The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1888-10-27


happy country before the war swept over
it, and made new heaven and new earth
for them.
/ | knew as well as if jeff had spoken
that he was thinking of those far off days
! that are as much separated from us now
as if centuries instead of years rolled be-
Tween. | knew he was remembering the
ring he and Marse Phil laid off in the
blue grass meadow, where Marse Phil
practiced riding bare back and without a
bridle on the thoroughbred mare he had
chosen for the purpose. Round and round
he would go, tiltiug at the rings hanging
from their supports, and stringing them on
the long, slender lance he was to use. 1t
was pretty enough sight to see him prac-
ticing in the dewy mornings, both rider
and horse with that indescribable thorough
bred look, clean cut, powerful, erect, with
an ear an eye like an Indians, and cour-
age one instinctiyely felt would never falter.
They would go to their death, if need be,
with rush. jeff never forgot those morn
ings. Sometimes he would time them,
sometimes ole marse;er, sometimes pretty
Polly, Marse Pills cousin, would futter
down to the ring and stand there with the
spig stop watch in her hands, the daintiest
Judge that ever called time on a laggard
rider. 1t was only when Polly was time
keeper that the mare and her rider failed
to get around in the twenty seconds pre-
scribed by the tournament management for
the race, and JEFF groaned in spirit when
he thought of the possible effect of POlly's
presence on the great day.
II lay Miss Polly's gwine to make Marse
Phil lose dat race yit," heprophesided dis
mally.
The ring in the meadow at Woodstock
was but prototype of many another in
the neigborhood, for the tournament was
to be grand affair. The prize for the
victor was a slender golden crown set with
rubies, and he was to choose from among
the county bellies the one he would crown
queen of love and beauty.
Finally the day arrived, such an October
day as only comes to Tennessee and south
ern Kentucky, when the air is full of tine
blue haze of Indian summer and the forests
are like banks of opal, red and yellow, brown
and green, quivering mass of color in the
autumn breeze, and the long white turn
pixies curve between banks of golden red
and purple iron weeds. The fair grounds
where the tournament was to be held was
gay with music and bright with flags. The
rich country people were coming in in
heavily laden carriages, the booths where
colored lemonade and indigestible ginger
bread was sold, or feats of skill or chance
attempted, were in full swing of custom.
Hostlers led blanketed and silky coated
horses in and out the crowd, nurses in gay
bandannas and white aprons scurried about
with dazed and frightened children, every
now and then the wind would bring Whit
of the savory barbecue being prepared un-
der the superintendent of old Ben in a
trench under the oaks, for a big dinner and
dance was to finish off the days festivities.
1t was a noisy, boisterous, good natured
crowd care free as they never were to be
again.
Up at the amphitheatre the track was
being sprinkled and rolled until it was hard
and firm Over at one side was the flight
of steps covered with white cloth that led
to the throne where some fortunate youth
was to lead his sweetheart, and there in the
presence of all his little world crown her
queen of love and beauty.
1t was as pretty and as picturesque Il
scene under the soft southern skies as one
could well imagine, and it would have been
pathetic enough for all its bravery if only
one had known that the south had come
to the very last days of her hundred years
of song and merry making, and that this
was almost the last holidaying of a happy,
care free people.
But the band was beginning to play
what was it? aI'm dreaming now of Hal
lie, sweet Halle" it is the southern air, if
we have one. All, many night under
the stars on the eve of battle, or in the dim,
gray dawn when they sprang from half
broken dreams of home to boot and saddle,
when the band played "Listen to the Mock
ing Bird" did those gallant young fellows
recall that day with a heartsick and home.
sick throb. The music throbbed out louder
and louder through the vibrant air, the
grooms were leading the sleek coated
thoroughbreds round and round the ring,
the contestants were getting ready, only
Marse Phil is lingering for a few last words
with Polly, who is pinning on his breast a
knot of white and silver ribbon that looks
brave enough against the black velvet and
silver lace that somehow makes good foil
for his fresh young beauty and 1.-THE figure.
81 am your knight, Polly" he is say
ing, eff l win 1 crown you queen of love
and beauty, and my wife, and audacity
wins with pretty Polly, as humility never
would, and she fushes little under her
clear dark skin as she answers
eff you win !"
Those we're the days when people read
Scott instead of Howells and james, and
when they believed, like Stevenson, that
the finest hero is better for wearing a bit
of purple, so when the contestants in the
| tournament rode out they wore the odd court
dress. Most of them were descendants of
the old knightly lines of England, and there
may have been some indistinct inherited
consciousness of other Journeys and jousts
that made this sport take such hold on their
imaginations, so they came as Ivanhoe and
Boise Gilbert, and the Black Knight and
| Sir Launcelot, and host of Others
Presently the bugle called time and the
/ first knight entered and saluted the audi
ence that sat eager, breathless, attentive.
Poor fellow, it was not long before he
earned real knighthood on the field of
battle, when he rode with that same un-
faltering and immovable seat in the sad
die right into the face of death and
planted his colors on the enemy's smok-
ing batteries, There was murmur Of
recognition for him and his horse, for it
was an audience that owned and was
keenly critical of good horse flesh, and
then there was wild fanfare of music
the Judge dropped the flag, and horse and
rider were away on mad race. Only
twenty seconds in which the rider must
take the ten rings, hanging from theil
hooks, on his long, slender lance. Quick Of
eye, supple of wrist, faultless horsemar
must he be or he loses. Twice the ridel
strings the ten glittering rings on his