CHAPTER V.AT THE PASTURE BARS: ELDER-BUSHES MAY HAVE STINGS.
The street upon which the Palace Hotel fronted formed the south side of the Square and ran west to the edge of the town, where it turned to the south for a quarter of a mile or more, then bent to the west again.

Some distance from this second turn, there stood, fronting close on the road, a large brick house, the most pretentious mansion in Carlow County.
And yet it was a homelike place, with its red-brick walls embowered in masses of cool Virginia creeper, and a comfortable veranda crossing the broad front, while half a hundred stalwart sentinels of elm and beech and poplar stood guard around it.

The front walk was bordered by geraniums and hollyhocks; and honeysuckle climbed the pillars of the porch.

Behind the house there was a shady little orchard; and, back of the orchard, an old-fashioned, very fragrant rose-garden, divided by a long grape arbor, extended to the shallow waters of a wandering creek; and on the bank a rustic seat was placed, beneath the sycamores.
From the first bend of the road, where it left the town and became (after some indecision) a country highway--called the pike--rather than a proud city boulevard, a pathway led through the fields to end at some pasture bars opposite the brick house.
John Harkless was leaning on the pasture bars.

The stars were wan, and the full moon shone over the fields.