"What! front of the Rector's winder?"
"Yes; all over."
"'Ow many 'ave you got 'ere?"
"Three hundred; but they don't take long planting."
"'Ope not! I've got a good bit else to to do; can't fiddle faddle over them."
"Put them in the right side up. I want them to grow," I called after his retreating figure. Then I eyed my pile of bulbs.
Of course I did know the right side up of a bulb; of course everybody did; and if anyone was likely to make a mistake it was surely Griggs, so it was clearly no use asking him. Nice brown thing, why had you not given just one little green sprout as the crocuses and snowdrops had done, so that there could be no mistake? And what would happen if they were planted topsy-turvy? Could they send up shoots from anywhere they chose? or would the perversity of such a position be too much for their budding vitality? I did not wish to try the experiment; my daffodils must make their appearance next March. I ranged them out in broad circles under one or two trees, in patches at the corner of projecting borders, and walked away to see the effect from different points; the effect, not of brown specks, but of sheets of gold that were to be.
His Reverence found me with my head on one side taking in the future from the drawing-room windows.
"You seem very busy, Mary."
"I am. You see, it is a great thing to place them where they can stay. I like permanent things. It will be lovely, won't it, to see that golden patch under the mulberry tree and another at the corner there; and then under the chestnut just a sheet of white?"