ver kept dogs in your home? One dog will bring in more dust and mud
and loose hairs in a day, than a colony, an empire, of cockroaches will
in a year.

It is easy enough to drive cockroaches away if you wish. Not with powder
or poison: this only arouses their obstinacy. The right way is to import
other insects that prey upon roaches. The hawk-ticks exterminate them as
readily as wimples do moles. The only thing to remember is that then you
have the hawk-ticks on hand, and they float around the ceiling, and
pounce down, and hide in your ears.

You may be sure that _some_ insects will live with you. It's only a
question which kind.

I remember Mr. Burbank once denied this when we talked of the matter.
Alluding to the fact that the cockroach likes to eat other roaches, he
said why not breed a roach that wouldn't eat anything else? When one
introduced these into the home they would first eat the old timers, and
then quietly devour each other until all were gone.

But how could a home remain bare of insects? Nature abhors such a
vacuum. Some men would like to cover the whole world with porcelain
tiles, and make old Mother Earth, as we know her, disappear from our
view. They would sterilize and scrub the whole planet, so as to make the
place sanitary. Well, I too feel that way at times: we all have finicky
moments. But in my robust hours I sympathize with Nature. A hygienic
kitchen is unnatural. It should be swarming with life. (The way mine
is.)

I see a great deal of the roach when I visit my kitchen. His habits, to
be sure, are nocturnal. But, then, so are mine. However, with a little
arranging, it is simple to prevent awkward clashes. I do not like
cockroaches on my table at supper, for instance. Very well, I merely get
me a table with carved spiral legs. The roach cannot climb up such legs.
To hump himself over them bruises him, and injures his stomach. And if
he tries to follow the spiral and goes round and round, he soon becomes
dizzy and falls with plaintive cries to the floor. He can climb up my
own legs, since they are not spiral, you say? Yes, but I rub castor oil
on them before I enter the kitchen.

The cockroach has a fascinating personality. He is not socialistic and
faithful, like the ant, for example: he is anarchistic, wild,
temperamental, and fond of adventure. He is also contemplative by
nature, like other philosophers. How many an evening, at midnight, when
I have wanted a sandwich, I have found him