"Aunt Sarah," said Mary later, "Frau Schmidt tells me the Professor sends his rye to the mill and requests that every part of it be ground without separating--making what he calls 'whole rye flour,' and from this Frau Schmidt bakes wholesome, nutritious bread which they call 'pumpernickel,' She tells me she uses about one-third of this 'whole rye flour' to two-thirds white bread flour when baking bread, and she considers bread made from this whole grain more wholesome and nutritious than the bread made from our fine rye flour." CHAPTER IV. JOHN LANDIS. The Bucks County farmer, John Landis, rather more scholarly in appearance than men ordinarily found in agricultural districts, was possessed of an adust complexion, caused by constant exposure to wind and weather; tall and spare, without an ounce of superfluous fat; energetic, and possessed of remarkable powers of endurance. He had a kindly, benevolent expression; his otherwise plain face was redeemed by fine, expressive brown eyes. Usually silent and preoccupied, and almost taciturn, yet he possessed a fund of dry humor. An old-fashioned Democrat, his wife was a Republican. He usually accompanied Aunt Sarah to her church, the Methodist, although he was a member of the German Reformed, and declared he had changed his religion to please her, but change his politics, never. A member of the Masonic Lodge, his only diversion was an occasional trip to the city with a party of the "boys" to attend a meeting of the "Shriners." Aunt Sarah protested. "The idea, John, at your age, being out so late at night and returning from the city on the early milk train the following morning, and then being still several miles from home. It's scandalous!" He only chuckled to himself; and what the entertainment had been, which was provided at Lulu Temple, and which he had so thoroughly enjoyed, was left to her imagination. His only remark when questioned was: "Sarah, you're not in it. You are not a 'Shriner.'" And as John had in every other particular fulfilled her ideal of what constitutes a good husband, Sarah, like the wise woman she was, allowed the subject to drop. A good, practical, progressive farmer, John Landis constantly read, studied and pondered over the problem of how to produce the largest results at least cost of time and labor. His crops were skillfully planted in rich soil, carefully cultivated and usually harvested earlier than those of his neighbors. One summer he raised potatoes so large that many of them weighed one pound each, and new potatoes and green peas, fresh from the garden, invariably appeared on Aunt Sarah's table the first of July, and sometimes earlier. I have known him to raise cornstalks which reached a height of thirteen feet, which were almost equaled by his wife's sunflower stalks, which usually averaged nine feet in height.