“Henery wouldn’t believe it at first, but when he saw Bob show ’is missus ’ow to pat the path down with the back o’ the spade and hold the nails for ’er while she nailed a climbing nasturtium to the fence, he went off and fetched Bill Chambers and one or two others, and they all leaned over the fence breathing their ’ardest and a-saying of all the nasty 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 ways suit 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. ‘Pick those bits o’ grass out o’ the path, old gal,’ he ses to ’is wife; ‘they look untidy, and untidiness I can’t abear.’ “He walked up and down smoking ’is pipe and pretending not to notice Henery Walker, wot ’ad moved farther along the fence, and was staring at some drabble-tailed-looking geraniums as if ’e’d seen ’em afore but wasn’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. ‘Be reasonable, Henery, and ask yourself whether it’s likely I should tell you ’is name. Why, I’ve never seen sich fine geraniums afore. I’ve been nursing ’em inside all the summer, and just planted ’em out.’ “‘About two days arter I threw mine over my back fence,’ ses Henery Walker, 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, but because he couldn’t. “‘That one,’ ses Bob, pointing at a broken geranium with the stem of ’is pipe, ’is a “Dook o’ Wellington,” and that white one there is wot I’m going to call “Pretty’s Pride.” That fine marigold over there, wot looks like a sunflower, is called “Golden Dreams.”’ “‘Come along, Henery,’ ses Bill Chambers, bursting, ‘come and get something 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 afford it. If you chaps only knew wot pleasure was to be ’ad sitting among your innercent flowers, you wouldn’t want to go to the public-house so often.’ “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 the sweat off ’is brow. “Bill Chambers did a bit o’ thinking as they walked up the road, and by and 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.