THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE 327 



these many years. On either side of the rough bars 

 leading between our boundary wall and the meadow 

 stands a dead cedar tree, from which the dry, moss- 

 covered branches have been broken by the loads of 

 hay that used to be gathered up at random and carted 

 out this way. Wild birds doubtless used these branches 

 as perches of vantage from which they might view the 

 country, both during feeding excursions and in migra- 

 tion, and thus have sown the seed of their provender, 

 for lo and behold, around the old trees have grown 

 vines of wild grapes, with flowers that perfume the en- 

 tire meadow in June. Here the woody, spiral-climbing 

 waxwork holds aloft its clusters of berries that look 

 like bunches of miniature lemons until on being ripe 

 they open and show the coral fruit; Virginia creeper 

 of the five-pointed fingers, clinging tendrils, glorious 

 autumn colour, and spreading clusters of purple black- 

 berries, and wild white clematis, the "traveller's joy" of 

 moist roadside copses, all blending together and stretch- 

 ing out hands, until this season being undisturbed, they 

 have clasped to form a natural arch of surpassing 

 beauty. 



Having a great pile of cedar poles, in excess of the 

 needs of all our other projects, my present problem 

 is to place a series of simple arches constructed on 



