f the large, round flower beds,
grew sturdy "Castor Oil Beans," their large, copper-bronze leaves
almost covering the tiny blue forget-me-nots growing beneath. Near the
flower bed grew a thrifty bush of pink-flowering almonds; not far
distant grew a spreading "shrub" bush, covered with fragrant brown
buds, and beside it a small tree of pearly-white snowdrops.

Sarah Landis loved the wholesome, earthy odors of growing plants and
delighted in her flowers, particularly the perennials, which were
planted promiscuously all over the yard. I have frequently heard her
quote: "One is nearer God's heart in a garden than any place else on
earth." And she would say, "I love the out-of-door life, in touch with
the earth; the natural life of man or woman." Inside the fence of the
kitchen garden were planted straight rows of both red and yellow
currants, and several gooseberry bushes. In one corner of the garden,
near the summer kitchen, stood a large bush of black currants, from
the yellow, sweet-scented blossoms of which Aunt Sarah's bees, those
"Heaven instructed mathematicians," sucked honey. Think of Aunt
Sarah's buckwheat cakes, eaten with honey made from currant, clover,
buckwheat and dandelion blossoms!

Her garden was second to none in Bucks County. She planted tomato
seeds in boxes and placed them in a sunny window, raising her plants
early; hence she had ripe tomatoes before any one else in the
neighborhood. Her peas were earlier also, and her beets and potatoes
were the largest; her corn the sweetest; and, as her asparagus bed was
always well salted, her asparagus was the finest to be had.

Through the centre of the garden patch, on either side the walk, were
large flower beds, a blaze of brilliant color from early Spring, when
the daffodils blossomed, until frost killed the dahlias, asters,
scarlet sage, sweet Williams, Canterbury bells, pink and white
snapdragon, spikes of perennial, fragrant, white heliotrope; blue
larkspur, four o'clocks, bachelor buttons and many other dear,
old-fashioned flowers. The dainty pink, funnel-shaped blossoms of the
hardy swamp "Rose Mallow'" bloomed the entire Summer, the last flowers
to be touched by frost, vying in beauty with the pink monthly roses
planted near by.

Children who visited Aunt Sarah delighted in the small Jerusalem
cherry tree, usually covered with bright, scarlet berries, which was
planted near the veranda, and they never tired pinching the tiny
leaves of the sensit