Evening star., 1918-06-16
IHE site of old Union Church,
III Andrew Chapel and the ancient
log house of Uncle" Daniel

Andrew Chapel and the ancient
log house of Uncle Daniel
Sharper are three of the in-
teresting places in Fairfax county
which the Rambler visited last Sun
day. Bellevue is place-name given
to the intersection of the Tolson Mill
road and the railroad to Great Falls.
Nobody lives there and not many
travellers get on or off the cars at that
crossing.
Usually a station name in this
some farm or farmer nearby, but
sometimes it represents only the ex-
preston of the fancy of the man who
puts stations on the timetable or
paints the name on the little waiting
room. Whether Bellevue is an old
place-nam in that region or whether
it is a newcomer in the neighborhood
is one of the many things the Ram
bier does not know, but he suspects
that at some time within fifty or a
hundred years an elderly Virginia
gentleman with mustache, goatee
and a slouch hat and with a keen
sense of smell for the fragrance Of
mint juleps owned a farm there. Then,
on one June day when the moss roses
and the hundred-leaf roses were in
bloom, his daughter came home from
boarding school for her vacation.
X
She was a sweet girl. One might
call her gentle, but the Rambler feels
that she was little too spirited and
mettlesome to fit that word. She was
one of those little Virginia girls all
ways full of pep" and Irritation, but
who after marriage settle down reso-
1utely to the duties of the farm and
seem to live only for their children.
She was very pretty. Her hair was
almost black and hung in curls. Her
dress was of dimity or some lawn
fiounces and ribbons on it. She was
one Of those fluffy little girls Of the
olden time.
The tailor-made. statuesque girl had
not then come upon the scene, and
the languorous beauty who dwadled
in the hammock with one of Mrs.
Southworth's novels had no show in
the competition of getting a husband
with the frolicsome girl who giggled
merrily, Haunted her ribbons and
bows, shook her curls about her ears
and made every chap who called be-
lieve that she thought him the best
rider and the best dancer in the
county.
Well, this little girl came back to
the farm from boarding school. 1t
was some young ladies' seminary at
Leesburg, Winchester, Fredericks-
burg or it might have been as far
away as Richmond. She and her
father were sitting under an arbor
all grown over with that beautiful
flower which was called the old Eng
lish wax rose, and something like the
following conversation took place:
PA, has this farm got a name?
Every girl at school comes from
Mount Holly. Rose Mount. Myrtle
croft, Castle Hall or some other high
sounding place."
Yes, indeed, Nancy this farm has
name. Your grandfather called it
Rabbit Hollow and it came out of his
fathers farm which was called Gum
Thicket and that came out of the
original grant called Buzzard's
Roost."
The girl poufed a little and shook
her dark curls impatiently. Perhaps
do for me to come from Rabbit Hol-
low" she said. II am going to give
this place a better name" Then she
pulled one of the old English wax
roses and going to the steps of the
portico. or the front porch. she raised
ne "nlCe mower dDoNe HtT Hedu anu
citing it fall gently to the green
'urf, said: II christen thee, old home,
Bellevue"
The Rambler believes that Bellevue
got its name in something like that
fashion, for it is the history of many
of the old home names in Virginia and
IN Maryland.
Close to Bellevue are Spring Hill
und Prospect Hill, and thus one ought
to- get the impression that 1t is a
hilly country. The road that crosses
1T Bellevue is the Tolson Mill road.
That has been it's name for a good
many more than 100 years. 1t was
aid down to lead from the Alex
,ndria pike to Tolson's mill, which
stood on Difficult run between the
Georgetown and Leesburg road and
the river. The stone ruin of the
mil is there yet and it is one of the
most satisfactory ruins about WASH
;ngton-that is. though it is a COM
'lete ruin, yet enough of the stone
~alls are standing to tell that it was
mill. Big trees grow within the
lin and other trees have rooted
'femselves in the stone walls and
caps of fallen rock, and vines clasp
he whole place in their embrace.
he Rambler has told of this mill.
,ut he called it Walkers mill. The
not remember when the mill was not
! ruin, but he can recollect that his
father. who died at the age of ninety
Walkers mill. The Rambler has
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