One of those sunshower memoirs about pre-World War I rural England--this time by a woman whose childhood was spent in her gentry-father's Kent preserves. Nicknamed ""The Blister"" by Henry, the adored head gardener, who is really the subject of this book, the author was both a cross to bear and a devoted companion to Henry. To be sure, there were dreadful moments when the Blister baked Henry's prize potatoes, massacred the cauliflower and had to be rescued from drowning in a rain bucket; but there were wonderful times of joint garden toil, sharing in Henry's triumphs at the flower show, picnics and warm man-to-girl advice. Throughout there is that traditional indulgent affection to a social inferior proffered by ""Authority"" (father) and by the author herself. But this is all part and parcel of that Forever England of rich rustic delights, scatalogical jollities, herbal and kitchen lore (there are some delightfully arcane recipes), ceremonies attended by minor royalty, and a backdrop of beautiful lakes, ponds and meadows. For Anglophilic Countrymen, an almost classic view of Upstairs and Potting Shed.