The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-02-16
WHERE MISS SHONTS LIVED
 AMID ALABAMA MAGNOLIAS
Something the Winter Colony That Invaded the
 Shore of Mobile Bay.
BY ANNIE kENDRIck WALKER.

1 yachting and especially fond of horse- back riding. She could ride and drive for miles on her fathers estate. The village folk thought of her only as a school girl who had grooms to run al ] her bidding and who when she was not horseback riding was enjoying outdoor life in numerous other ways. where a : climate as soft as Italy invited her to spend all day, baskng like a princess in the winter sunshine
 No princess ever basked in a more TO- mantle garden, for the shores below the garden are steeped in history.
 Their white cliffs, like those loved by Lamartine seem made for the humble homes of fishermen. Grazziella might have lived here. Lamartine could have dreamed on these shores. lined by it's white houses and it's rocks. embroidered with creeping vines, and encireling sea bluer than the heaven above, like grea. vase of vert antique whitened with foam whose brim and handles are festooned with ivy leaves and branches
 It is a coast for idle dreamers, for painters and for those who wish to write of that period when the white flag Of France f1oated over it. Bienville days
 But for all of its romantic beauty and interesting history l could not but ex- press surprise that a northern villa col ony had discovered it and reclaimed it from the ravages Of time. And the sur prise was all the greater because from the deck of the Carney, as we eruised gulfward there was so little to suggest a fashionable winter colony going ashore at the quiet little wharf at Daphne.
 The bay was rough that afternoon, the color of bronze. fiecked with foam. The Carney had drifted out of gray harbor at Mobile, a sturdy little boat along side the sea-going craft, flying the flags of many nations. With the arney well un- der way the sky turned gray black, the wind rose and the passengers discussed probable storms in the gulf. Under the pe- culiarly fraternizing influences of steam CT life the conversation drifted from talk of the harbor and the bay to the places of varied interest along shore And then and there there occurred one of those little incidents that sometimes change the whole current of our lives.
 Our party had set sail that afternoon for Battles, a small winter resort and fishing village quite low down on the coast There was small inn there where winter folk could be accommoda ted, and 1t was owned by the family of the purser Our arrangements to stay at the inn had been made through the purser and he himself was to take our travelling bags ashore, introduce us to the family, and in fact the Carney would probably anchor there for the night.
 Meanwhile the Bay grew so choppy that most of the passengers went in- side the small cabin. and 1t was there that we heard of phne-on-th Bay "the garden spot of the eastern shore" !" said the tempter who described it to me- "a veritable paradise of pink oleander trees and magnoias"-the white cliffs of the little village just then coming into view.
 The Carney, she said would touch at the Daphne pier. we could go ashore for the night, and the next day again set sail.
 It was such charming suggestion that we lost no time in adopting it. The purser, surprised, a trife disappointed at our change of plans, threw our bags after us as we stepped ashore. The wharf man" put them into a little hand car. while we walked the entire length of the pier against which the tides were beating with the fury of the sea.
 The pier ended in the center of the little village overlooking a shore of wild and tropical beauty. There was but one street-built above the water front. It's little houses might have sprung from the sea. like coral islands when the waves receded We walked as if in a dream beneath the spreading branches of giant trees, pauslng to gaze upward into their gray regions of enchantment, those impenetrable depths formed of in tricate garlands of Spanish moss, at once so beautiful and yet so mournful. Final ly we opened a little garden gate and entered path bordered with pink olean- ders.
 The house was old, but had been newly painted, winter than the sands, and it seemed to be set in window boxes of scar let geraniums. The door was open and we could see the core of wood fire that still glowed brightly. The bronze bay could be seen through the open doorway.
 Six weeks later we again set sail In that time we had ample opportunity to see for ourselves some of the many at fractions that had already drawn a win ter colony to this dreaming coast, and we used to wonder if they had gone ashore for the night, as we had done, and had fallen under the spell that was holding us there day after day