A cow is a very good animal in the field; but we turn her out of a garden.

--_Johnson._

YOUR garden's friends and foes,--have you ever thought about them as such? You go to a lot of trouble to raise fine flowers and vegetables, and then, if you are not on the lookout, before you know it something has happened! Your rose leaves are discovered full of holes, and your potato vines almost destroyed; your tomato plants are being eaten up by the big, ugly "tomato worm," while your choicest flowers are dying from the inroads of green or brown insects so tiny that at first you do not notice them; and strong plants of all kinds are found cut off close to the ground. What further proof do you need that your beloved garden has its enemies?

Here indeed "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." If you would be free and escape such ravages, you can not wait until your foes are full-fledged and hard at work, because usually considerable damage has then been done. Instead, you should learn at the time you begin gardening all about the many difficulties you have to contend with, including the various things that prey upon your plants.

When you plant seed, for instance, and it fails to come up, you are apt to blame either the dealer or the weather man. Just as likely as not, though, some insect had attacked the seed before it was planted, or else the grubs got busy and enjoyed a full meal. These pests, with their various relations, are the most difficult of all to control, but poisoned bait (freshly cut clover that has been sprayed with Paris green,) scattered on the ground where cut worms come out at night to feed, will destroy many of them. When your plants have begun to grow, however, and you find them being nipped off close to the ground, dig close to the stem and you will probably bring to light a cut worm curled up in his favorite position, and you can end him then and there from doing further damage. The wire worm, on the contrary, works entirely below the surface, and when you spade up a long, slender, jointed, brownish, wriggling worm, quite hard, you will know that he is one of the kind to be immediately destroyed.

These grubs and worms are the different kind of caterpillars,--the children,--of several varieties of moths that fly by night, the shining brown beetle that b.u.mps against the ceiling on a summer evening, and the funny "snap-bug." Crawling or flying, young or old, parent or child, they generally do their worst after dark. Equal parts of soot and lime, well mixed, scattered in a four-inch ring around each stem on the top of the soil, will keep away the things that crawl, while white h.e.l.lebore (a poison that must not get on little fingers,) dusted on the plants will keep off most of the things that fly. Rose bugs, however, seem to come in a cla.s.s by themselves! Apparently, they don't mind any of the well-known deterrents and about the only way to really get rid of them is to "go bugging," which means knocking them off into a cup of kerosene or a box where they can be killed.

Caterpillars, naked or hairy, eat vegetation, and are consequently most unwelcome visitors. The sowbug or pill-bug, while disagreeable to look at, is not quite so injurious as often thought, but the mite called the red spider can do a lot of damage. Most of the beetles seriously injure the vegetables. The saw-flies with their offspring, and certain kinds of ants (especially the "soldier ants") are as troublesome as the caterpillars, while the next family group, the gra.s.shoppers, locusts, katydids and crickets are all great feeders,--the gra.s.shoppers and locusts often becoming an actual plague and destroying whole crops. To get rid of the caterpillars and beetles various means are employed, such as spraying with Paris green, Bordeaux mixture, kerosene emulsion, or even strong suds made with whale-oil soap; and Paris green is also applied dry. A pretty good poison is bran-and-a.r.s.enic mixture, but the different liquids and powders make a story by themselves, and require great care in using; so you better consult some successful gardener-friend about the best one (and the way to use it,) for your particular foe.

Of the sucking insects,--those that draw out the juice or sap of the plant,--the aphides or "plant lice" do inestimable damage to all kinds of plants and flowers, while the chinch bug and garden tree-hopper seem to prefer to attack vegetables. The most familiar aphides are green, and they have tiny, soft, pear-shaped bodies, with long legs and "feelers."

They usually live on the under side of the leaves and along the stems, and one good way to get rid of them is to spray with kerosene emulsion or tobacco water, or else sprinkle with clear water and then dust with tobacco dust.

Not all of the live things that you find about your plants and flowers are injurious, however, and you must learn to recognize those which are beneficial. The ladybug, although a beetle, lives on aphides, and so is your helper in destroying them. Several beetles, like the fiery ground beetle, subsist on cutworms, and the soldier bug dines on the destructive offspring of beetles and moths. The daddy-long-legs and the spider are also friends to your garden, together with many wasps.

As for the bees, many, many plants are dependent on them for fertilization, as the insects in their search for honey go clear down into the flowers and carry with them the necessary pollen from one blossom to another. Two stories I have heard ill.u.s.trate this point. In Australia many years ago people tried to introduce clover, but they could not make it grow until some one thought of importing the bees also. The native insects did not have a proboscis long enough to reach to the bottom of the flower, so that the pollen had never been properly placed. Then, not very long ago, a farmer living near a railroad had his crop of tomatoes ruined because the railroad used soft coal, the soot of which--settling on the tomato blossoms--kept away the bees so that the flowers were not fertilized! He sued the company and recovered damages.

So you see the bee is really necessary for the success of your garden.

Toads eat many of your small enemies, and should be encouraged by providing an upturned box or some cool, shady place in your garden where they can rest during the day,--for much of this "dog-eat-dog" business, sometimes termed "the law of the jungle," goes on at night.

Birds, however, wage open warfare, in broad daylight, and wherever the soil has been cultivated, in the fields or among the plants and flowers, the feathered tribe seek the very things you want destroyed. A well-known nurseryman, when the English sparrow was first introduced in this country, noticed many of the birds among his choice roses, and to satisfy himself that they were not injuring the plants, killed one of the fattest. An investigation of his little stomach showed it to be chock-full of rose slugs and aphides,--the rose's worst enemies!

The robins, of the thrush family, live almost entirely on worms and insects, and the bluebirds, orioles, tanagers and starlings, with the various songsters, should all be given a most cordial invitation to pay you a long visit. And this invitation? A place to live, if only a box nailed up on a tree, with an opening small enough to keep out intruders.

A bird house more attractive in your own eyes is easily made by any boy or girl handy with a knife or a jig-saw, and really artistic houses, suited to particular birds, are described in various books and magazines, made from pieces of bark, sections of limb, or fir cones. A little study of the kind of nest each bird makes for itself may enable you to select your guests. The swallow, the cat-bird, the blackbird, the finch,--all should be welcomed: and suet tied on the branches, bread crumbs scattered around your door, grain sprinkled where you especially want them to come, will encourage the winter birds to pay you a daily visit.

A bird bath is sure to prove an irresistible attraction. I have seen my back yard full of starlings and sparrows, pushing and crowding each other to get into a little pool where the snow has melted around a clothes-pole! A shallow pan, with an inch or two of water, will often draw so many birds that it has to be filled again and again during the day. Birds suffer, too, in winter from thirst, and greatly appreciate a drinking place. A bird fountain, with its running water, is a delight for the rich; but a pretty enamelled tray, white or gray, and round, square or oval, can be bought in a department store for less than a dollar, and it can be sunk in the top of a vine-covered rockery or securely placed on a mossy stump, where it will bring both joy and birds to the smallest gardener.

So cheer up. Though your foes, as described, seem a formidable army, remember all the friends that will rally to your aid, and with reasonable watchfulness and care, you and your garden will come out victorious.

CHAPTER XII

A Morning Glory Playhouse

Small service is true service while it lasts.

Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one; The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

--_Wordsworth._

YOU children love a playhouse, don't you? Yet it isn't always easy to get one. A morning glory bower, however, is a perfect delight, and very easy to make. Persuade some big brother to drive a few long stakes in the ground so as to mark out either a square or a circle, as you prefer.

Then ask him to fasten some heavy cord from the bottom of one stake to the top of the next nearest, and then across the top, leaving only a place at one side for an entrance. Soak your morning glory seeds over night, so that they will germinate more quickly, and then plant them along the line of the circle or square marked on the ground. As soon as they begin to grow, train the vines on the cords, and if necessary tie in a few more strings near the bottom, to help the baby climbers get started.

The morning glory grows very rapidly, and is justly popular because of its lovely blossoms which come in the most beautiful shades. And as the flowers always turn away from the sun, you will find them soon completely lining the inside of your playhouse.

The most common kind (Convolvulus major,) grows from 15 to 20 ft., and will do well in almost any location. It costs only five cents per packet, and will flower all summer. Who could ask more! The rarer kinds are known as the j.a.panese Morning Glory, which grows from 30 to 50 ft., and has blossoms measuring from 3 to 4 inches across. These range from snowy white to darkest purple through the pinks, both plain and with all kinds of variations. They grow and spread very fast, and love a sunny location.

If you prefer, you can use the trunk of some tree for the center pole of your playhouse. (Possibly some of you at the opera may have seen Siegmund draw the magic sword from the big tree-trunk in the center of his sweetheart's home.) Well, you could attach cords from pegs driven in a circle around the base, to the tree at any height desired, and here plant either the scarlet runner or the hyacinth bean.

Still another way is to plant two poles 8 or 10 ft. apart, and have a stick nailed across the top, like the ridge pole of a tent. Drive pegs into the ground along each side, in parallel lines 6 or 8 ft. apart, and tie heavy cords from the pegs on one side to the pegs on the other,--carried, of course, over the ridgepole. Plant your seeds close to the pegs, and in a few weeks your vines will form a flower tent. For this purpose, you might use the climbing nasturtiums or the wild cuc.u.mber vine. Or, if you can save up the fifteen cents necessary, buy the new cardinal climber, which has cl.u.s.ters of five to seven blossoms each, of a beautiful cardinal red, from July until late fall. The vine grows rapidly, and often more than 20 ft. long, so that when it reaches the ridge-pole, you can let it run over the other side, and make a good thick roof. The seeds are very hard, however, and so should either be soaked over night, or slightly nicked with a file.

If you get a firm, strong framework for your playhouse, you might like to plant a hardy vine that would live through the winter and be ready for use early next summer without further trouble. In that case, you could use the Dutchman's pipe, which is a fast growing climber having peculiar yellow-brown flowers the shape of a pipe. Though these seeds are only ten cents per packet, the young plants are sold by the nurserymen for fifty cents apiece: so if you grow them yourself you can figure out what a valuable little house you will have!

The everlasting pea is a sprawling, quick grower, having many flowers in a cl.u.s.ter, and blooming in August. It thrives in even the most common soil, and gets better every year. It comes in white, pink and red, and a package of the mixed colors can be bought for five cents.

Other things besides vines are good for flower playhouses. Hollyhocks, planted in a square or a circle, will soon be high enough to screen you from the curious butcher-boy or the neighbor's maid. While most kinds are biennials, and so do not bloom until the second summer, you can either coax a few plants from some grown-up friend that has a lot already established, or you can buy seed of the new annual variety, which, if sown in May, will flower in July!

Sunflowers, too, are to be found in several varieties, ranging from 6 to 8 ft. in height, which you could use for a sort of a stockade, a la Robinson Crusoe. Those having the small blossoms are nice for cutting, while the old-fashioned kind furnishes good feed for the chickens,--in which case your plants would be well worth growing for the seed.

It will never do, however, for you simply to get your flower playhouse started, and then leave it to take care of itself! You must watch the baby plants as soon as they peep out of the ground, help the vines to grow in the right direction and water thoroughly whenever there is a dry spell. Cultivate around the roots every few days, as this breaking up of the hard crust which forms on top will prevent the moisture from escaping through the air channels in the soil, and keep the roots moist.

Several times during the season dig in a trowelful of bonemeal around each plant, and then give a good wetting.

While the hardy vines, after once getting started, bloom every year without much more attention, the annuals have one advantage,--you can have a different kind every time. In other words, you would then be able to give your house a fresh coat of paint,--I should say, flowers--every summer.

CHAPTER XIII

The Work of a Children's Garden Club

I am ever being taught new lessons in my garden: patience and industry by my friends the birds, humility by the great trees that will long outlive me, and vigilance by the little flowers that need my constant care.

--_Rosaline Neish._

DID you ever see the boy or girl that did not want to get up a club? I never did; and the reason is that people, young and old, like to both work and play together. Now a garden club is really worth while, and although I might simply TELL you how to proceed after getting your friends to meet and agree on the purpose, you probably will get a much clearer idea if I relate what a certain group of little folks actually did accomplish.

Fifteen boys and girls living in old Greenwich Village,--today one of the poor, crowded sections of New York City, where even the streets are darkened by a tall, unsightly elevated railroad,--were invited to form a club that would be taken once a week out on Long Island to garden. A vacant lot, one hundred by one hundred and ten feet, in Flushing, about twelve miles away, had been offered for their use, and some of the older people saw that the ground was first properly ploughed up, for, of course, the children couldn't be expected to do that kind of hard work.

But they could, and they eagerly did see that the soil was then properly prepared by breaking up the clods, removing all the sticks and stones, and getting the earth raked beautifully smooth. Several Flushing ladies agreed to help, making out lists of the flowers and vegetables most easily grown there, getting the seeds free by asking for them from their Congressman at Washington, and then showing the children how to plant.

First a five-foot border was measured off clear around the lot, for a flower bed, and each child had its own section. After finding out what each one wanted to grow, one bed was planted to show how the work should be done,--the depth to put in the seeds, the distance the rows should be apart, the way to cover, besides the placing of the tallest flowers at the back or outer edge, and the lowest or edging plants along the foot path.

This 18-in. path ran clear around the lot, leaving a large plot in the center. This plot was then marked off by string or wire to divide it into the vegetable gardens, with little walks between. The vegetable beds measured about 6 by 9 ft., but as 6 ft. proved wide for small arms to reach over and cultivate, this year the beds are to be made 5 by 10 ft. At first, too, each child grew its own few stalks of corn on its own bed, but it was difficult to manage, so now all the corn will be grown in one patch, where it can be more easily hoed.

The radishes and lettuce, of course, grew most quickly, and within five or six weeks were ready for the table. On that memorable first day, from the fifteen beds, over one thousand radishes alone were picked, and that original planting continued to produce for nearly a month. Successive plantings brought on plenty for the rest of the season. The lettuce, too, grew abundantly, while the cuc.u.mbers were especially fine. String beans were ready very early, and three plantings during the season produced sometimes two to three quarts a week for each child. Tomatoes grew in such profusion that once during the hot weather when they ripened faster than usual, a neighboring hospital was given two bushels!

And flowers! The children actually could not carry them away. They took home all they wanted, and made up the rest into thousands of little bunches which the city Plant, Flower and Fruit Guild gladly called for and distributed to the New York City hospitals, jails and missions.

Freshly cut, they would last a week, until the children's next visit to their gardens. With hollyhocks, dahlias, cannas and cosmos at the back of the border, and in front stocks, poppies, sweet alyssum, j.a.panese pinks, nicotiana, and the loveliest blue cornflowers imaginable, they offered a choice variety.

How the children loved the work! One poor little lame boy took some of his morning glory seed back to the slums and planted--where? In a box on the window ledge of a dark court that never saw a ray of sunshine. (The woman in the tenement below objected to having it on the fire escape in front and he had no other place.) And there it actually bloomed, dwarfed like its little owner, fragile beyond words, with a delicate flower no bigger than a dime, but answering the call of love.

The gardens thrived in spite of the only once-a-week care. A pipe line, with a faucet, ran to the center of the lot, and plenty of watering cans were provided for the weekly use, but during any extra hot weather a friendly neighbor would turn on her hose in between times to save the crops. And a children's outgrown playhouse, donated for the purpose, served as a convenient place to keep the garden tools.