sat'ere where we're sitting now, all dazed-like. It wasn't only the chanceo' losing the prize that upset 'em, but they'd wasted their time andruined their gardens and got called mad by the other folks. HeneryWalker's state o' mind was dreadful for to see, and he kep' thinking of'orrible things to say to George English, and then being afraid theywasn't strong enough.

  "While they was talking who should come along but George Englishhisself! He came right up to the table, and they all sat back on thebench and stared at 'im fierce, and Henery Walker crinkled 'is nose athim.

  "'Evening,' he ses, but none of 'em answered im; they all looked atHenery to see wot 'e was going to say.

  "'Wot's up?' ses George, in surprise.

  "'Gardens,' ses Henery.

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p; "'So I've 'eard,' ses George.

  "He shook 'is 'ead and looked at them sorrowful and severe at the sametime.

  "'So I 'eard, and I couldn't believe my ears till I went and looked formyself,' he ses, 'and wot I want to say is this: you know wot I'mreferring to. If any man 'as found wot don't belong to him 'e knows whoto give it to. It ain't wot I should 'ave expected of men wot's lived inthe same place as me for years. Talk about honesty,' 'e ses, shaking 'is'ead agin, 'I should like to see a little of it.'

  "Peter Smith opened his mouth to speak, and 'ardly knowing wot 'e wasdoing took a pull at 'is beer at the same time, and if Sam Jones 'adn'tbeen by to thump 'im on the back I b'lieve he'd ha' died there and then.

  "'Mark my words,' ses George English, speaking very slow and solemn,'there'll be no blessing on it. Whoever's made 'is fortune by getting upand digging 'is garden over won't get no real benefit from it. He maywear a black coat and new trousers on Sunday, but 'e won't be 'appy.I'll go and get my little taste o' beer somewhere else,' 'e ses. 'Ican't breathe here.'

  "He walked off before any one could say a word; Bill Chambers dropped'is pipe and smashed it, Henery Walker sat staring after 'im with 'ismouth wide open, and Sam Jones, who was always one to take advantage,drank 'is own beer under the firm belief that it was Joe's.

  "'I shall take care that Mrs. Pawlett 'ears o' this,' ses Henery, atlast.

  "'And be asked wot you dug your garden up for,' ses Joe, 'and 'ave toexplain that you broke your promise to George. Why, she'd talk at us foryears and years.'

  "'And parson 'ud preach a sermon about it,' ses Sam; 'where's yoursense, Henery?'

  "'We should be the larfing-stock for miles round,' ses Bill Chambers.'If anybody wants to know, I dug my garden up to enrich the soil fornext year, and also to give some other chap a chance of the prize.'

  "Peter Smith 'as always been a unfortunit man; he's got the name for it.He was just 'aving another drink as Bill said that, and this time we allthought 'e'd gorn. He did hisself.

  "Mrs. Pawlett and the parson came 'ome next day, an' 'er voice got thatsqueaky with surprise it was painful to listen to her. All the chapsstuck to the tale that they'd dug their garden up to give the others achance, and Henery Walker, 'e went further and said it was owing to asermon on unselfishness wot the curate 'ad preached three weeks afore.He 'ad a nice little red-covered 'ymn-book the next day with 'From afriend' wrote in it.

  "All things considered, Mrs. Pawlett was for doing away with the FlowerShow that year and giving two prizes next year instead, but one or twoother chaps, encouraged by Bob's example, 'ad given in their names too,and they said it wouldn't be fair to their wives. All the gardens butone was worse than Bob's, they not having started till later than wot 'edid, and not being able to get their geraniums from 'is florist. Theonly better garden was Ralph Thomson's, who lived next door to 'im, buttwo nights afore the Flower Show 'is pig got walking in its sleep. Ralphsaid it was a mystery to 'im 'ow the pig could ha' got out; it must ha'put its foot through a hole too small for it, and turned the button ofits door, and then climbed over a four-foot fence. He told Bob 'e wishedthe pig could speak, but Bob said that that was sinful and unchristianof 'im, and that most likely if it could, it would only call 'im a loto' bad names, and ask 'im why he didn't feed it properly.

  "There was quite a crowd on Flower Show day following the judges. Firstof all, to Bill Chambers's astonishment and surprise, they went to 'isplace and stood on the 'eaps in 'is garden judging 'em, while Billpeeped at 'em through the kitchen winder 'arf-crazy. They went to everygarden in the place, until one of the young ladies got tired of it, andasked Mrs. Pawlett whether they was there to judge cottage gardens orearthquakes.

  "Everybody 'eld their breaths that evening in the school room when Mrs.Pawlett got up on the platform and took a slip of paper from one of thejudges. She stood a moment waiting for silence, and then 'eld up her'and to stop what she thought was clapping at the back, but which wastwo or three wimmen who 'ad 'ad to take their crying babies out tryingto quiet 'em in the porch. Then Mrs. Pawlett put 'er glasses on her noseand just read out, short and sweet, that the prize of three sovereignsand a metal teapot for the best-kept cottage garden 'ad been won by Mr.Robert Pretty.

  "One or two people patted Bob on the back as 'e walked up the middle totake the prize; then one or two more did, and Bill Chambers's pat wasthe 'eartiest of 'em all. Bob stopped and spoke to 'im about it.

  "You would 'ardly think that Bob 'ud have the cheek to stand up thereand make a speech, but 'e did. He said it gave 'im great pleasure totake the teapot and the money, and the more pleasure because 'e feltthat 'e had earned 'em. He said that if 'e told 'em all 'e'd done tomake sure o' the prize they'd be surprised. He said that 'e'd been likeRalph Thomson's pig, up early and late.

  "He stood up there talking as though 'e was never going to leave off,and said that 'e hoped as 'is example would be of benefit to 'isneighbours. Some of 'em seemed to think that digging was everything, but'e could say with pride that 'e 'adn't put a spade to 'is garden forthree years until a week ago, and then not much.

  "He finished 'is remarks by saying that 'e was going to give a tea-partyup at the Cauliflower to christen the teapot, where 'e'd be pleased towelcome all friends. Quite a crowd got up and followed 'im out then,instead o' waiting for the dissolving views, and came back 'arf an hourarterwards, saying that until they'd got as far as the Cauliflowerthey'd no idea as Bob was so per-tikler who 'e mixed with.

  "That was the last Flower Show we ever 'ad in Claybury, Mrs. Pawlett andthe judges meeting the tea-party coming 'ome, and 'aving to get over agate into a field to let it pass. What with that and Mrs. Pawletttumbling over something further up the road, which turned out to be theteapot, smelling strong of beer, the Flower Show was given up, and theparson preached three Sundays running on the sin of beer-drinking tochildren who'd never 'ad any and wimmen who couldn't get it."

  PRIVATE CLOTHES