80 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



of passion and license and brutality. 

 The &quot;pusley &quot; would have strangled the 

 strawberry ; the upright corn, which has 

 now ears to hear the guilty beating of 

 the hearts of the children who steal the 

 raspberries, would have been dragged 

 to the earth by the wandering bean ; 

 the snake-grass would have left no place 

 for the potatoes under ground ; and the 

 tomatoes would have been swamped by 

 the lusty weeds. With a firm hand, I 

 have had to make my own &quot;natural 

 selection.&quot; Nothing will so well bear 

 watching as a garden, except a family 

 of children next door. Their power of 

 selection beats mine. If they could 

 read half as well as they can steal a 

 while away, I should put up a notice, 

 &quot;Children, beware ! There is Protoplasm 

 here.&quot; But I suppose it would have no 

 effect. I believe they would eat proto 

 plasm as quick as any thing else, ripe 



