The Birmingham age-herald., 1914-12-19

~ NE bright morning not so long ago U as I watched the storm a.'...' shadows s"s
 play over the hills of Virginia and Maryland. hills tinted with many colored hues of autumn, my thoughts turned backward to my first visit to Mt. Vernon, and I wondered If it was sign that l was growing old. An well, if to dream over again the delights of the past is growing old, I am willing that it should be so.
 I remember how each new point of ln- terest filled me with a charm that deep- ems and becomes still more fascinating now that I recall it. Behind me the build- ings of the capital, midway between. the tall form of the Washington monument, which, like a shaft of light, seems to pen- citrate the very blue of heaven. Then the quaint old town of Alexandria. with it's struggling streets and rotting wharfs, re- calling the days when Washington was one of it's most prominent citizens. l see plainly above me the tree tops of Christ church, where he worshipped, and one corner of the old market where tradition tells us he came out second best, an in cident whether true or false, like to think is true, as it shows the human side of the Father of his Country. Too often he is painted with the halo of a saint, for great and good as he was, I like to think of him as having few failings like other mortals. Then on past the old church yard at St. Paul where the un- known lady sleeps as secure in mystery today as when she found her last rest ing place in the beginning of this century.
 But I am forgetting the spots-Fort Foote, Fort Washington, and here and there a bend in the river bringes us into full view of the home in life as well as in death, of our first President. flew majestically it crowns the hilltop-no won- der he loved it!
 It seems to me that the sun always shines here, for I have never seen it any other way, and 1t was just such per feet day as this that I first wandered up this old foot-worn path to the new tomb, new though nearly 80 years have passed since the iron gates were closed and the key thrown into the Potomac, that it might never be opened again until the last call of the Angel Gabriel. All day wandered in and about the rooms. read and re-read the inscriptions on each article. and gazed on the key of the bastille, presented by Lafayette. Each room seemed to tell the story of days and of people that came and went when our nation was young. How rap idly the hours flew by; I heard the bell ring for the last boat, but it seemed so far away that I gave it no heed till the gathering gloom told of approaching night. when I noticed that l, alone of all visitors remained.
 | "Is there no way by which can reach Washington I asked an old negro Not any moh tonight, honey" he re- piled.
 well, is there any place I can stay? questioned.
 Not uAess you stop with colored folks, he answered
 "Well, that is good enough for me if
 may go with you,' and I looked at 4.s
 black, shiny face, so full of the mem
 ory of the old slave days.
 Mighty poor pickin' you get with me | honey, but you can have hoe cake at ths cabin if you care to come."
 l Gladly I followed the old ebony fact
 as with tottering steps he trudged dowr l a lane to a hollow in the hills, where a | the end of a road we stopped before al l open cabin door. All about 1t, a tangled 1 growth of vines, with here and there {
 yellow gourd geaming in the light With in. everything was spotless. the broad
 open fireplace with it's cheery fire spark ling with warmth and brightness, whil' | the odor of freshly cooked bacon an( 1 golden corn cake bespoke a generous wei come.
 to call him, called out: 'Dinah, Dinah
 we's got company dis eben.''
 There was an extra plate on the able and I was soon enjoying splendid home ly supper. spiced with many excuses an,
 Rgrets because of it's quality.
 Weber mind,'' said uncle, i've hav chicken for breakfast" and I imagine, that saw his own lips take on an extr,
 thickness in anticipation of the delicacy. T After supper we stood around the fire
 and listened to ghost stories of tn
 old plantation and slavery days. uNtil tn
 woolly heads began to nod, tired out witt
 the days toll; then I was shown a - I der made of wooden pins driven into logs Il These brought me to a snug place in tn
 garret. and bed all glorious in a quil of as many colors as Josephs coat Through the boards that but partly GOV
 cred the roof l could see the stars in tn J far oft heavens. and from below came tn