have a garden at all, and some day they will say that the gardener wants your bit of sunny border for his winter lettuces, and that you had better take yourself and your weeds and your mess away to that no-man’s-land in the shrubbery, where nothing much will grow, and where it is always sad and chilly. So we will imagine that your garden is twelve feet long and seven feet wide, and that the sun shines on it whenever it is fine.

Whether your plot is a bed by itself or part of a wide border, it will not be easy and pleasant to manage unless you make a path through the centre—a dry, hard, narrow path, on which you can stand or kneel when you are at work amongst your plants. Across the breadth would be the most convenient position. To do this you should get a penny piece of tape, because it is easier to see and keep straight than string. Measure the length of your garden with it, having tied one end of the tape to a stick and put the stick firmly into one corner of the ground. Tie a knot in the tape when you reach the other corner. Then carry the knot back to the stick, and the doubled tape will mark the centre of the whole length. Put a stick into the ground there. Then you get two other sticks, and put them nine inches on either side of the centre one, so as to get your eighteen-inch path exactly measured at the top of your garden. The other side of the garden may be measured in the same way, and the centre sticks removed at either end. Then you bring your tape right along both sides of your path, tying it to your sticks at each end, so that you have two straight lines to guide you. If you are going to make your path yourself, you must now take your spade and dig out all the earth to the depth of ten inches. This will be hard work, and take you several days, but if you want your path to be dry and firm it must be done. The earth you throw out should be divided as evenly as possible between your two beds, and be neatly spread on them when you have finished. The deep trench you make by digging must be filled with broken stones or pieces of brick well stamped down, and afterwards covered with gravel or fine stones. Now you will have two borders, each seven feet long and five feet three inches wide. If you choose you can make one side a flower garden and the other side a kitchen garden, and in your kitchen garden you can grow some flowers as well as vegetables. In any case, you will be glad of your path, and if your plot is smaller than the one we recommend, you should make it on one side instead of in the middle. As far as possible, you should do all your gardening from it, so that the soil around the plants does not get trodden down too hard. Most plants like to have a firm hold with their roots, but not to have a caked surface that keeps out the air and rain.

Before you put in any plants you must pay some attention to the state of your soil. Even grown-ups often seem to think that earth is earth, and that any flowers will nourish in any ground. But, as a matter of fact, plants are even more various and dainty about their food than human beings; they answer as well to clever treatment, and they look as starved as slum children when they are not properly fed. Gardeners usually tell you that nearly everything will nourish in a good loam, and that it may be either natural or the result of cultivation. Soil of this kind is a mixture of clay, sand, and humus, and is easily worked. In or near London you generally get abominable soil in your garden, because the builders have dug out the good stuff and replaced it with any kind of rubbish. Everyone knows the London mixture of black, sticky clay, broken bricks and bottles, and the roots of grimy trees and shrubs. Many things will no more thrive in such a medium than a baby would on lobster salad. If you have to begin your gardening career with a builder’s rubbish-heap, you must be content to grow some of the strongest things, such as Starworts, Foxgloves, Nasturtiums, and some bulbs, and to renew them every year.

Roughly speaking, soils may be divided into heavy and light—those that hold wet and those that do not. The heavy kinds are mostly clay, though pure peat retains a great deal of moisture. The light soils are gravel, limestone, and sand. If you are used to a heavy clay soil, you will envy the people who have a light sandy one; and then some day when you come to work a hungry, sandy garden, you will wish for some of the sticky soil that is not easy to handle, but which many plants love. In either case you must try to improve matters, and to do this you must first find out what your soil is. In a limestone country you need not add lime, but it would be good for clay. In Holland pure sand has been made fertile by the addition of cow manure.

It is often said that the gardener’s year begins in November, because that is when you would make a new bed, or feed and alter an old one. If you make a bed well one autumn and grow things that like to be left alone, you would obviously not make it all over again the next. You would ‘mulch’ any part of it that required food or protection—i.e., you would supply a top dressing, a winter blanket of manure that would both keep things warm, and, with the help of the air and rain, send them food. When the spring comes, these top dressings look untidy, and they are either lightly and carefully forked in or taken away. By that time they are chiefly straw. When you are making a new bed, or reorganizing an old one completely, you cover the soil three inches thick with manure, make trenches, and take care that it is all buried at least ten inches deep, because very few plants like to come into contact with it when it is first put into the ground. It is an operation that you cannot manage at all for yourself if you are a girl. You must get a gardener or an elder brother to do it for you. If you tried digging in manure, your nurse would say to you what the nurse in Leech’s old picture said to the child who stirred her tea with the snuffers: ‘Miss Mary, you are not to stir your tea with the snuffers. It is not at all ladylike, and I am sure your papa would not approve of it.’

THE TIDY GARDENER.

The manure used should not be quite fresh, or it will make the earth ‘sick,’ as gardeners say, and kill your delicate plants and seedlings. After it has been dug in, the winter frosts and rains do a great deal to ripen it, and in the spring, when you plant, your flowers will be vigorous and plentiful, because they will find the food they need ready for them. But if you live in a town you may not be able to get farm manure easily, and then you would find a chemical one useful. Clay’s Fertilizer is a well-known manure, and so is Shefa, but many people have killed their plants by using too much of them. A tablespoonful to the square yard is enough, and it should be scattered evenly over the surface before it is dug in. There are many other chemical manures, but it is not necessary for you to know much about them yet. If your grown-ups understand them, they will provide you with what your soil needs; and if they do not, you can get on very well with the manures described here. Do not use chemical manures if you have a damp, heavy soil. In any garden it is a good plan to collect all the rubbish you can—old rags and toys, for instance, dry dead leaves, and small dry sticks—for a bonfire. The ashes left provide a food that all plants like, and they should never be wasted, but dug into the soil. In the country soot is