She started down the path, and Lovey Mary, somewhat overwhelmed by
this oration, followed obediently.

"These here are the Baptists," said Miss Viny, waving her hand toward
a bed of heliotrope and flags. "They want lots of water; like to be
wet clean through. They sorter set off to theyselves an' tend to their
own business; don't keer much 'bout minglin' with the other flowers."

Lovey Mary did not understand very clearly what Miss Viny was talking
about, but she was glad to follow her in the winding paths, where new
beauties were waiting at every turn.

"These is geraniums, ain't they? One of the girls had one, once, in a
flower-pot when she was sick."

"Yes," said Miss Viny; "they're Methodist. They fall from grace an'
has to be revived; they like lots of encouragement in the way of sun
an' water. These phlox are Methodist, too; no set color, easy to grow,
hardy an' vigorous. Pinchin' an' cuttin' back the shoots makes it
flower all the better; needs new soil every few years; now ain't that
Methodist down to the ground?"

"Are there any Presbyterians?" asked Lovey Mary, beginning to grasp
Miss Viny's meaning.

"Yes, indeed; they are a good, old, reliable bed. Look at all these
roses an' tiger-lilies an' dahlias; they all knew what they was goin'
to be afore they started to grow. They was elected to it, an' they'll
keep on bein' what they started out to be clean to the very end."