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Updated: June 28, 2025
One Saturday afternoon he climbed the garden wall, and skirting behind a long row of rosebushes that screened him from the Countess's terrace, came to a little summer-house where the two young ladies had appointed to meet him that day. A pleasant half-hour or so was passed, and then it was time for Myles to go.
The rosebushes and hedges looked so funny, growing out of the water, and there were such a lot of curious things floating about a hen-coop, a wash-tub, and an old hamper had hurried past; and their boat had drifted as far as the gate leading out into the roadway, when Marjorie jumped up and pointed excitedly to something floating rapidly towards them. "Look!
Harry climbed silently over the low fence, and Dalton followed in the same manner. The light from the street and house did not penetrate the pines and rosebushes, where Harry quickly found a refuge, Dalton as usual following him. "What next?" whispered Dalton. "Now, I do my trailing and scouting, and you help me all you can, George, but be sure you don't make any noise.
Now she squawked on the right; then she acted "the anxious mother" on the left; this time it was from the clump of rosebushes in front that she rose hurriedly, as if that was her home; again it was from over my head, in the chokecherry-tree, that she bustled off, as if she had been "caught in the act."
Chad rose and the Major walked toward the door, his step not very steady, and his shoulders a bit shrunken his back, somehow, looked suddenly old. "Brutus!" he called sharply to a black boy who was training rosebushes in the yard. "Saddle Mr. Chad's horse."
"My love must be stronger than that, now of all times," thought Mary. "Afterwards afterwards it will be all right." She smiled confidently to herself. It was the end of June. Mary's rosebushes were in full bloom and the little garden was languid with the scent of them.
"Yes!" she cried suddenly, out loud, to the rosebushes beyond the open window "but it had a reason it had a reason!" She clasped her hands fiercely to her breast. "And there is no birth without pain." A few days after her arrival, Delia woke up in the early dawn in the large room that had been her grandmother's.
Now he is a tree-builder in the fork of a trunk or on a horizontal branch, then a builder in vines or rosebushes around your porch, then on some coign of vantage about your house or barn, or under the shed, or under a bridge, or in the stone wall, or on the ground above a hedge. I have known him to go into a well and build there on a projecting stone.
Her wet feet got entangled among clusters of dead heliotrope and crysanthemums, still blooming in defiance of storm and frost. The shawl blew loose from her hands, which unconsciously huddled it close to her bosom, and was torn by the thorny rosebushes. Fragments of her dress were left behind.
Homespun virtues: unselfishness, indifference to money values, the constant sense of filial, fraternal, social responsibility . . . the glow in Jack's eyes when they rested on his wife: Verney's war on cesspools: Leverton Morley as scoutmaster: the Chinese lecture: rosebushes in the churchyard, by the great stone cross with its list of names beginning "George Potts, Wiltshire Rifles, aged 49," and ending "Robert Denis Bendish, Grenadier Guards, aged 19: Into Thy Hands, O Lord": old, old feudal England, closeknit, no pastoral of easy virtues, yet holding together in a fellowship which underlies class disunion: whose sons, from days long before the Conquest, have always desired to go to sea when the cuckoo sang, and to come home again when they were tired of the hail and salt showers, because they could not bear to be landless and lordless men. . . .
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