It was the day arter this one Im speaking about, the 16th o June, that the trouble all began, and it came about in a very eggstrordinary way. George English, a quiet man getting into years, who used when e was younger to foller the sea, and whose only misfortin was that e was a brother-in-law o Bob Prettys, his sister marrying Bob while e was at sea and knowing nothing about it, ad a letter come from a mate of his who ad gone to Australia to live. Hed ad letters from Australia before, as we all knew from Miss Wicks at the post-office, but this one upset him altogether. He didnt seem like to know what to do about it.
While he was wondering Bill Chambers passed. He always did pass Georges ouse about that time in the evening, it being on is way ome, and he saw George standing at is gate with a letter in is and looking very puzzled.
Evenin, George, ses Bill.
Evenin, ses George.
Not bad news, I ope? ses Bill, noticing is manner, and thinking it was strange.
No, ses George. Ive just ad a very eggstrordinary letter from Australia, he ses, thats all.
Bill Chambers was always a very inquisitive sort o man, and he stayed and talked to George until George, arter fust making him swear oaths that e wouldnt tell a soul, took im inside and showed im the letter.
It was more like a story-book than a letter. Georges mate, John Biggs by name, wrote to say that an uncle of his who had just died, on is deathbed told him that thirty years ago he ad been in this very village, staying at this ere very Cauliflower, whose beer were drinking now. In the night, when everybody was asleep, he got up and went quiet-like and buried a bag of five hundred and seventeen sovereigns and one half-sovereign in one of the cottage gardens till e could come for it agin. He didnt say ow he come by the money, and, when Bill spoke about that, George English said that, knowing the man, he was afraid e adnt come by it honest, but anyway his friend John Biggs wanted it, and, wot was more, ad asked im in the letter to get it for im.
And wot Im to do about it, Bill, he ses, I dont know. All the directions he gives is, that e thinks it was the tenth cottage on the right-and side of the road, coming down from the Cauliflower. He thinks its the tenth, but es not quite sure. Do you think Id better make it known and offer a reward of ten shillings, say, to any one who finds it?
No, ses Bill, shaking is ead. I should hold on a bit if I was you, and think it over. I shouldnt tell another single soul, if I was you.
I beleeve youre right, ses George. John Biggs would never forgive me if I lost that money for im. Youll remember about keeping it secret, Bill?
Bill swore he wouldnt tell a soul, and e went off ome and ad his supper, and then e walked up the road to the Cauliflower and back, and then up and back again, thinking over what George ad been telling im, and noticing, what e d never taken the trouble to notice before, that is very house was the tenth one from the Cauliflower.
Mrs. Chambers woke up at two oclock next morning and told Bill to get up further, and then found e wasnt there. She was rather surprised at first, but she didnt think much of it, and thought, what happened to be true, that e was busy in the garden, it being a light night. She turned over and went to sleep again, and at five when she woke up she could distinctly ear Bill working is ardest. Then she went to the winder and nearly dropped as she saw Bill in his shirt and trousers digging away like mad. A quarter of the garden was all dug up, and she shoved open the winder and screamed out to know what e was doing.
Bill stood up straight and wiped is face with his shirt-sleeve and started digging again, and then his wife just put something on and rushed downstairs as fast as she could go.
What on earth are you a-doing of, Bill? she screams.
Go indoors, ses Bill, still digging.
Have you gone mad? she ses, half-crying.
Bill just stopped to throw a lump of mould at her, and then went on digging till Henery Walker, who also thought e ad gone mad, and didnt want to stop im too soon, put is ead over the edge and asked im the same thing.
Ask no questions and youll ear no lies, and keep your ugly face your own side of the edge, ses Bill. Take it indoors and frighten the children with, he ses. I dont want it staring at me.
Henery walked off offended, and Bill went on with his digging. He wouldnt go to work, and e ad his breakfast in the garden, and his wife spent all the morning in the front answering the neighbours questions and begging of em to go in and say something to Bill. One of em did go, and came back amost directly and stood there for hours telling diffrent people wot Bill ad said to er, and asking whether e couldnt be locked up for it.
By tea-time Bill was dead-beat, and that stiff he could ardly raise is bread and butter to his mouth. Several o the chaps looked in in the evening, but all they could get out of im was, that it was a new way o cultivating is garden e ad just eard of, and that those who lived the longest would see the most. By night-time ed nearly finished the job, and is garden was just ruined.
Afore people ad done talking about Bill, Im blest if Peter Smith didnt go and cultivate is garden in exactly the same way. The parson and is wife was away on their oliday, and nobody could say a word. The curate who ad come over to take is place for a time, and who took the names of people for the Flower Show, did point out to im that he was spoiling is chances, but Peter was so rude to im that he didnt stay long enough to say much.
When Joe Gubbins started digging up is garden people began to think they were all bewitched, and I went round to see Henery Walker to tell im wot a fine chance ed got, and to remind im that Id put another ninepence on im the night before. All e said was, More fool you, and went on digging a ole in his garden big enough to put a ouse in.
In a fortnights time there wasnt a garden worth looking at in the place, and it was quite clear thered be no Flower Show that year, and of all the silly, bad-tempered men in the place them as ad dug up their pretty gardens was the wust.
It was just a few days before the day fixed for the Flower Show, and I was walking up the road when I see Joe and Henery Walker and one or two more leaning over Bob Prettys fence and talking to im. I stopped, too, to see what they were looking at, and found they was watching Bobs two boys a-weeding of is garden. It was a disgraceful, untidy sort of place, as I said before, with a few marigolds and nasturtiums, and sich-like put in anywhere, and Bob was walking up and down smoking of is pipe and watching is wife hoe atween the plants and cut off dead marigold blooms.
Thats a pretty garden youve got there, Bob, ses Joe, grinning.
Ive seen wuss, ses Bob.
Going in for the Flower Show, Bob? ses Henery, with a wink at us.
O course I am, ses Bob olding is ead up; my marigolds ought to pull me through, he ses.
Henery wouldnt 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.
Going in for the Flower Show, Bob? ses Henery, with a wink at us.
O course I am, ses Bob olding is ead up; my marigolds ought to pull me through, he ses.
Henery wouldnt 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.
Its the best-kep garden in the place, ses Bob. I aint 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 aint ad the cheek to give your name in, Bob? ses Sam Jones, staring.
Bob didnt answer im. Tick those bits o grass out o the path, old gal, he ses to is wife; they look untidy, and untidiness I cant 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 ed seen em afore but wasnt quite sure where.
Admiring my geraniums, Henery? ses Bob at last.
Whered you get em? ses Henery, ardly able to speak.
My florists, ses Bob, in a off-hand manner.
Your wot? asks Henery.
My florist, ses Bob.
And who might e be when es at home? asked Henery.
Taint so likely Im going to tell you that, ses Bob. Be reasonable, Henery, and ask yourself whether its likely I should tell you is name. Why, Ive never seen sich fine geraniums afore. Ive 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 didnt know you ad any geraniums, Henery. I thought you was digging for gravel this year.
Henery didnt answer im. Not because e didnt want to, mind you, but because he couldnt.
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 Im going to call Prettys 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.
Im sorry I cant offer you a flower for your button-ole, ses Bob, perlitely, but its getting so near the Flower Show now I cant afford it. If you chaps only knew wot pleasure was to be ad sitting among your innercent flowers, you wouldnt 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.
None of em liked to say wot was in their minds, aving all seen George English and swore pretty strong not to tell his secret, and none of em liking to own up that theyd been digging up their gardens to get money as ed told em about. But presently Bill Chambers ses:
Without telling no secrets or breaking no promises, Joe, supposing a certain ouse was mentioned in a certain letter from forrin parts, wot ouse was it?
Supposing it was so, ses Joe, careful too; the second ouse counting from the Cauliflower.
The ninth ouse, you mean, ses Henery Walker, sharply.
Second ouse in Mill Lane, you mean, ses Sam Jones, wot lived there.
Then they all see ow theyd been done, and that they wasnt, in a manner o speaking, referring to the same letter. They came up and sat ere where were sitting now, all dazed-like. It wasnt only the chance o losing the prize that upset em, but theyd wasted their time and ruined their gardens and got called mad by the other folks. Henery Walkers state o mind was dreadful for to see, and he kep thinking of orrible things to say to George English, and then being afraid they wasnt strong enough.
While they was talking who should come along but George English hisself! He came right up to the table, and they all sat back on the bench and stared at im fierce, and Henery Walker crinkled is nose at him.
Evening, he ses, but none of em answered im; they all looked at Henery to see wot e was going to say.
Wots up? ses George, in surprise.
Gardens, ses Henery.
So Ive eard, ses George.
He shook is ead and looked at them sorrowful and severe at the same time.
So I eard, and I couldnt believe my ears till I went and looked for myself, he ses, and wot I want to say is this: you know wot Im referring to. If any man as found wot dont belong to him e knows who to give it to. It aint wot I should ave expected of men wots lived in the same place as me for years. Talk about honesty, e ses, shaking is ead agin, I should like to see a little of it.
Peter Smith opened his mouth to speak, and ardly knowing wot e was doing took a pull at is beer at the same time, and if Sam Jones adnt been by to thump im on the back I blieve hed ha died there and then.
Mark my words, ses George English, speaking very slow and solemn, therell be no blessing on it. Whoevers made is fortune by getting up and digging is garden over wont get no real benefit from it. He may wear a black coat and new trousers on Sunday, but e wont be appy. Ill go and get my little taste o beer somewhere else, e ses. I cant breathe here.
He walked off before any one could say a word; Bill Chambers dropped is pipe and smashed it, Henery Walker sat staring after im with is mouth wide open, and Sam Jones, who was always one to take advantage, drank is own beer under the firm belief that it was Joes.
I shall take care that Mrs. Pawlett ears o this, ses Henery, at last.
And be asked wot you dug your garden up for, ses Joe, and ave to explain that you broke your promise to George. Why, shed talk at us for years and years.
And parson ud preach a sermon about it, ses Sam; wheres your sense, Henery?
We should be the larfing-stock for miles round, ses Bill Chambers. If anybody wants to know, I dug my garden up to enrich the soil for next year, and also to give some other chap a chance of the prize.
Peter Smith as always been a unfortunit man; hes got the name for it. He was just aving another drink as Bill said that, and this time we all thought ed gorn. He did hisself.
Mrs. Pawlett and the parson came ome next day, an er voice got that squeaky with surprise it was painful to listen to her. All the chaps stuck to the tale that theyd dug their garden up to give the others a chance, and Henery Walker, e went further and said it was owing to a sermon on unselfishness wot the curate ad preached three weeks afore. He ad a nice little red-covered ymn-book the next day with From a friend wrote in it.