THE BACK-YARD GARDEN 



can't stop every time she'd like to to run out to 

 the front-yard garden. So I began to plant 

 hardy things here, and I've kept on ever since, 

 till I've quite a collection, as you see. Just odds 

 and ends of the plants that seem most like folks, 

 you know. It doesn't amount to much as a gar- 

 den, I suppose most folks would think, but you've 

 no idea of the pleasure I get out of it. Some- 

 times when I get all fagged out over housework 

 I go out and pull weeds in it, and hoe a little, 

 and train up the vines, and the first I know I'm 

 ready to go back to work, with the tired feeling 

 all gone. And do you know — ^the plants seem to 

 enjoy it as much as I do? They seem to grow 

 better here than I could ever coax them to do 

 in the front yard. But that's probably because 

 they get the slops from the kitchen, and the soap- 

 suds, every wash-day. It doesn't seem as if I 

 worked among them at all. It's just play. The 

 fresh air of outdoors does me more good, I'm 

 sure, than all the doctors' tonics. And I'm not 

 the only one in the family that enjoys them. 

 The children take a good deal of pride in 

 'mother's garden,' and my husband took time, 

 one day, in the busiest part of the season, to 

 put up that frame by the door, to train Morning 

 Glories over." 



281 



