SEED BABIES AND THEIR NURSES
“FIRST of all, we must understand that the seed has a coat which holds
the living, sleeping baby. You see, the baby itself is so tiny and
delicate that it would not be safe for it to be out without its seed
coat. The wind and the sun would soon dry it up and kill it; then, too,
it would die of hunger, for it is too little to find its own food. So
its mother wraps the baby up in its strong seed coat, and puts its food
in beside it, in the same coat. And there the seed baby lies sound
asleep until—until everything is just right for it to wake up. The time
it likes best to awaken is in Spring, when the weather is getting warm.
SEED BABIES IN THEIR COATS
You will put your seed babies, coats and all, into the
warm ground early in the Spring, when they will feel
like growing. Then you will dampen them, for without
moisture and food, the seed baby will not wake up. The
moisture swells the seed coat, and wakens the baby, and
gets the food ready for the baby to eat.
The baby begins to eat the food its mother put inside
the seed coat; it stretches itself, and pretty soon
sends down into the earth a “teeny-weeny” rootlet. This
rootlet takes a little food from the earth up to the
baby. Oh, yes, plant soup, that is the kind of food it
takes. Plant soup is mixed earth and water.
How good it is for the plant child, depends on how
sweet the soil is, and how much humus or compost
or manure food is in the soup. Humus soup tastes
wonderfully good to the baby plant.
COTYLEDONS
Well, not only does the baby plant send down this tiny
rootlet, but its tiny stem grows upward, and bursts
through the seed coats and show two tiny leaves.
The two tiny leaves which appear on top of this stem,
while down in the soil grew larger, threw open the
seed coat, and came up to the surface for the air and
sunshine.
These leaves are called the seed-leaves, or
cŏt-ŷ-lē´-dŏns. They are not the true leaves of the
plant baby, but are nurse-leaves which go ahead of the
leaves of the baby plant, and really hold the true leaf
of the baby between them.
These nurse-leaves take care of and feed the tiny plant
baby until it can send out its own tiny leaves to
gather air and digest food for itself.
If you pull up a Lima Bean Seed Baby after it has
started to grow you will see the nurse-leaves.
No plant should be moved or transplanted until at least
two true leaves, or leaves of its own, not nurse-leaves
(cotyledons), have appeared.
Of course, when the little plants first come up there
will be so many that each will choke the other, and so
we must learn about—
THINNING OUT THE PLANTS
When the little plants are about two inches high, pull
up all the weak plants, leaving the stronger ones from
one to six inches apart, according to the kind of
plants.
The little plants will need moisture, too—not just
“watering,” but the moisture which lies far beneath
the surface, and which can only be had by keeping the
surface soil in good condition, so as when the plants
grow one of the most important things we have to learn
to do is—
TO CULTIVATE
“Cultivating” means breaking up the soil where it
hardens about the plant. _It is the most important part
of gardening_ after planting, except “thinning out.”
Cultivating is done by use of the hoe and “cultivator,”
the rake-like tool which has but few prongs. Draw the
cultivator between the rows of plants every day or two.
Use the hoe in smaller spaces. Use the hoe to chop down
weeds below the surface of the ground, being careful
not to cut into the roots of the garden plants.
In breaking up the hard soil, or “cultivating,” the
weeds are destroyed, but hard soil is a worse enemy
of plant babies than weeds even, although every child
knows how dreadful it is for a garden to let weeds
steal all the food from the baby plants.
{ air,
Baby plants need { food,
{ moisture.
Now if there is a hard crust of soil around the roots,
they cannot get the _air_; so we _cultivate_ or break
up the hard soil to give them air.
Baby plants cannot get _food_ if big strong weeds steal
it from them; so we _cultivate_ to kill the weeds.
Baby plants need _moisture_, perhaps more than anything
else, so we cultivate; for cultivating keeps in the
moisture that is down in the soil. I will explain this
in a very little while.
So you see _Cultivating_ is the most important garden
work.
WATERING
Perhaps you think watering the garden most important.
If so, you are mistaken. Yes, the garden must be
watered from time to time; but when it is watered
it should be drenched soaking wet, never sprinkled
a little every day or two. One soaking in a week
is better than a light sprinkling every day. Light
sprinkling brings the roots to the surface, where the
sun dries them up in a short time. On the other hand,
the rain or a thorough drenching soaks down, down,
down, into the earth, where it is stored up for future
use.
THE IMPORTANCE OF CULTIVATING
Now, I am going to tell you why cultivating is so
important in regard to moisture.
If the soil is all soft and fine and loose, the rain
can easily run down through it to the roots.
If it were hard, the water would run off to lower
ground. That’s easily understood.
But immediately after the rain, when the sun comes out
and the wind blows, the surface of the soil begins to
dry.
Then the sun “coaxes” and “pulls” the water up, up, up,
to the surface it has dried, something like the way you
pull the juice of an orange up through a stick of lemon
candy. Now let me ask you—could you pull much orange
juice through the stick of candy if the stick of candy
were crumbled or broken apart at the top? No, you could
not.
Neither can the sun pull the moisture up through the
tiny little tubes in the soil if we break those little
tubes and crumble the tops into dust. No, you need not
look for these tubes, Mary Frances; they are too tiny
for you to see, but they act very much like blotting
paper to bring the under moisture up to the surface,
and unless they are broken and crumbled, the deep earth
moisture goes sailing off into the air to meet the sun,
as fast as if it ran out of a little spigot running it
off, and the poor plant baby dries up for want of deep
moisture near its roots.
How shall we break these tubes (the sun’s lemon candy
stick)?
Yes, that’s right, Mary Frances!
By CULTIVATION.
* * * * *
“Jiminy! what a long lesson!” exclaimed Billy, wiping his forehead,
“What’re you going to do for me, Mary Frances, for all this wonderful
instruction?”
“I’ll give a dinner in your honor, Professor, and let you invite whom
you please.”
“On one condition,” said Billy, “that every thing we have will come out
of your garden!”
“Agreed!”
“To-morrow we begin real work and put into practice some of these
remarkable lectures,” added Billy earnestly.
“Oh, how glad I am!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “Billy, it seems too
wonderful! My, I’m glad Mother and Father sent you away to school,
though I did miss you terribly, but you learned such a lot that it
makes up for it.”
“Augh! Mary Frances, you make a fellow feel queer, I wasn’t such a
perfect little _angel_ in _school_.”
“Oh, certainly not, certainly not, Billy,” laughed Mary Frances,
“that’s the wonder of it—to think a bad boy like you could learn so
much, that’s the puzzle to me.”
“Humm!” said Billy to himself as he looked after Mary Frances’ fleeting
figure, “It’s lucky for that girl that I’m a scout.”