A BUNCH OF HERBS 



farmer goes resolutely to work and destroys 

 ten thousand and thinks the work is finished, 

 but he has done nothing till he has destroyed 

 the ten thousand and one. This one will 

 keep up the stock and again cover his fields 

 with thistles. 



Weeds are Nature's makeshift. She re- 

 joices in the grass and the grain, but when 

 these fail to cover her nakedness she re- 

 sorts to weeds. It is in her plan or a part 

 of her economy to keep the ground con- 

 stantly covered with vegetation of some 

 sort, and she has layer upon layer of seeds 

 in the soil for this purpose, and the won- 

 der is that each kind lies dormant until it 

 is wanted. If I uncover the earth in any 

 of my fields, ragweed and pigweed spring 

 up ; if these are destroyed, harvest grass, 

 or quack grass, or purslane appears. The 

 spade or plow that turns these under is sure 

 to turn up some other variety, as chickweed, 

 sheep-sorrel, or goose-foot. The soil is a 

 storehouse of seeds. 



The old farmers say that wood-ashes will 

 bring in the white clover, and it will ; the 

 germs are in the soil wrapped in a profound 

 slumber, but this stimulus tickles them 

 until they awake. Stramonium has been 



