Front Dooryards 49 



" On a grass-green swell 

 That towards the south with sweet concessions fell, 

 It dwelt retired, and half had grown to be 

 As aboriginal as rock or tree. 

 It nestled close to earth, and seemed to brood 

 O'er homely thoughts in a hall-conscious mood. 

 If paint it e'er had known, it knew no more 

 Than yellow lichens spattered thickly o'er 

 That soft lead gray, less dark beneath the eaves, 

 Which the slow brush of wind and weather leaves. 

 The ample roof sloped backward to the ground 

 And vassal lean-tos gathered thickly round, 

 Patched on, as sire or son had felt the need. 

 But the great chimney was the central thought. 



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It rose broad-shouldered, kindly, debonair, 

 Its warm breath whitening in the autumn air." 



Sarah Orne Jewett, in the plaint of A Mournful 

 Villager •, has drawn a beautiful and sympathetic 

 picture of these front yards, and she deplores their 

 passing. I mourn them as I do every fenced-in or 

 hedged-in garden enclosure. The sanctity and re- 

 serve of these front yards of our grandmothers was 

 somewhat emblematic of woman's life of that day : 

 it was restricted, and narrowed to a small outlook 

 and monotonous likeness to her neighbor's; but it 

 was a life easily satisfied with small pleasures, and it 

 was comely and sheltered and carefully kept, and 

 pleasant to the home household ; and these were 

 no mean things. 



The front yard was never a garden of pleasure ; 

 children could not play in these precious little en- 

 closed plots, and never could pick the flowers — 



