The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1900-02-17
Written for the "Cecil Wing"

n UR story opens in November 1889
and the close of Autumn brings
a breath of Winter. 1t is late
in the afternoon, and already
the daylight has taken to itself wings and
fownTpartially away-and though as yet a
good deal of it, through compassion fingers,
it is but half-hearted dallying that speaks
of hurry to be gone.
The scene OF this narrative crowns hill
that slopes from the banks of the Susque-
hanna river, and dotted here and there all
up and down with the homes of a people OF
simple tastes and upright minds. The
noble river, which in its history as we'll as
in its name, carries one back TO the days
when the noble red man trod its either
bank, sweeps majestioally through the hills
between Cecil and Hartford counties. On the
Cecil side of her laughing waters, nature
seems to WOO the heart back to her sacred
haunts with sweet vistas OF sparkling
waters and verdant pastures and many a
wildwood scene and to penetrate its deep
est recesses with the halycon.charm that
ever fingers about the thought of home,
sweet home.
Looking southwark, one catches a mag
nificent view of Perryyile on the Cecil
side and across the river, Havre de Grace
which nestles close up to the romantic river
lust before she tumbles into the Chesapeake
Bay. Two of the greatest railroads in the
world cross the river at this point-namely,
the p, w. & B., and B. u. O. The two
iron bridges which span the stream to ac-
oommodate these grand thoroughfares, loom
high up above the water, and frown at each
other like two demons in the air. A branch
road meanders up the river, and the whole
way up one can step from the railroad into
the stream and the constant screeching of
the iron monsters as they roll in every dir
ection, reminds us that Jehovah is breath
ing upon this people through his golden
horn of prosperity.
To follow the branch road in its wind
ings up the river bank, one would be in
constant fear of being crushed on the track
or hurled into the river by falling rock
hanging on the prec:pice chat towers almost
to the clouds. So majestic they are 80
sublime that one would gaze up and ex-
claim as did one of old, "Oh saw ye Him
whom my soul desireth to love- But we
will follow instead, e cart.rood that winds
it's way up over a hill dividing a farm on
the right from gloomy forest on the left,
The homestead on the right denotes thrift
and industry. Just opposite to the lane
leading from the farm house to the high
way is large gate, which is the entrance
to the woods beyond. The gate had been
recently white. washed, which forms a weird
contrast with the dilapidated post.fen
which connects it Oh either side and the
sombre woods in the background complete
the luridness Of the whole.
1t ia evening, the shadows are swiftly
gathering. Already the dusk, sure herald
of night is here. Above in the trees, the
birds are grooming their last faint songs
and rutllng their feathers on their night
perches. A sweet motherly voice is heard
at the farmhouse below, calling Ruby /!
Ruby come darling and run over with
Aunt Salle's milk, and hurry back before
dark, so that father will not have to go to
meet you. And soon beautiful girl Of
about eighteen golden summers is seen
coming up the lane. Her step is as nimble
as the fawns, her hair is like the ravens
wing with the sun shining on it and her
unfashomable black eyes are grave and