MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 25 



justice. I am an apostle of Nature. 

 This view of the matter lends a dignity 

 to the art of hoeing which nothing else 

 does, and lifts it into the region of 

 ethics. Hoeing becomes, not a pastime, 

 but a duty. And you get to regard it 

 so, as the days and the weeds lengthen. 



Observation. Nevertheless, what a 

 man needs in gardening is a cast-iron 

 back, with a hinge in it. The hoe is 

 an ingenious instrument, calculated to 

 call out a great deal of strength at a 

 great disadvantage. 



The striped bug has come, the saddest 

 of the year. He is a moral double- 

 ender, iron-clad at that. He is un 

 pleasant in two ways. He burrows in 

 the ground so that you cannot find 

 him, and he flies away so that you 

 cannot catch him. He is rather hand 

 some, as bugs go, but utterly dastardly, 

 in that he gnaws the stem of the plant 



