We are a moral family;
    We are, we are, we are!

All the cardinal virtues bound in—­ahem! no matter.

Talk of the Gigantic Gooseberry!  What is that apocryphal monstrosity compared with this Brobdingnagian Berry? [Sings.

  Bravo, my “British Queen”! 
  Long live my “British Queen”! 
    Brave “British Queen”! 
  Send it victorious,
  First-Prizer glorious,
  Fill Rads censorious
    With envious spleen!

As you will, my Beauty!  When did swaggering H-RC-RT’s horticulture produce such goodly fruits?  Or sour-mug’d M-RL-Y’s?  Or leary L-BBY’s?  Or Slawkenbergian M-ND-LLA’s?  Or even that of the Grand Old Grower, GL-DST-NE himself, with all his fluent patter about British Pomona, and the native Jam-pot?

I know the badly-beaten lot maintain that the plant is a “Sport” from an old purchase of their own.  Bless you, they claim all the good stocks—­always did.  Who cares?  My young floricultural friend, JOE of Birmingham, who knows a bit about fruits as well as concerning orchids, let me tell you,—­JOE, I say, laughs their preposterous pretensions to scorn.  Look at G-SCH-N’s own particular plant there—­a bit late, but very promising, and probably destined to take a prize before the season’s over.  Didn’t JOE recommend the stock to GL-DST-NE years ago?  And didn’t the haughty Hawarden horticulturist turn up his nose at it as an “Unauthorised” intruder upon his own Prize Programme?  And, more by token, didn’t JOE get the hump in consequence, cut the old connection, and set up on his own account in the forcing-house line, with a friendly leaning to our firm?  Aha! “Hinc illae lachrymae,” as the Guv’nor would say.  Hence, also, this Colossal Strawberry!

Thanks of the Society?  I should rayther think so!  They may chaff “OLD MORALITY” as much as they like—­but morality pays, even in strawberry-growing; and my duty to my (British) Queen has brought about this triumph.  Early Industry started it, and careful horticultural Economy brought it to its present pitch of perfection.  Look at it!  Size, shape, sweetness, scent, all superb!  If the Season shouldn’t produce another Prize-Winner, this alone ought to satisfy SOLLY.  And if G-SCH-N’s seedling, “Gratis,” should turn out a triumph later on, why we shall score tremendously.  Wish G-SCH-N would “sit up and snort” less, and smile more.  Patience and plenty of sun!  That’s the tip for a horticulturist.  Standing at the door and shying stones at your neighbour’s glasshouses, won’t make your own fruit ripen, if GEORGE JOKIM could only see it.  As H-RT D-KE says, tu quoques are a nuisance, and want fumigating off the face of the earth.  JOKIM and ARTHUR B-LF-R a bit too fond of ’em for my fancy.  However, all the “you’re anothers” on earth can’t affect my Strawberry now, thanks be! The Fruit of the Season, though I say it who perhaps shouldn’t.