80 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



dering bean ; the snake-grass would have left 

 the 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 " natural selection." 

 Nothing will so well bear watching as a gar- 

 den except a family of children next door. 

 Their power of selection beats mine. If 

 they could read half as well as they can steal 

 awhile away, I should put up a notice, 

 " Children, beware! There is Protoplasm 

 here" But I suppose it would have no ef- 

 fect. I believe they would eat protoplasm as 

 quick as anything else, ripe or green. I 

 wonder if this is going to be a cholera-year. 

 Considerable cholera is the only thing that 

 would let my apples and pears ripen. Of 

 course I do not care for the fruit ; but I do 

 not want to take the responsibility of letting 

 so much " life-matter," full of crude and even 

 wicked vegetable-human tendencies, pass into 

 the composition of the neighbors' children, 

 some of whom may be as immortal as snake- 



