"Mistress Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?"

down to the busy city woman who to-day takes her recreation by digging
in her flowerbeds, gardens have seemed a natural habitat for womankind,
and garden activities have belonged to her by right.

In various parts of the country there have now been established schools
where young women may learn the ways of trees and shrubs, vegetables and
flowers, and may do experimental work among the growing things
themselves. Some of these schools are merely adjuncts of the state
agricultural colleges, with more or less limited courses of
instruction; but, just out of Philadelphia, there is a school, to which
women only are admitted, that is located on a real farm, and covers a
wide range of outdoor study.

One begins to feel the homely charm of the place the moment instructions
are given as to how to reach it.

"Out the old Lime-kiln road," you are told. And out the old Lime-kiln
road you go, until you come to a farm which spells the perfection of
care in every clump of trees and every row of vegetables. Some girls in
broad-brimmed hats are working in the Strawberry bed--if you go in
strawberry time--and farther on a group of women have gathered, with an
overalled instructor, under an apple tree the needs of which are being
studied.

Under some sedate shade trees, you are led to an old Pennsylvania stone
farmhouse--the administration building, if you please. Beyond are the