avy blooms, and came forward with a
smile of welcome.

"Come in--come in, the both of you! What lovely weather! You'll excuse
my not taking off my gloves? We are busy, you see, and some of my new
beauties have the most dreadful thorns! . . . By the way"--she glanced
over her shoulder, following Cai's incredulous stare. "I believe you
know Mr Middlecoat? Yes, yes, of course--I remember!" She laughed and
beckoned forward the young farmer, who dropped his occupation among the
rosebuds and shuffled forward obediently enough, yet wearing an
expression none too gracious.

"'Afternoon, gentlemen," mumbled Farmer Middlecoat, and his sulky tone
seemed to show that he had not forgotten previous encounters.
"Won't offer to shake hands. 'Cos why?" He showed the backs of his
own, which were lacerated and bleeding. "Caterpillars," added Mr
Middlecoat in explanation.

"There now!" cried Mrs Bosenna in accents of genuine dismay. "I'd no
idea you were tearin' yourself like that--and so easy to ask Dinah to
fetch out a pair o' gloves!"

"Do you mean to say, sir," asked Cai in his simplicity, "that
caterpillars bite?"

"No, I don't," answered Mr Middlecoat. "But you can't get at 'em and
avoid these pesky thorns."

Said Mrs Bosenna gaily,--"Mr Middlecoat called on me half an hour ago
wi' the purpose to make himself disagreeable as usual--though I forget
what his excuse was, this time--and I set him to hunt caterpillars."

"Dang it, look at my hands!" growled the young farmer, holding them out.

"And last month, wi' that spell of east wind, 'twas the green-fly.
But I reckon we've mastered the pests by this time. Didn't find many
caterpillars, eh?"

"No, I didn'," answered Mr Middlecoat, still sulkily. "But them as I
did you bet I scrunched."

"Well, they deserved it, for the last few be the dangerousest.
They give over the leaves to eat the buds. But 'tis labour well spent
on 'em, and we'll have baskets on baskets now, by Jubilee Day."

"'Tis the Queen's flower--the royal flower--sure enough," said Cai,
looking about him in admiration. He had not visited the new garden for
some weeks, and on the last visit it had been but an unpromising patch
stuck about with stiff, thorny twigs, all leafless, the most of them
projecting but a few inches above the soil. The plants were short yet,
and the garden itself far from beautiful; but the twigs had thrown up
shoots, and on the shoots had opened, or were opening, roses th