Evening star., 1918-07-07

a breach in the trees surrounding 1t
section of the low, sianting shingle
roof of the venerable house which
has been the Oliver homestead for
about century. perhaps century
and half. To the left, on the crest
of ridge and standing against the
skyline. could be seen small clump
Of trees In the midst of cultivated
fields, and through the foliage one
could get glimpse Of the monu-
ments that mark where many of the
Smiths and divers are at rest.
Taking up the march from this
was bordered by rail fences and cedar
trees. Far off on hilltop to the left
Is an old house kept young by good
care and compassed by garden in
which flowers bloom. but the lane
leading to 1t was long and there were
many miles to be covered before this
narrative could be brought to close.
On the right was a green meadow,
where several horses cropped the rich
clover in languid way and stopped
eating now and then to blow long
breath. as though they were full and
satisfied. The Rambler thought of
the city horses. wearing check reins,
blinkers and bits and pounding over
the hard streets all day without ever
knowing the joy of vacation in a
green pasture. BY the side of a mare
was little colt, all legs. as Is the
way with little colts and he was still
too new to life to use them well. He
seemed as proud of his dam as though
she had been a Derby winner. Near
this pasture was rural letter box.
inscribed. IN. T. Morris"
A few rods further on there showed
through the riffs in the trees that
fringe Difficult run the gray stone and
wooden walls of an old mill. Cross
ing the creek and turning of the road
to the left, path leads through
fiourishing patches of potatoes to
time-worn house close by the mill.
Two barking dogs greeted the Ram
bier and bade him halt. They were
kindly dogs. but their duty was to
challenge trespassers and give warn
ing that danger was nigh. After the
barking had continued a few minutes
a man came to the door and was
hastily putting on his other shoe. His
accent betrayed that he was not a
member of one of the first families of
Virginia. And. by the way, who ever
met a member Of one Of the second
families of Virginia? The Rambler
thought the man was German. He
said his name was Peter Hunstein.
and that proved it. But twas not so.
Hunstein wanted the latest news OF
the war, and after getting 1t from
The Star he began to express himself.
His pro-America anism was couched
in vivid terms that left nothing to the
imagination. He never acquired his
American anti-German vocabulary by
attending prayer meeting In Fairfax
county. Arnon Chapel. Salem Church,
Bethel, Andrew Chapel and the coiored
churches of Pleasant Grove and Shiloh,
all in that neiehborhood. have heard
ringing anti-German speeches. but
Peter Hunstein would have cracked
their plaster and shattered their
staned-glass windows. He was not
II German. but Dane. He had lived
down. by the mill a year, was not u
whit interested in its history and. in
sisted that the dairy barns and new
silos that could be seen from the place
We're very much more interesting than
played-out mills. Ancestors who
landed at Plymouth, jamestown and
st. Marys Gig were of so little in
terest to him that the Rambler did
not touch on the subject. Some time,
say two centuries hence, when. the
business secson of washington shall
he about where Briehtwood, Chevy
Chase or Tenlcytown stand now, some
other Rambler will alight from his
airplane driven by magnetism drawn
directly from the sun, the pole star
or other celestial source. and knock
on the door of n beautiful mansion in
Fairfax county. A stately woman,
after looking down on the poor worm,
will draw herself up to her extreme
height. initiate herself and say some
thing like this; MY family is one of
the oldest in this part of the coun-
try. My great great great -greatgraud
father. Peter Iunslein, came to
Virginia in the early part of the
twentieth century. taking up an inn
mcuSe tract on Difficult run under n
direct grant from the King of Dem
mark. who WAS n warm personal
friend of his. You see his portrait
hanging there. showing him wearing
the royal order uf the great Dane.
The portrait was the work of one
of those old masters of Washington