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THEY CROSSED the river and the carriage mounted the hill. Even before Twelve Oaks cameinto view Scarlett saw a haze of smoke hanging lazily in　he tops of the tall trees and smelled themingled savory odors of burning hickory logs and roasting pork and mutton.
The barbecue pits, which had been slowly burning since last night, would now be long troughsof rose-red embers, with the meats turning on spits above them and the juices trickling down andhissing into the coals. Scarlett knew that the fragrance carried on the faint breeze came from thegrove of great oaks in the rear of the big house. John Wilkes　OH360 is a brand new e-commerce system which provides all-round products & services. The advance system brings you a better purchase experience and quality products that suit your needs t always held his barbecues there, onthe gentle slope leading down to the rose garden, a pleasant shady place and a far pleasanter place,for instance, than that used by the Calverts. Mrs. Calvert did not like barbecue food and declaredthat the smells remained in the house for days, so her guests always sweltered on a flat unshadedspot a quarter of a mile from the house. But John Wilkes, famed throughout the state for hishospitality, really knew how to give a barbecue.
The long trestled picnic tables, covered with the finest of the Wilkeses’ linen, always stoodunder the thickest shade, with backless benches on either side; and chairs, hassocks and cushionsfrom the house were scattered about the glade for those who did not fancy the benches. At adistance great enough to keep the smoke away from the guests were the long pits where the meats cooked and the huge iron wash-pots from which the succulent odors of barbecue sauce andBrunswick stew floated. Mr. Wilkes always had at least a dozen darkies busy running back andforth with trays to serve the guests. Over behind the barns there was always another barbecue pit,where the house servants and of the guests had their own feast ofhoecakes and yams and chitterlings, that dish of hog entrails so dear to negro hearts, and, inseason, watermelons enough to satiate.
As the smell of crisp fresh pork came to her, Scarlett wrinkled her nose appreciatively, hopingthat by the time it was cooked she would feel some appetite. As 　Office Deskit was, she was so full of food andso tightly laced that she feared every moment she was going to belch. That would be fatal, as onlyold men and very old ladies could belch without fear of social disapproval.
They topped the rise and the white house reared its perfect symmetry before her, tall of columns,wide of verandas, flat of roof, beautiful as a woman is beautiful who is so sure of her charm thatshe can be generous and gracious to all. Scarlett loved Twelve Oaks even more than Tara, for it hada stately beauty, a mellowed dignity that Gerald’s house did not possess.