HOUSE AND GARDEN 
m 
keeping plans. We found the most fascinating little rabbits 
in the blossoms of the bleeding heart when it was pulled 
apart, and the berries we just had to have for our salad, 
when we kept house under the apple trees. We had our 
favorite flowers, of course, and most of these grew in our 
yard—the one behind the lattice fence. Yes, the sweet briar 
rose grew there, and Grandmother loved it dearly. I sup¬ 
pose that was why it grew near the window where she 
always sat, with her sewing. The little, south wind bore 
its fragrance in to her, and perhaps a message from Grand¬ 
father, for he planted the bush 
there and was “partial to it,” r— 
he used to say. On Sundays, 
when he went down the side 
steps on his way to church, he 
always stopped to pick a sprig 
of the sweet briar to take with 
him. As he fingered the leaves 
in church, I used to wonder if 
he were saying his prayers 
with them, as Martha did with 
the beads on her rosary. 
Such beautiful things grew 
in the “back yard”! There 
were larkspurs in pink and lav¬ 
ender, the little, old-fashioned 
annual larkspur that to my 
mind is still more desirable 
than the tall, cultivated kinds. 
There were rows of stately 
hollyhocks, mullein pinks with 
flowers of such wonderful 
color; the Star of Bethlehem 
or Johnny-go-to-bed, as we 
sometimes called it; Canter¬ 
bury bells and foxgloves, the 
dear, little Johnny-jump-ups, 
or ladies’ delight, and the 
lilacs. 
A great mountain ash tree 
grew here. Its berries strung 
together made lovely neck¬ 
laces for us. The birds loved 
this tree, especially the cedar 
wax wings, tidy, polite, little 
things. Then, too, there were 
sunflowers, where the 
goldfinches feasted in the 
fall. A beautiful trumpet 
vine grew up over the 
side of the house. We 
often watched the hum¬ 
ming birds as they came 
to the red trumpets on 
the vine and ate their 
fill, and we wondered, as 
the cuckoos flew to the 
bitternut tree, how they 
knew that the tent cater¬ 
pillars were there doing 
harm. 
A great syringa bush 
grew higher than the 
second-storv 'windows of 
One of the garden paths led to the street; old-fashioned flowers fringed 
it; and there was a curve midway down that almost hid the gate 
from view 
Every season was interesting in that old garden. Even in winter would be found the 
Christmas rose down by the shelter of the gate 
the house. This bush was a home for birds through all sea¬ 
sons. Grandmother used to say that most of the birds in 
migration time flew to its protecting branches, registered 
and rested and then went on their pilgrimages. The wood 
thrush and cuckoo would come to the bush and rest for 
hours, evidently tired and exhausted after long flights. 
Two little, round beds in Grandmother’s garden were our 
especial delight. They were made originally for Grand¬ 
mother’s own girls, but were claimed by us as we grew up. 
We planted and cared for them, and wonderful indeed were 
the results. Occasionally 
Grandmother would take a 
hand in managing them. I re¬ 
member a beautiful border of 
June pinks that grew around 
one bed. The other had a row 
of love-in-the-mist. Grand¬ 
mother called it Lady-in¬ 
green. Sweet William and 
wall flowers grew near; co¬ 
lumbine and veronica; and, 
peeping through the fence, 
were the sturdy flowers of the 
bouncing Bet. 
Around the well grew the 
pretty, little, low flower-de- 
luce, the yellow buttons and 
the striped grass. I intuitive¬ 
ly put my hands to my ears 
when I see the striped grass. 
Never shall I forget the dread¬ 
ful squeaks and shrieks that 
were made with it. 
We felt that the bitternut 
tree really belonged to us, for 
we spent many, many happy 
hours in its shade, and its 
fruit was a never-ending 
source of pleasure. I wonder 
if little girls nowadays know 
the fascination and charm of 
the pig-nut doll! When the 
nut was shelled the little, 
pointed end made such a love- 
lv nose, and, with a pencil or 
nail, we easily made holes or 
marks for eyes and 
mouth. Then, with two 
sticks or matches for 
legs that were thrust in¬ 
to the head of the un¬ 
fortunate doll, we had a 
wonderful result. Mar¬ 
velous dresses were 
made and caps and bon¬ 
nets such as never were 
seen or heard of. As I 
think of it now, it seems 
as if all of our good 
times were in this gar¬ 
den, and everything that 
grew or blossomed 
seemed to lend itself to 
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