_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?

_S.C._ (_furiously_). The scoundrel!--the sleek, insinuating,
slaughtering scoundrel! He tore up my paths, he altered my beds, he
mutilated my lawns, he stripped my trailers, he hacked my trees into
bare hideousness, all to make work and money for himself and his
partner in iniquity, that nefarious "florist" friend of his. I was a
greenhorn, MUMPSON, a juggins, and I let them fool me to the top of
my bent. He cut up the shrubbery into those horrible flat beds, in
order that I might "grow my hown wegerbles," as he phrased it. He
got money from me for the best and most expensive "ashleaf kidneys"
and "Prooshian Blues," then planted cheap refuse from a small
greengrocer's. My "ashleaf kidneys" turned out waxy marbles; my
Prooshian Blues refused to pod; I spent--or rather he received--pounds
upon my vinery and cucumber frames. My grape-bunches went mouldy, and
I never got a cucumber more than six inches long. His "friend, the
florist," did, no doubt. He stole my shrubs overnight, and sold
'em back to me next morning. He bled my maidservants for "beer and
'baccy." In fact, it was the same all round; he had, in every way,