"We wish you'd get rid of what you've got here, sir," he observed, digging doggedly. "Nothing'll grow right with them here." "Shrubs " said the Squire, laughing. "You don't call the peacock trees shrubs, do you? Fine tall trees -- you ought to be proud of them." "Ill weeds grow apace," observed the gardener. "Weeds can grow as houses when somebody plants them." Then he added: "Him that sowed tares in the Bible, Squire." "Oh, blast your --" began the Squire, and then replaced the more apt and alliterative word "Bible" by the general word "superstition." He was himself a robust rationalist, but he went to church to set his tenants an example. Of what, it would have puzzled him to say.