In the side yard grew two great clumps of iris, or, as it is more commonly called, "Blue Flag." Its blossoms, dainty as rare orchids, with lily-like, violet-veined petals of palest-tinted mauve and purple. On the sunny side of the old farm house, facing the East, where at early morn the sun shone bright and warm, grew Aunt Sarah's pansies, with velvety, red-brown petals, golden-yellow and dark purple. They were truly "Heart's Ease," gathered with a lavish hand, and sent as gifts to friends who were ill. The more she picked the faster they multiplied, and came to many a sick bed "sweet messengers of Spring." If Aunt Sarah had a preference for one particular flower, 'twas the rose, and they well repaid the time and care she lavished on them. She had pale-tinted blush roses, with hearts of deepest pink; rockland and prairie and hundred-leaf roses, pink and crimson ramblers, but the most highly-prized roses of her collection were an exquisite, deep salmon-colored "Marquis De Sinety" and an old-fashioned pink moss rose, which grew beside a large bush of mock-orange, the creamy blossoms of the latter almost as fragrant as real orange blossoms of the sunny Southland. Not far distant, planted in a small bed by themselves, grew old-fashioned, sweet-scented, double petunias, ragged, ripple, ruffled corollas of white, with splotches of brilliant crimson and purple, their slender stems scarcely strong enough to support the heavy blossoms. In one of the sunniest spots in the old garden grew Aunt Sarah's latest acquisition. "The Butterfly Bush," probably so named on account of its graceful stems, covered with spikes of tiny, lilac-colored blossoms, over which continually hovered large, gorgeously-hued butterflies, vying with the flowers in brilliancy of color, from early June until late Summer. Aunt Sarah's sunflowers, or "Sonnen Blume," as she liked to call them, planted along the garden fence to feed chickens and birds alike, were a sight worth seeing. The birds generally confiscated the larger portion of seeds. A pretty sight it was to see a flock of wild canaries, almost covering the tops of the largest sunflowers, busily engaged picking out the rich, oily seeds. Aunt Sarah loved the golden flowers, which always appeared to be nodding to the sun, and her sunflowers were particularly fine, some being as much as fifty inches in circumference.