The garden, curiously enough, was a quarter of a mile from the house, and the way to it led up a shallow draw past the cattle corral.
I sat down in the middle of the garden, where snakes could scarcely approach unseen, and leaned my back against a warm yellow pumpkin.
As we rode up the draw, we skirted a big melon patch, and a garden where squashes and yellow cucumbers lay about on the sod.
After he had shown us his garden, Peter trundled a load of watermelons up the hill in his wheelbarrow.
That day the floor was covered with garden things, drying for winter; corn and beans and fat yellow cucumbers.
I had seen ice on the little horsepond that morning, and as we went through the garden we found the tall asparagus, with its red berries, lying on the ground, a mass of slimy green.
If they could get through until spring came, they would buy a cow and chickens and plant a garden, and would then do very well.
Each morning, while the dew was still on the grass, Antonia went with me up to the garden to get early vegetables for dinner.
Grandmother made her wear a sunbonnet, but as soon as we reached the garden she threw it on the grass and let her hair fly in the breeze.
Harling made garden that spring, we could feel the stir of her undertaking through the willow hedge that separated our place from hers.
Harling and Tony break the ground and plant the garden, dig around the orchard trees, tie up vines and clip the hedges.
The four Danish girls lived with the laundryman and his wife in their house behind the laundry, with a big garden where the clothes were hung out to dry.
The clouds of white dust that blew up the street, the gusts of hot wind that withered his vegetable garden, never disturbed his calm.
Harling, our nearest neighbour, kept an eye on me, and if my behaviour went beyond certain bounds I was not permitted to come into her yard or to play with her jolly children.
It was a crisp autumn evening, just cold enough to make one glad to quit playing tag in the yard, and retreat into the kitchen.
The wind that sweeps in from the open country strips away all the leafy screens that hide one yard from another in summer, and the houses seem to draw closer together.
Young farmers who were in town for Saturday came tramping through the yard to the back door to engage dances, or to invite Tony to parties and picnics.
He was so fastidious and prim about his place that a boy would go to a good deal of trouble to throw a dead cat into his back yard, or to dump a sackful of tin cans in his alley.
I waited until all was quiet and the old people were asleep, then raised my window, climbed out, and went softly through the yard.
Then I made a dive for the open window, struck the wire screen, knocked it out, and tumbled after it into the yard.
The rest of the morning I spent with Anton Jelinek, under a shady cottonwood tree in the yard behind his saloon.