“You’ll have to do something about them,” she says, “or they’ll overrun the whole place.” It’s all very well her talking. I’m at business all day. I don’t know what she thinks I can do about it. I’m afraid of rats. I don’t mind admitting it. What was she doing up there anyhow? She’s hardly been in the back garden since Father died. It annoys her to see how neglected it’s got. Saturday afternoon, so I thought I’d better investigate. The rockery is at the very top of the garden. When Father was alive it was a sort of a show place—very pretty, rare flowers. All that sort of thing. He used to bring along his gardening friends to show it to them. There was a pool in the center of the rockery, and he meant to put a fountain in the center of the pool. He was working at it shortly before he died. In those days we kept a full-time gardener. But Father always looked after the rockery himself. I hadn’t been in the back garden for ages.
What do You think about Willard (Ratman’s Notebooks)?
