t of
moral perversity in the plant, which makes it grow the more, the more
it is interfered with. I am satisfied of that. I doubt if any one has
raised more "pusley" this year than I have; and my warfare with it has
been continual. Neither of us has slept much. If you combat it, it will
grow, to use an expression that will be understood by many, like the
devil. I have a neighbor, a good Christian man, benevolent, and a person
of good judgment. He planted next to me an acre of turnips recently.
A few days after, he went to look at his crop; and he found the entire
ground covered with a thick and luxurious carpet of "pusley," with a
turnip-top worked in here and there as an ornament. I have seldom seen
so thrifty a field. I advised my neighbor next time to sow "pusley" and
then he might get a few turnips. I wish there was more demand in our
city markets for "pusley" as a salad. I can recommend it.

It does not take a great man to soon discover that, in raising anything,
the greater part of the plants goes into stalk and leaf, and the fruit
is a most inconsiderable portion. I plant and hoe a hill of corn: it
grows green and stout, and waves its broad leaves high in the air, and
is months in perfecting itself, and then yields us not enough for a
dinner. It grows because it delights to do so,--to take the juices out
of my ground, to absorb my fertilizers, to wax luxuriant, and disport
itself in the summer air, and with very little thought of making any
return to me. I might go all through my garden and fruit trees with a
similar result. I have heard of places where there was very little
land to the acre. It is universally true that there is a great deal of
vegetable show and fuss for the result produced. I do not complain of
this. One cannot expect vegetables to be better than men: and they make
a great deal of ostentatious splurge; and many of them come to no result
at last. Usually, the more show of leaf and wood, the less fruit. This
melancholy reflection is thrown in here in order to make dog-days seem
cheerful in comparison.

One of the minor pleasures of life is that of controlling vegetable
activity and aggressions with the pruning-knife. Vigorous and rapid
growth is, however, a necessity to the sport. To prune feeble plants and
shrubs is like acting the part of dry-nurse to a sickly orphan. You must
feel the blood of Nature bound under your hand, and get the thrill of
its life in your nerves. To control and culture