_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 Dook 'ad the same idees at first, but when he comes to know me, he says, says he, SMUGGINS, you're always right, he says. If you wos to run a reaping-machine through my horchids, or a traction-engine over my turf, I should know as you wos a-doing of the right thing--_in_ the long run! Oh, you leave it to me, Sir, and you won't repent it. And--ahem--here's my little haccount, Sir,--_hup_ to date. [_Presents dirty piece of blue paper, giving scanty details, and a spanking total. Simple Citizen pays, and tries to look pleasant._ [Illustration] SCENE III. _The Same, six months later. Present, Simple Citizen, and a Sympathetic Friend. _Sympathetic Friend_. Well, well, it _does_ look a waste, APPLEYARD. _Simple Citizen_ (_purple_). A waste! I should think it _did_. indeed! And to think of the pretty, green, bowery place it was when I took it! Unprofitable, perhaps, but pleasant. Now it is neither pleasant _nor_ profitable. _S.F._ And all through that rascally ravaging SMUGGINS?