CHAPTER TENTH 



AN OLD-FASHIONED 

 GARDEN 



E world at large is a most intricate 

 machine, and parts viewed separately 

 give no hint of their importance to what 

 appear quite independent objects. Man may 

 dissociate without destroying, but, when he 

 does so, his constant attention must then take 

 the place of the afts that Nature designed 

 other conditions of life should perform. 

 The isolated plant, for instance, is destroyed 

 by insefts unless we protect it by a glass 

 covering or a poison-bath : Nature gave it to 

 the birds to protedl: the plant, and in so 

 doing find food for themselves. This law 

 of interdependence is made very plain in the 

 case of a modern garden or the trim lawns 

 of a large city, and in less degree applies 

 to towns and villages. The caterpillar 



