This mode of address was one of Griggs's most unpardonable sins, but I never had the strength of character to tell him not to do it.
"But do you cut off all the new growth?" I said, with an inner conviction that if Griggs were doing it it needs must be wrong.
"Well, you trims 'em round a bit, starts 'em growin' more ways than one, d'ye see."
"But those aren't suckers?" I said, still feebly fighting with my ignorance and incredulity.
Then Griggs laughed. He did not like me, and I suppose I ought not to wonder, but he enjoyed laughing at me when he got the chance.
"No-a, they ain't suckers; suckers come from the root, leastways, they start down there, and, bless yer! they be the ol' stock trying to have a look in as you may say. I cuts them off soon as I sees 'em, as they wastes the tree; but you can see suckers as 'as got the upper 'and. That rose front of the 'ouse is all sucker now. 'Twas a beautiful pink rose I mind in old Rector Wood's time."
"That is very instructive," I remarked, feeling no gratitude to Griggs for his information, as he felt no shame for the metamorphosis of the once beautiful pink rose, which was now a wild one. We had wondered how it came to be growing up with the clematis.
"And can't one cut back the suckers and let the pink rose grow again?" I added.
"'Tain't likely," was all I could get out of Griggs.