"I've always wanted a garden like my grandmother Heath used to
have. I remember it very well, though I was only nine when she died.
There were cherry-trees and fig-trees in it, and a big arbor covered
with scuppernong grape-vines, and wonderful strawberries in one corner.
All of her flowers were the old-fashioned kind. There was a beautiful
yellow rose that grew all over the fence which separated the flowers
from the vegetables, and close to the wood-house was a big moss-rose
bush. There were Micrafella roses, too. I loved them best, and
Jacqueminots, and tea-roses, and--"
"Did she have princess-feather in hers, and candytuft, and
sweet-williams?" Lillie turned over on her side, her hand under her
cheek, and in her eyes a quick, eager glow. "In mother's garden were
all sorts of old-fashioned flowers also. We lived two miles from town
and father sold vegetables and chickens to the market-men, who sold
them to their customers. But he never had as good luck with his
vegetables as mother had with her flowers. She loved them so. There
was a big mock-orange bush right by the well.
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