Harry Wheatcroft was as famed for his flamboyance as he was for his love of roses. While visiting a flower show one day, garbed in typically florid attire, he was approached by a friend who had noticed his buttonhole curiously adorned, not with his usual rosebud, but with a magnificent carnation. "What's this, Harry?" she asked. "No rose today?" "Sh-h-h," Wheatcroft whispered. "I'm incognito!"

[Wheatcroft grew his first roses in 1929, on a single acre of land. 50 years later, his company was producing 1,500,000 roses per year.]

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