The surrounding country, too, is probably the very richest and most suitable district for the growing of cherries, gooseberries, currants, and strawberries; and the frequency and perfection of the market-gardens, orchards, and hop-gardens strike the pedestrian with admiration and amazement. A visit in early spring, when the orchards are in blossom, and others in the cherry- and hop-picking seasons, convince the sceptical that Kent is, in sober truth, the "garden of England." The stranger needs but to spend a week between this and Canterbury; to tramp the high-road and the bye-lanes in the direction of Herne Hill and Whitstable, and he will see abundant evidences of how important is the fruit-growing industry, not only in the fields and gardens, where he may see the fruit growing, but also in the great barns and outhouses bursting with many thousands of bushel-baskets only awaiting the ripening of the cherries and currants to be filled and put upon the rails at Faversham Junction, whence numerous special trains are daily run during the season to London and the Borough Market. Somewhat earlier in the year--generally in mid-June--other evidences of the magnitude of the fruit interest are seen in the auctioneers' sale bills posted on every available board and fence, announcing that the growing crops are presently to be sold by auction. [Sidenote: DISCONTENTED FARMERS] But, in spite of the fertility of Kentish orchards, the countryman will not forego his privilege of grumbling. Singularly enough, he never thinks of eating any of the fruit he grows, and the more plentiful the crops, the less pleased he professes himself to be. Not that, should you come upon him at a season when plenty is less marked, he will be any the more gratified. Hold the peasant proprietor of an orchard in conversation during the fruit season, and you will think him one of the most miserable and unfortunate men in the country. "Good day to you," you say. (Hodge nods his head, and mumbles, "Mor'n'n.") "Splendid crops you have down here. I should think things must be going pretty well in these parts?" "Ay, goin' to the Devil fast enow, I'se warrand." "Oh! how d'you make that out?" "Make it out, is it? Why, look a-here at them there turmuts; d'you iver see sich poor things; ay, an' _all_ the root crops is bad's can be." "Yes; but _you_'re all right with your fruit; cherries and apples." "M'yes, there's a dale o' fruit this year: darned sight too much ter please me." "But you can't very well have too much of a good thing, can you?" "Can't you just, though; look at the price; down ter nothing, as you might say. Get it for the asking." "But _I_ didn't get cherries for the asking; _I_ had to pay eightpence a pound for some I bought at Chatham." "Oh! I dessay. Wish _I_ c'd git a penny a pound. But that's jist like them 'ere starv'em, rob'em, and cheat'em folks. Wouldn't give 'ee so much's the parings o' their finger-nails if they c'd help it."