244 HOW TO MAKE A COUNTRY PLACE 



The "boneyard" of a terra cotta factory was found a good place 

 in which to buy ornaments for lawn and porch room. A miniature 

 temple, a stone god, a bronze dragon from Japan and a sun dial from 

 "Olde England" with quaintly phrased and oddly spelled motto had 

 appropriate setting 'mid shrubbery, on lawn, and in the plaisance of 

 the garden. 



The Maze. 



Remembering an exasperating two hours spent once in trying 

 to find my way out of the maze at Hampton Court, I essayed to 

 drag my fellows into a like predicament by growing a maze of 

 California privet (Arbor Vitse would have required far less pruning 

 and screened it all the year). Planted in a sheltered spot, the privet 

 maze was in leaf up to Christmas, even in the Berkshires. A belve- 

 dere elevated six feet allowed the conspirators from their coign of 

 vantage to chaff with good natured raillery the lost ones. A stiff 

 wire fence centred the entire hedge, and once fairly in the labyrinth 

 one mode of egress was to reach the Ibis-centred fountain and study 

 the map-of-escape tooled on its edge or depend on the good nature 

 of onlookers to direct the path to freedom. 



Horse posts were placed about the grounds in shady spots and 

 fitted with swivel-elbow knuckle bar and chain snap fastening, one 

 protected by a wooden umbrella canopy bracketed with screened 

 light. Near the porch, on a frost-proof foundation, was set a stone 

 mount block. 



Moat and Drawbridge. 



In the Norman stables were large conning tower and big arch- 

 way, approach being by drawbridge over a moat. We even attempted 

 a portcullis gate, iron pointed, barred and bolted, the sort that 

 "grazed Marmion's plume," but at the last moment it was recol- 

 lected that the proverbially careless boy might loose the chain, so 

 critical neighbors were spared this bit of vandalism. Fortunately nature 

 had already formed the ditch and a few days' labor with pick and 

 shovel and a horse-dirt-scoop, gave us the only moat in the entire 

 country-side, drained to form a dry grass-grown hollow instead of a 

 mosquito and malaria breeding ditch. The timbered bridge which 

 spanned it, built from the staunch oaken girts of our pre-revolu- 

 tionary barn deliberately wrecked for this purpose, was realistically 

 strengthened by heavy bolts and rusty, corroded, clanking chains, found 

 at a second-hand chandlery shop, with which accessories it sometimes 

 to some people passed muster as a feudal drawbridge. 



The porte cochere, or rather marquise, was on a sheltered 

 side of the house, avoiding an ice-blast cavern, disastrous to heated 

 horse and shivering coachman. The glass roof and location prevented 

 it from unduly shadowing the entrance hall, as well as adjoining 

 rooms. 



