on the priceless value of the Live Bird.



31



indeed, by injuring the leaves of the plants, do more harm than good.

There is only one remedy in the circumstances—hand-picking. But

it is not a bit of fun, day after day, for half-hours at a stretch some

two or three times a day, rain or shine, examining leaf after leaf and

bud after bud; and there is no visible end to the loathsome work.

For even the very buds are attacked immediately they appear, and

are ruined before they open into flower. And this summer I have

had a new experience that has aggravated me exceedingly. Hitherto

I had found that the enemy did not attack fuchsias, so, last year, I

increased the number, tended them carefully through the winter, and,

this summer, placed a selection of them (in pots) all round the

dining-room window, outside, on the sill. One of them is a fine

specimen, which, last year, in the same spot, was a mass of bloom.

But woe is me, for this year they have been freely attacked ; and the

pride of my heart now looks more like a cairn on the top of a Trans-

Himalayan pass, stuck full of Tibetan prayer-poles and streamers,

than a respectable, well-brought-up, British-grown fuchsia.


The gardener in the country will not understand this; he

will attribute it to incompetency, stupidity, feebleness, he would

soon put matters straight if the place were in his hands, and so on;

and, with an air of superiority, he will look with self-complacency on

his own beautiful garden. But could he manage one whit the better

if he were here? Just let him try, single-handed, without his allies

the Live Birds ! He is simply ignorant of the fact that his own

garden is in good trim, not through his own exertions alone but

because he has the Live Birds to keep the army of caterpillars and

other undesirables at bay.


The man in the country is thrice blessed. He has the seed-

eaters which, feeding their young largely on insects, during the

breeding-season at any rate are of real value. Then, the whole year

round, there are certain residents and some winter immigrants which

devour insects in any form or at any stage they may be able to find

them. And, during the summer, when insect-life is most abundant,

he has the Swallow family, ceaselessly hawking after winged creatures,

the summer Warblers, the Flycatchers, the Cuckoo, and many other

Live Birds that stand between him and the destruction of his woods,

his crops, his orchards and his gardens.



