poor that something worth while cannot be grown on it. If burdocks will
grow, something else will grow; or if nothing else will grow, then I
prefer burdocks to sand and rubbish.

The burdock is one of the most striking and decorative of plants, and a
good piece of it against a building or on a rough bank is just as useful
as many plants that cost money and are difficult to grow. I had a good
clump of burdock under my study window, and it was a great comfort; but
the man would persist in wanting to cut it down when he mowed the lawn.
When I remonstrated, he declared that it was nothing but burdock; but I
insisted that, so far from being burdock, it was really Lappa major,
since which time the plant and its offspring have enjoyed his utmost
respect. And I find that most of my friends reserve their appreciation
of a plant until they have learned its name and its family connections.

The dump-place that I mentioned has a surface area of nearly one hundred
and fifty square feet, and I find that it has grown over two hundred
good plants of one kind or another this year. This is more than my
gardener accomplished on an equal area, with manure and water and a man
to help. The difference was that the plants on the dump wanted to grow,
and the imported plants in the garden did not want to grow. It was the
difference between a willing horse and a balky horse. If a person wants
to show his skill, he may choose the balky plant; but if he wants fun
and comfort in gardening, he would better choose the willing one.

I have never been able to find out when the burdocks and mustard were
planted on the dump; and I am sure that they were never hoed or watered.
Nature practices a wonderfully rigid economy. For nearly half the summer
she even refused rain to the plants, but still they thrived; yet I staid
home from a vacation one summer that I might keep my plants from dying.