H6 A BOOK ABOUT ROSES 



poles, the lower part well charred and tarred, and 

 driven deep into the ground, and looking from the 

 first so very rustic and natural. The Rose-trees 

 grew luxuriantly, and for three or four summers I 

 esteemed myself invincible in the game of pyramids. 

 Then one night there came heavy rain, attended 

 by a hurricane, and when I went out next morning, 

 two of my best trees were lying flat upon the ground, 

 with their roots exposed (the poles, having decayed 

 near the surface, had snapped suddenly) ; and several 

 others were leaning like the tower at Pisa or the 

 spire of Chesterfield Church, some hopelessly dis- 

 placed, and others deformed and broken. Fallen, 

 and about to fall, they looked as though their 

 liquid manure had been mixed too strong for them, 

 and had made them superlatively drunk. Shortly 

 afterwards I had another disaster, caused by a 

 similar decay — the top of a pole, in which two 

 iron arches met each other, giving way to a 

 boisterous wind, and so causing a divorcement 

 between Brennus and Adelaide d'Orleans, long and 

 lovingly united. I would therefore advise, not 

 dwelling upon other disadvantages resulting from 

 the use of wood — such as the production of fungi, 

 and the open house which it provides for insects — 

 that the supports for Pillar Roses be of iron. 

 Neatly made and painted, tastefully and sparingly 



