othing," answered Ethel Brown, seriously. Ethel Blue noted it down in
her book and Roger promised to visit the local piano man and see what he
could find.

"We haven't finished deciding how we shall plant Dorothy's yard behind
this house," Margaret reminded them.

"We shan't attempt a vegetable garden here," Dorothy said. "We'll start
one at the other place so that the soil will be in good condition next
year. We'll have a man to do the heavy work of the two places, he can
bring over every morning whatever vegetables are ready for the day's
use."

"You want more flowers in this yard, then?"

"You'll laugh at what I want!"

"Don't you forget what you promithed me," piped up Dicky.

"That's what I was going to tell them now. I've promised Dicky to plant
a lot of sunflowers for his hens. He says Roger never has had space to
plant enough for him."

"True enough. Give him a big bed of them so he can have all the seeds he
wants."

"I'd like to have a wide strip across the back of the whole place, right
in front of the osage orange hedge. They'll cover the lower part that's
rather scraggly--then everywhere else I want nasturtiums, climbing and
dwarf and every color under the sun."

"That's a good choice for your yard because it's awfully stony and
nasturtiums don't mind a little thing like that."

"Then I want gourds over the trellis at the back door."

"Gourds!"

"I saw them so much in the South that I want to try them. There's one
shape that makes a splendid dipper when it's dried and you cut a hole in
it; and there's another kind just the size of a hen's egg that I want
for nest eggs for Dickey's hens; and there's the loofa full of fibre
that you can use for a bath sponge; and there's a pear-shaped one
striped green and yellow that Mother likes for a darning ball; and
there's a sweet smelling one that is as fragrant as possible in your
handkerchief case. There are some as big as buckets and some like base
ball bats, but I don't care for those."

"What a collection," applauded Ethel Brown.

"Beside that my idea of Japanese morning glories and a hop vine for our
kitchen regions has no value at all," smiled Helen.

"I'm going to have hops wherever the vines can find a place to climb at
Sweetbrier," Dorothy determined. "I love a hop vine, and it grows on
forever."

"James and I seem to be in the same condition. If we don't start home
we'll go on talking forever," Margaret complained humorously.

"There's