Ladybirds or Ladybugs
The Ladybird is a little beetle about a third of an inch long. There are many species of ladybirds; they all are of the same general shape, somewhat like a split pea, but much smaller. They are usually of brilliant shiny colors with spots of contrasting colors: sometimes red with black spots; sometimes black with red or yellow spots, sometimes yellow with black spots. The young or larvæ of the ladybird are not in the least like their mothers. They are little black, rough, worm-like creatures with six legs, having reddish-yellow or rusty spots on their backs. Both the young and the parents are very helpful to the garden because they eat harmful insects—scale insects and aphids or green plant lice.
One species of ladybird which the California fruit growers brought from Australia has been the means of exterminating a scale insect very injurious to the orange and lemon trees of the Western coast. The larva of the ladybird turns into a hard encased pupa, and later into a full-grown ladybird insect.
“My,” exclaimed Mary Frances, “another garden friend! Why, Billy, one is never alone in the garden. There are always lots of friends about.”
“And enemies too,” said Billy. “Some time I’ll tell you about one of the silliest of enemies, which Professor Weed called an ‘animated honey drop’ or aphis.”
“Tell me now, Billy? Oh, do tell me now!”
“Not much! Not much! Some other time, Mary Frances. Do you think I’m an animated encyclopedia—always ready to deal out information, or do you think—? Oh, so long!”
Before Mary Frances could answer, Billy had disappeared.
[CHAPTER XXVII]
Curly Dock
“JUST in the nick of time,” said Billy as Mary Frances came racing with Eleanor around the front of the house. “Why, hello! who’s here? Excuse me, Eleanor, I didn’t know you were to arrive until this afternoon,” shaking hands with Mary Frances’ “best girl friend.”
“She wasn’t expected until afternoon,” explained Mary Frances, “but some friends of her father’s were coming this way in their car, so she’s here quite early. Oh, I’m so glad!” as she kissed Eleanor again.
“I wish we’d never moved away, Mary Frances,” said Eleanor, returning her embrace.
“You said I was just in the nick of time, Billy,” Mary Frances suddenly exclaimed. “Why, so is Eleanor. We can share the secret with her!”
“Another of Mary Frances’ secrets!” cried Eleanor. “Please tell me about it!”
“Oh, Mary Frances makes so much out of nothing,” said Billy. “It’s simply this: we’re planting a garden, and don’t want the folks to know it.”
“That isn’t all, Eleanor,” said Mary Frances, “Billy is teaching me how to garden. He took a course in gardening last year, and he explains to me everything his professors taught him.”
“Jiminy!” exclaimed Billy. “Everything! Well, not much! I’m trying to tell her just a little bit of what they tried to teach us fellows. By the way, doesn’t Bob garden?”
Eleanor began to giggle. The children looked at her in surprise. Finally she answered: “Such gardening! Believe me—no garden can raise a crop of weeds equal to his. I must tell you what I was laughing at. Early in the Spring Bob planted in a box some seed one of the boys had given him, and Father allowed him to put it in the sunniest window. He watered and tended it, and finally set the little plants out. The fellows told him that he’d be surprised at the wonderful plants he’d get; that he could have them served as ‘greens’ for our dinner.”
“What were they?” interrupted Mary Frances.
“Hush!” exclaimed Billy, who was much interested. “Eleanor will come to that soon.”
“Well, the plants certainly did grow! They grew large, broad leaves, quite curly, but no one seemed to know what they were. One day Bob asked the farmer who sold us potatoes to look at his garden, and I’ll never, never forget how that man laughed. He roared; he shook; he doubled up with laughter. He struck his knee with his hand, and tried to speak, but no words would come. Bob looked on at first with amazement, and then with anger, finally with disgust.
“‘If you wouldn’t mind telling the joke,’ he said, ‘we might share in the fun.’
“In a few moments the farmer spoke: ‘Well, sir,’ he said, ‘that’s the finest crop of curly dock weed I ever seen!’ and he began to laugh again.”
“My, I bet Bob was ‘sore’!” laughed Billy.
“Yes, he was, but that wasn’t the best of the joke,” Eleanor went on.
“‘I’ll serve a mess of it to those fellows!’ he cried. ‘And Dick Willoughby’s got to eat the most—even if I’m compelled to have the doctor there to keep him from being poisoned.’
“‘That would be a treat,’ the farmer said. ‘Curly dock makes one of the best “greens” in the Spring. Just boil the leaves until tender, and serve like spinach. Only, young feller, next time you want a mess, just come over and weed out my meadow. Don’t you take up your time and your pa’s land a-cultivating what grows wild and can be had without the asking.’”
[CHAPTER XXVIII]
The Stupid Honey Drops—Aphids
BILLY and Mary Frances enjoyed Eleanor’s story very much, and laughed heartily over Bob’s discomfort.
“Well, Eleanor,” said Mary Frances, “you’ll be able to teach Bob a lot about gardening if Billy will let you share the lessons he’s been giving me. By the way, Billy, what did you mean by ‘just in the nick of time’?”
“Nothing much,” replied Billy, “only I wanted to show you some of the ‘animated drops of honey’ about which I spoke.”
“Oh, where are they?” cried Mary Frances.
“What in the world do you mean, Billy?” Eleanor exclaimed.
“Follow me if you want to know,” commanded Billy, leading the way to one of his mother’s rose bushes.
He lifted a long new branch.
“How funny the tip looks!” exclaimed the girls. “All bristling, like a burr.”
“Look more closely,” said Billy.
“Oh, Billy,” laughed Mary Frances. “Billy, it’s not a green burr at all! It looks that way because of thousands of those little tiny green plant lice!”
“Yes,” acknowledged Billy, “nothing but aphids. I’ll now try to repeat a little of our lesson on—