Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1898-02-17
rTHE 30 WEIR"

small farmhouse WIFI RIedC "Iu0
chimney places; there blazed away
sections of oak trees, and my grand
fathers stiff little wooden sofas could
easily set in the ingle nook. In my
days, Just before the old building went
the way of all things, John P. Kennedy
made visit to it, delighting us by
bringing with him Washington Irving,
that worshiper ofrelics. In the course
of years handsome brick building
took the place of the first one. This
was partially burnt not long ago but
was quickly rebuilt by its present own
ers, the family of Lemuel P. cambridge.
The edifce preserves its identity of
appearance and is in colonial fashion.
1t stands on high plateau whose base
is washed by the Opequon just where
a lovely waterfall delights the eye, and
forever murmurs in the ear. Magnlh-
cent oaks spread their arms lovingly
about the dwelling-place, and the grass
puts on its richest hue of velvet for
the beloved spot. On the opposite
shore of the creek rises a line Of bold
hills, the breath of whose pine forests
make THE Bower" the JOY of finvallds.
How many weary city-housed matron
has buoyed herself UP in the winter
by the thought Of the haven of rest on
the Opequon in her summer outing !?
The children playing forever among
the trees, left their parents free for the
solace of quiet work or book in some
nook of the grand old hall. Did ever
young people have such tine? Dane
ing, singing, riding on horseback, drlv-
ing or floating off amongst dipping
willows or white-armed sycamores IN
our pretty boat, the "Minnehaha. "
Sometimes author guests would come
under the spell of our Eden and go
away to give 1t Immortality. The
Swallow Barn" of J. P. Kennedy was
written in its honor The Belle
Tracy" of the story was the eldest
daughter of Stephen cambridge. An
other aunt of mine, Evelina, was the
Florence Vane' of Philip ?. Cooke S
poem. A college friend of his, Mr..
Alex. Boteler, told me he wrote it at
Princeton and bashfully threw it out
of the window, some Of the students
rescuing it. This lady afterwards mar
ried R. NJ. T. Hunter. Mr.. Cooke also
wrote to her the poem beginning
Young Emily has temples fair, .
Caressed by locks of dark brown hair.
This innocent maiden made havoc
of the poets heart. This Bryonese boy
had an idyllic appearance-gracetul as
Apollo, and with marble brow, clus-
tered over with curls, and generally
wearing hunting-garb of green vel
vet. He would galiop down from Win
chester. twenty miles off, to throw to
his lady-love bouquet as she sat on
the moonlit balcony, dashing off again
without a word. The romance nearly
eliminated in a tragedy. One day
she was at her piano when he walked
into the parlor Taking a pistol out
of his pocket he said fercely, ut IS
time this tragedy should end. Swift
as doe she darted out through the
open window, and on gaining the hall
door, fell in a fainting fit. Once again,
years after, she fell fainting on that
very spot. After many sorrow she
returned to the old roof-tree. and as
"the light of other days" came round
her, she uttered the weary lament,
"Have I come home to die and for
a time lay lifeless on the threshold
where she had come in and out 10 the
Paradisical days of youth.
can fancy the happiness of her gen.
Grafton from the days we had in ours
by wood and water there. No dryads
could have been happier than we IN
the life of the forest. III my mind
what pictures there are of May MORN
ings, when few minutes padding on
the stream, powered in sweet-scented
grapes, and fringed with nodding blue
bells, would bring US to Cosy Dell.
At the top of this glen was St. Agnes
Well, and from thence the waters slow
ly trickled down through beds of fern
beieweled with arbutus, until they
formed pool at Katie's grOttO, where
the laurel bloom was heaviest. The
ravine was like fairy land in autumn.
Then we liked to wander along the