Evening star., 1918-06-30

fairy books there are palaces Win
marble walls, golden roofs and floors
are q long way off and no boys
i've in them. Their only tenants
are fays, fairies, elfins and that sort
Of thing, with perhaps a beautiful
princess to rule over them. When
houses with khingle roofs. rose-
covered porches, glass windows, q
pantry full of jelly and preserves and
an apple orchard close by, there Is
no other house in the county that can
lieyes that this is the thought which
every boy holds toward his home
~
At least old fashioned boys have
felt that way about their homes.
Great changes have come in boys and
perhaps there are persons who con-
slider these changes improvements.
Some persons consider as an improve
ment anything that is change. 1t
is very hard nowadays to find boy
who takes pride in the way he can
drive yoke Of steers and who boasts
of how long his OK whip is and how
loud is the "cracker' at its end. The
old -fshioned boy would almost steal
a pair of boots that he might carve
the tops into those long strips OF
leather wi ich he plated for the whip
and would spend day in making
choice of the cedar sapling which was
to be turned into the whipstaf. Then.
there were boys who prided them
selves on their ability to run a
straight .furrow with the plow. But
it would seem, especially in the
neighborhood Of Washington, those
boys grew up and died OF old age
long ago.
AS the years flashed by the boy
who believed his home castle that
was larger and finer than any other
house in the county began to see the
world, and one Of the unpleasant
things he found out was that the old
house was rather plain. Finally he
went farther out into the world to
seek his fortune, as the saying used
to be, and he generally found the
quest long and 1rksome and the for
tune Elusive or well concealed. The
old folks back home passed away,
and the grass and then the weeds
grew over them in the little family,
cemetery among the cedars near the
back of the house. Already the old
home had begun to show symptoms
of neglect. 1t is a progressive malady,
and unless corrective measures are
warped and out of plumb, no matter
how well it may have been built.
Strangers come in and they have very
little sympathy with the old house.
They are rather out of temper with
1t for being leaky and draughty. They
call it a "has-been" and declare that
1t is not worth paying taxes on. For
them no fond recollections hover
about the old house. They chop down
the little clump of cedars at the back
of the house and turn them into fence
posts. Then they plow over the burial
pIOI. FOr them no memories cling
about that holy spot. Only some
bones lie there. They are progressive
and practical people and have no
patience with silly stuff like senti-
ment.
The boy who went far off to seek
his fortune has found only a part of
1t. He is still seeking, but not with
the hope and ardor of his youth. He
feels that Fortune is in a smiling
mood II he can pay his bills at the
has family. Often do his thoughts
go back to the old house and to the
little clump of cedars at the back Of
1t. They are very tender thoughts,
and it seems to him just a little while
ago that he was there. Once again
his imagination gilds the place and
makes it one OF the fairest as well as
the fondest in the world. The porches
on which he played seem broader and
loftier than they truly were. The
"ocF anu ucepeF Indn
they were in fact. No Jelly seems
as good as that which came out
OF that pantry. No apples are as
red, sweet and juicy as those that
ripened in that orchard. No roses
smell as sweet as those that bios
somed there. Then. perhaps, he sighs,
shakes on his reverie and resumes
his work.
Meanwhile that pathetic disease
called neglect" is eating into the
timbers Of the old house. Sometimes
the Rambler has felt that old houses
decay and collapse from broken heart, =
because the little children born in
them and reared in them have gone
away. The Rambler has come upon
many of these old houses in the years
that he has been walking the roads
and byways Of Maryland and Virginia.
Last Sunday the walk led past the
site Of Old Union Church, Bethel
Church. which stands beside that site,
And the farms which for generations
have been titled by the Smith and
Oliver families. This road, which
leads north from the Alexandra and