The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1903-09-05

Well take Il cup o Kindness yet,
For auld lang syne .
Again my mind is roaming far back to
the days of the old Rustic Bridge by
the Mill" And how strange it will seem
to my young readers when | tell them
that hundreds of acres of land on both
sides of the Blue Ball road. were then
open commons in the happy days of
which | write. And especially was this
the case between Elkton and the Little
Elk crossing yonder nj the mill. On the
west side of the road from Dogwood
Run, up to the Little Elk crossing was
out nj commons. save IL five acre lot
owned by the writer's father and Il very
few feet, Il mere lane. in front of the old
log house on the old Major Henry Ben
nett farm. All of that long stretch on
the west side of the road. to Cow Run
was one vast open field reaching out to
the Little Elk. which has long since been
bought and fenced in. making two fields
with Il public highway running between.
to the creek. where an iron bridge con-
meets the lonely old BarrenS with this
side And then comes Quagmire Swamp
which contained about sixty acres, and
old Quigmirc connected with Il primevHl
forest. all of which was Il mixture of
huge trees of every known species, and
this virginia. forest extended all the way
to the "Old Rustic Bridge by the Mill"
And on the east side. we had hundreds
of acres of public pasture land. All of
Benefits and HollingSworth'S woods
with many pretty glades all affording
rich cropping for the many half starved
quadrupedS sure to be cut adrift IN the
early spring. Every poor man for miles
around turned out to this vast pasture
For in those days every one had one or
more cows And of the hundreds of cat
tie, horses and sheep too. | do believe
that the one-half of the whole had bells
strapped to their neckS And whit
sig..- it would be to MY young leaders.
could they see Il large herd of colts Scam-
pering ut play. all with bells on their
neckS. and each having its own peculiar
glngle. tinkle and clang. all Scudding
hther and yon and the hindmoSt crittcr
winning out every time. III one of those
old fields, while the unSymphOnous music
of their own wild creation pierced every
little glad" throughout Quigmire Swamp.
One morning in carly spring. and the
beautiful queen of the morning was only
just pecrin@ over the summit of the east
ern hills. 1t was of the deep orange hue
and set i'll Il clear blue sky. \ woman
ana little boy are passing down the
highways and the woman stops suddenly
and pointing athWart the old field far
down next to Quagnirc Swamp. she
says. look yUndrr III that sweet little
girl. The woman was the mother of
the little boy. and the boy WAS your old
scribe. The dear old mother was ON her
way To Mother Browns to do her weeks
wash
And that which had called forth moth
erS look Nondcr. was Il drove of ten or
hfteeu young horses or colts. nearly all
with bells on their ncckS, all rumping and
racing up and down the old meadow near
Quagmirc Swamp. And one lovely glossy
black, with long flowing name and tail.
and apparently about five years old But
the wonderful ATTRACTIONS and which had
aroused mother, was beautiful little
girl, sitting aStrdc the glossy black. while
her lovely chestnut brown hair was
streaming far back over the magnificent
black that she sat on rs nicely as any
Jockey that | have ever seen since. But
how swectly she was enjoying the sport
there all alone save the colts. When her
pretty black would double and vault
clear over one of the smaller colts. then
her ripping pcalS of hilarious laughter
would float til" meadows and forest DER
with music sweet. And now young read
err, you will rccollcct that | promised You
a sort of romantic narrative with a
very sweet little heroine. and yonder she
is on the glossy back of BLACK Joe" and
her name is Donna Belle. learned her
name long aftcrward, but bless her love
ly brown eyes. she never told it to me.
Ordinarily Donna Belle sits Black Joe
in Il lady-like manner and only in these
mad cap rompS does she 20 it a$tridc \
mantle of mystery surrounds our little
beauty, just ut this period. but stick
right close to your old scribe young ones,
and he will place Donna Belle in the end.
Donna Belle comes every morning from
some where over in the North East bar
rens. and she crosses the Little Elk near
Glenn Dale, ut the old ford. which cross
in, lad ont To, 1,, ,,r, Il Il Il