THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE 41 



The great stone chimney had a hearty 

 breath which needed no aid from 

 chimney pots or tiles, and sheltered a 

 tribe of swallows, who, poising high, 

 dropped to their nests, then whirled 

 aloft again like wind spirits. The 

 well, with its long sweep, stood close to 

 the back porch, a corner screened by 

 hop and grape vines, where women sat 

 and sewed of afternoons and talked 

 with neighbours who stood leaning on 

 the fence. Here the young people 

 came from the garden with rose leaves 

 in their aprons, and their mother took 

 down the big blue jar, that " grandfather 

 brought from China " and caged in it 

 the sweets in fragrant potpourri, read- 

 ing the rule, meanwhile, from her 

 grandmother's book: "Take of June 

 roses just about to fall, two parts. 

 Shake them well free from dew, and 

 add of new-blown buds two parts; of 



