"Yes; if you like to torture them into that position; but they will grow and bear better like ordinary apple-trees or pears, only asking for abundant pruning, plenty of water, and freedom from insect plagues. If you prefer so doing, you may grow them in large pots, the same as you would camellias, and ornament your dining-table with a beautiful little eighteen-inch or two-feet high Early Louise peach, an Elruge nectarine, or Moor Park apricot, bearing its dozen or so of perfectly-shaped fruit. And to the man of frugal mind this has its advantages; for every one exclaims, `Oh, it would be a pity to pick them!' and the dessert is saved." "My dear James, I shall never say that, I promise you." "You're a humbug, Jack. Here we are, and all this place, asking you to run down and share some of its fruits, but you will never come. But to proceed. I think I shall write a pamphlet on this subject." "I would," said the doctor, drily. "I don't care for your chaff, my boy. I want to see poor people refine their ways,--working-men growing vines, old ladies with orchard houses." "And I hope you may get it," said the doctor. "My dear Jack," continued Sir James, "such a structure as an orchard house for a long period of the year is `a thing of beauty,' and a walk down the central avenue, with the little trees blooming, leafing, and fruiting, is `a joy, for ever' so long. There is a large sound about that `central avenue,' but, believe me, there is great pleasure to be derived if the little path be only six feet long, and this is a pleasure that can be enjoyed by the man of very humble means, who may make it profitable if he has the heart to sell his pets. Even in the simplest structure there is infinite variety to be obtained." "I daresay," said the doctor. "I say, how this leaf has curled up. It has killed the insects, though." "So would you curl up if a giant held a red hot cigar end against your body," said Sir James. "Do I bore you?" "Not a bit, my dear boy; not a bit," cried the doctor. "You do me good. Your verdant prose refreshes me, and makes me think the world is better than it is." "Get out. But I've nearly done. I say, Jack, I'm trying this on you. It's part of a lecture I'm writing to deliver at our National School." "And here have I been sitting admiring your eloquence. Oh! James Scarlett, what a deceitful world is this! But there: go on, old enthusiast."