Your garden's friends and foes,—have you ever thought about them as such? You go to a lot of trouble to raise fine flowers and vegetables, and then, if you are not on the lookout, before you know it something has happened! Your rose leaves are discovered full of holes, and your potato vines almost destroyed; your tomato plants are being eaten up by the big, ugly "tomato worm," while your choicest flowers are dying from the inroads of green or brown insects so tiny that at first you do not notice them; and strong plants of all kinds are found cut off close to the ground. What further proof do you need that your beloved garden has its enemies?

Here indeed "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." If you would be free and escape such ravages, you can not wait until your foes are full-fledged and hard at work, because usually considerable damage has then been done. Instead, you should learn at the time you begin gardening all about the many difficulties you have to contend with, including the various things that prey upon your plants.

When you plant seed, for instance, and it fails to come up, you are apt to blame either the dealer or the weather man. Just as likely as not, though, some insect had attacked the seed before it was planted, or else the grubs got busy and enjoyed a full meal. These pests, with their various relations, are the most difficult of all to control, but poisoned bait (freshly cut clover that has been sprayed with Paris green,) scattered on the ground where cut worms come out at night to feed, will destroy many of them. When your plants have begun to grow, however, and you find them being nipped off close to the ground, dig close to the stem and you will probably bring to light a cut worm curled up in his favorite position, and you can end him then and there from doing further damage. The wire worm, on the contrary, works entirely below the surface, and when you spade up a long, slender, jointed, brownish, wriggling worm, quite hard, you will know that he is one of the kind to be immediately destroyed.

These grubs and worms are the different kind of caterpillars,—the children,—of several varieties of moths that fly by night, the shining brown beetle that bumps against the ceiling on a summer evening, and the funny "snap-bug." Crawling or flying, young or old, parent or child, they generally do their worst after dark. Equal parts of soot and lime, well mixed, scattered in a four-inch ring around each stem on the top of the soil, will keep away the things that crawl, while white hellebore (a poison that must not get on little fingers,) dusted on the plants will keep off most of the things that fly. Rose bugs, however, seem to come in a class by themselves! Apparently, they don't mind any of the well-known deterrents and about the only way to really get rid of them is to "go bugging," which means knocking them off into a cup of kerosene or a box where they can be killed.

Caterpillars, naked or hairy, eat vegetation, and are consequently most unwelcome visitors. The sowbug or pill-bug, while disagreeable to look at, is not quite so injurious as often thought, but the mite called the red spider can do a lot of damage. Most of the beetles seriously injure the vegetables. The saw-flies with their offspring, and certain kinds of ants (especially the "soldier ants") are as troublesome as the caterpillars, while the next family group, the grasshoppers, locusts, katydids and crickets are all great feeders,—the grasshoppers and locusts often becoming an actual plague and destroying whole crops. To get rid of the caterpillars and beetles various means are employed, such as spraying with Paris green, Bordeaux mixture, kerosene emulsion, or even strong suds made with whale-oil soap; and Paris green is also applied dry. A pretty good poison is bran-and-arsenic mixture, but the different liquids and powders make a story by themselves, and require great care in using; so you better consult some successful gardener-friend about the best one (and the way to use it,) for your particular foe.

Of the sucking insects,—those that draw out the juice or sap of the plant,—the aphides or "plant lice" do inestimable damage to all kinds of plants and flowers, while the chinch bug and garden tree-hopper seem to prefer to attack vegetables. The most familiar aphides are green, and they have tiny, soft, pear-shaped bodies, with long legs and "feelers." They usually live on the under side of the leaves and along the stems, and one good way to get rid of them is to spray with kerosene emulsion or tobacco water, or else sprinkle with clear water and then dust with tobacco dust.

Not all of the live things that you find about your plants and flowers are injurious, however, and you must learn to recognize those which are beneficial. The ladybug, although a beetle, lives on aphides, and so is your helper in destroying them. Several beetles, like the fiery ground beetle, subsist on cutworms, and the soldier bug dines on the destructive offspring of beetles and moths. The daddy-long-legs and the spider are also friends to your garden, together with many wasps.

As for the bees, many, many plants are dependent on them for fertilization, as the insects in their search for honey go clear down into the flowers and carry with them the necessary pollen from one blossom to another. Two stories I have heard illustrate this point. In Australia many years ago people tried to introduce clover, but they could not make it grow until some one thought of importing the bees also. The native insects did not have a proboscis long enough to reach to the bottom of the flower, so that the pollen had never been properly placed. Then, not very long ago, a farmer living near a railroad had his crop of tomatoes ruined because the railroad used soft coal, the soot of which—settling on the tomato blossoms—kept away the bees so that the flowers were not fertilized! He sued the company and recovered damages. So you see the bee is really necessary for the success of your garden.

Toads eat many of your small enemies, and should be encouraged by providing an upturned box or some cool, shady place in your garden where they can rest during the day,—for much of this "dog-eat-dog" business, sometimes termed "the law of the jungle," goes on at night.

Birds, however, wage open warfare, in broad daylight, and wherever the soil has been cultivated, in the fields or among the plants and flowers, the feathered tribe seek the very things you want destroyed. A well-known nurseryman, when the English sparrow was first introduced in this country, noticed many of the birds among his choice roses, and to satisfy himself that they were not injuring the plants, killed one of the fattest. An investigation of his little stomach showed it to be chock-full of rose slugs and aphides,—the rose's worst enemies!

The robins, of the thrush family, live almost entirely on worms and insects, and the bluebirds, orioles, tanagers and starlings, with the various songsters, should all be given a most cordial invitation to pay you a long visit. And this invitation? A place to live, if only a box nailed up on a tree, with an opening small enough to keep out intruders. A bird house more attractive in your own eyes is easily made by any boy or girl handy with a knife or a jig-saw, and really artistic houses, suited to particular birds, are described in various books and magazines, made from pieces of bark, sections of limb, or fir cones. A little study of the kind of nest each bird makes for itself may enable you to select your guests. The swallow, the cat-bird, the blackbird, the finch,—all should be welcomed: and suet tied on the branches, bread crumbs scattered around your door, grain sprinkled where you especially want them to come, will encourage the winter birds to pay you a daily visit.

A bird bath is sure to prove an irresistible attraction. I have seen my back yard full of starlings and sparrows, pushing and crowding each other to get into a little pool where the snow has melted around a clothes-pole! A shallow pan, with an inch or two of water, will often draw so many birds that it has to be filled again and again during the day. Birds suffer, too, in winter from thirst, and greatly appreciate a drinking place. A bird fountain, with its running water, is a delight for the rich; but a pretty enamelled tray, white or gray, and round, square or oval, can be bought in a department store for less than a dollar, and it can be sunk in the top of a vine-covered rockery or securely placed on a mossy stump, where it will bring both joy and birds to the smallest gardener.

So cheer up. Though your foes, as described, seem a formidable army, remember all the friends that will rally to your aid, and with reasonable watchfulness and care, you and your garden will come out victorious.