ed a rake, and contrived to keep
him company in turning up the weeds to the sun, the more effectually to
kill them.

Now I had never been able to learn the botanical names of any of these
pests of the garden, nor whether any of them were useful to man, nor how
it was that the earth was so crowded with them. Neither did I know the
annuals from the perennials, nor why one variety was invariably found
flourishing in moist ground, while another preferred a drier situation.
If I had had a desire to learn these interesting particulars of things
that were my daily acquaintances, I had neither books to consult nor
time to devote to them.

But it was evident from Mr. Logan's conversation that he was not only a
horticulturist, but an accomplished botanist. Both my mother and myself
were surprised at the new light which he threw upon the subject. I was
tugging with my fingers at a great dandelion which had come up directly
between two strawberry-plants, trying to pull it up, when its brittle
leaves broke off in my hand, leaving the root in the ground. Mr. Logan,
seeing the operation, observed,--

"No use in cutting it off; the root must come out, or it will grow
thicker and stronger, and plague you every season"; and plying the
corner of his hoe all round the neck of the dandelion, so as to loosen
the earth a considerable depth, he thrust his fingers down, seized the
root, and drew forth a thick white fibre at least a foot long.

"That fellow must be three years old," said he, holding it up for me to
examine. "Very likely you have cut off the top every season, supposing
you were killing it. But the dandelion can be exterminated only by
destroying the root.

"Then," he continued, "there is the dock, more prolific of seeds than
the dandelion, and the red-sorrel, worse than either, because its roots
travel under ground in all directions, throwing up suckers at every
inch, while its tops are hung with myriads of seeds,--the hoe will never
exterminate these pests. You must get rid of the roots; throw them out
to such a sun as this, and then you may hope to be somewhat clear of
them."

All this was entirely new to me, as well as the botanical names, with
which he seemed to be as familiar as with the alphabet. I had often
wondered how it was that the dandelions in our garden never diminished
in number, though not one had usually been allowed to go to seed. I now
saw, that, instead of destroying the plant itself, we had only been