"Let's! We'll dig it up this fall, and put it over on the south side of the house, in that sunny open place." When October came, we took Aunt Deborah's phlox and transplanted it to where it could get the sunshine it had been starving for all those years. I sat on a stump and watched Jonathan digging the holes. "You don't suppose Henry will cut them down for weeds when they come up, do you?" I said. "Seems probable," said Jonathan. "You might stick in a few bulbs that'll come up early and mark the spot." "Oh, yes. And we could put a line of sweet alyssum along each side, to last along after the bulbs are over." "You can do that in the spring if you want to. I'll bring up some bulbs to-morrow." * * * * * The winter passed and the spring came--sweet, tormenting. "Jonathan," I said at luncheon one day, "I got the sweet alyssum seed this morning. "Sweet alyssum?" He looked blank. "What do you want sweet alyssum for? It's a foolish flower. I thought you weren't going to have a garden, anyway." "I'm not; but don't you remember about the phlox? We said we'd put in some sweet alyssum to mark it--so it wouldn't get cut down." "The bulbs will do that, and when they're gone it will be high enough to show." "Well, I have the seed, and I might as well use it. It won't do any harm." "No. I don't believe sweet alyssum ever hurt anybody," said Jonathan. That evening when he came in I met him in the hall. I had the florist's catalogue in my hand. "Jonathan, it says English daisies are good for borders." "Borders! What do you want of borders?" "Why, up on the farm--the phlox, you know." "Oh, the phlox. I thought you had sweet alyssum for a border." He took off his coat and I drew him into the study. "Why, yes, but that was such a little package. I don't believe there would be enough. And I thought I could try the English daisies, too, and if one didn't do well perhaps the other would. And look what it says-- No, never mind the newspaper yet--there isn't any news--just look at this about pansies." "Pansies! You don't want _them_ for a border!" "Why, no, not exactly. But, you see, the phlox won't blossom till late August, and it says that if you plant this kind of pansies very early, they blossom in June, and then if you cover them they live over and blossom again the next May. And pansies are so lovely! Look at that picture! Don't you love those French-blue ones?" "I like pansies. I don't know about the nationalities," said Jonathan. "Of course, if you want to bother with them, go ahead." He picked up his paper. "Oh, it won't be any bother. They take care of themselves. Please, your pencil-- I'm going to mark the colors I want."