I propose is--

_G.O.G._ (_laying a horny hand on S.C.'s coat-sleeve_). If you'll
ascuse me, Sir, I'll jest give yer _my_ ideas. It'll save time. (_Lays
down artfully the lines of a plan involving radical alteration of
paths, and lawns, and beds, shifting of shrubs, cutting down of trees,
rooting up of trailers, and what he calls "toppin' an' loppin'" to a
tremendous extent._) _Then_, Sir, you'll 'ave a bit o' garding as'll
be the pride o' yer eye, and a tidy bit o' profit into the bargain,
or I don't know my bizness. An' I _oughter_ too, seeing as I wos 'ed
gardener to the Dook of FITZ-FUZZ for close on twenty year, afore the
rheumaticks took me like wot you see. Hu-a-a-h!!!

_S.C._ Yes; but, SMUGGINS, all these alterations will run into time
and--expense, I'm afraid.

_G.O.G._ (_confidentially)._ You leave that to _me_, Sir! The fust
expense'll be the biggest, and a saving in the long run, take _my_
word. And then you _will_ 'ave a garding, _you_ will, one as that 'ere
muddled up bit o' greenery nex door won't be a patch on it, for all
he's so proud of it.(_Gets Simple Citizen into his clutches, and
works him to his will_.)

SCENE II.--_The Same, six months later in the Season._

_S.C._ (_returning from a fortnight's absence_). What, SMUGGINS, still
at it? And--eh--by Jove, what _have_ you been up to? Why I hardly know
the place again!

_G.O.G._ (_complacently_). I should 'ope not, Sir It _is_ a bit
different from when you last saw it, I flatter myself. Fact it is a
garding, now. _Then_ it wos a wildernidge!

_S.C._ Yes, but SMUGGINS, hang it all, you've cut almost every bit of
greenery away!

_G.O.G._ (_contemptuously_). Greenery!!! And who wants _greenery_?
Greenery ain't gardening, greenery ain't not by chorks. Any fool, even
that cove nex door, can grow _greenery_!

_S.C._ Yes, but SMUGGINS, I _don't_ like my limes to look like
gouty posts, my branchy elms to show as bare as broom-sticks, and my
fruit-trees to be trimmed into timber-screens!

_G.O.G._ (_persuasively_). No, Sir, cert'ny _not_. Fact is they'd bin
let grow wild so long that cutting on 'em freely back wos the only way
to save 'em. Jest wait till next year, Sir, and _you_'ll see.

_S.C._ (_doubtfully_). Humph! Looks beastly now, anyhow. And you've
altered all the paths, and nearly all the beds. I didn't tell you--

_G.O.G._ (_emphatically_). No, Sir, you didn't. You give me _cart
blarnch_, you did, and I've done my level best. The Do