Aunt Sarah, speaking one day to Mary, said: "Your Uncle John is an unusually silent man. I have heard him remark that when people talk continuously they are either _very_ intelligent or tell untruths." He, happening to overhear her remark, quickly retorted: "The man who speaks a dozen tongues, When all is said and done, Don't hold a match to him who knows How to keep still in one." When annoyed at his wife's talkativeness, her one fault in her husband's eyes, if he thought she had a fault, he had a way of saying, "Alright, Sarah, Alright," as much as to say "that is final; you have said enough," in his peculiar, quick manner of speaking, which Aunt Sarah never resented, he being invariably kind and considerate in other respects. John Landis was a successful farmer because he loved his work, and found joy in it. While not unmindful of the advantages possessed by the educated farmer of the present day, he said, "'Tis not college lore our boys need so much as practical education to develop their efficiency. While much that we eat and wear comes out of the ground, we should have more farmers, the only way to lower the present high cost of living, which is such a perplexing problem to the housewife. There is almost no limit to what might be accomplished by some of our bright boys should they make agriculture a study. Luther Burbank says, 'To add but one kernel of corn to each ear grown in this country in a single year would increase the supply five million bushels.'" CHAPTER V. THE OLD FARM HOUSE AND GARDEN. The old unpainted farm house, built of logs a century ago, had changed in the passing years to a grayish tint. An addition had been built to the house several years before Aunt Sarah's occupancy, The sober hue of the house harmonized with the great, gnarled old trunk of the meadow willow near-by. Planted when the house was built, it spread its great branches protectingly over it. A wild clematis growing at the foot of the tree twined its tendrils around the massive trunk until in late summer they had become an inseparable part of it, almost covering it with feathery blossoms. [Illustration: Old Corn Crib] [Illustration: The New Barn] Near by stood an antique arbor, covered with thickly-clustering vines, in season bending with the weight of "wild-scented" grapes, their fragrance mingling with the odor of "Creek Mint" growing near by a small streamlet and filling the air with a delicious fragrance. The mint had been used in earlier years by Aunt Sarah's grandfather as a beverage which he preferred to any other. From a vine clambering up the grape arbor trellies, in the fall of the year, hung numerous orange-colored balsam apples, which opened, when ripe, disclosing bright crimson interior and seeds. These apples, Aunt Sarah claimed, if placed in alcohol and applied externally, possessed great medicinal value as a specific for rheumatism. [Illustration: THE OLD FARM HOUSE]