Sarah Landis loved the wholesome, earthy odors of growing plants and delighted in her flowers, particularly the perennials, which were planted promiscuously all over the yard.  I have frequently heard her quote:  “One is nearer God’s heart in a garden than any place else on earth.”  And she would say, “I love the out-of-door life, in touch with the earth; the natural life of man or woman.”  Inside the fence of the kitchen garden were planted straight rows of both red and yellow currants, and several gooseberry bushes.  In one corner of the garden, near the summer kitchen, stood a large bush of black currants, from the yellow, sweet-scented blossoms of which Aunt Sarah’s bees, those “Heaven instructed mathematicians,” sucked honey.  Think of Aunt Sarah’s buckwheat cakes, eaten with honey made from currant, clover, buckwheat and dandelion blossoms!

Her garden was second to none in Bucks County.  She planted tomato seeds in boxes and placed them in a sunny window, raising her plants early; hence she had ripe tomatoes before any one else in the neighborhood.  Her peas were earlier also, and her beets and potatoes were the largest; her corn the sweetest; and, as her asparagus bed was always well salted, her asparagus was the finest to be had.

Through the centre of the garden patch, on either side the walk, were large flower beds, a blaze of brilliant color from early Spring, when the daffodils blossomed, until frost killed the dahlias, asters, scarlet sage, sweet Williams, Canterbury bells, pink and white snapdragon, spikes of perennial, fragrant, white heliotrope; blue larkspur, four o’clocks, bachelor buttons and many other dear, old-fashioned flowers.  The dainty pink, funnel-shaped blossoms of the hardy swamp “Rose Mallow’” bloomed the entire Summer, the last flowers to be touched by frost, vying in beauty with the pink monthly roses planted near by.

Children who visited Aunt Sarah delighted in the small Jerusalem cherry tree, usually covered with bright, scarlet berries, which was planted near the veranda, and they never tired pinching the tiny leaves of the sensitive plant to see them quickly droop, as if dead, then slowly unfold and straighten as if a thing of life.

Visitors to the farm greatly admired the large, creamy-white lily-like blossoms of the datura.  Farthest from the house were the useful herb beds, filled with parsley, hoarhound, sweet marjoram, lavender, saffron, sage, sweet basil, summer savory and silver-striped rosemary or “old man,” as it was commonly called by country folk.

Tall clusters of phlox, a riot of color in midsummer, crimson-eyed, white and rose-colored blossoms topping the tall steins, and clusters of brilliant-red bergamot near by had been growing, from time immemorial, a cluster of green and white-striped grass, without which no door yard in this section of Bucks County was considered complete in olden times.  Near by, silvery plumes of pampas grass gently swayed on their reed-like stems.