To the gardener's astonishment, and to my disgust, this celebrated policeman proved to be quite a mine of learning on the trumpery subject of rose-gardens.
"Ah, you've got the right exposure here to the south and sou'-west," says the Sergeant, with a wag of his grizzled head, and a streak of pleasure in his melancholy voice.

"This is the shape for a rosery--nothing like a circle set in a square.

Yes, yes; with walks between all the beds.

But they oughtn't to be gravel walks like these.
Grass, Mr.Gardener--grass walks between your roses; gravel's too hard for them.

That's a sweet pretty bed of white roses and blush roses.