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L THE SUNDAY STAR, FEBRUARY 6, 1921—PART 4. g° wifty Shoots a Shadow “ AY, Shorty.” =a Swifty Joe, easin’ himself in from the £vm here the other afternoon and nudgin’ me in’ the rs. “There it is again.” shoulde “Eh?" says L still readin’ the sport- in’ notes fn a four-star-complete final evening extra. “The shadow on the door,” goes on . so it is” says I, twistin’ for a look at the ground- ass pane that separates my fropt ice from the second-floor landin’. says Swifty, h, what dream book did you dig says I. “Where do you that's all” he in- tell what'll come ‘You can't " s2ys 1. All the same, I couldn't help turnin' for another look. It's the shadow of a man’s head and face; a side view, sort of a silhouette. You could make out the slouch hat pulled down over the eyes and the chin lost in the coat collar. I must admit it ain't cheer- ful, even for a shadow. “'Spooky lookin',” adds Swifty. “But you know who is out there,” 1 tells him. “Yeauh," says he. “It's that sour- faced bird; Gloomy Gus, I calls him. He's waitin for that little dame that does typin’ in the Siebert offices on the next floor.” “Well, there you are,” says I. “How do you work up a jinx out of that?” Swifty shakes his head. “A shadow on the door ain't lucky.” he grum- bl T've allus heard that.” And he's an expert on the rules of luck, good and bad. Swifty i Knows ‘em all, from what happens if you lace up the right shoe first. to the awful fate that'll swamp you if You forget to cross your fingers and spit when You pass a cross-eved party. “Oh, come!" says I. “This has been going on nearly every night for a month now, and neither of us has been hit by a taxi or held up by & Yegg or anything like that. “Huh!" says Swifty. ‘Wasn't 1 “That would be one way of gettin’ it o ff_the door, Which gets ear, thoughtfu! . H i Swifty 1. Wlacena FRanT. Besides, wouldn't it?" scratchin® his he knows short-changed on the subway yester-|he ain’t so much on tidyin’ up. Course, day, and didn't 1 break my watch crystal last week. Ought to take it away, I tell you. “Well, that's simple, throw him down sta the light bulb. Or you might: ‘S-8-sh!” whispers Swifty, “It—it's comin’ this way Sure enough, the shadow has moved and is outlined sharp on the glass, as if the party had stepped across the hallway. Then there comes this timid knock. *“There!" gasps Swifty, turnin' pale in the gills. “Well, bring him in and let's see t he wants,” 5 save I. “Go W s and unserew | husky. I h broom around e mumbles. name? nett Blair. ot on your life,” say: don’t let in no bad luck. v “Then hide under the desk,” sa. “while I give him the hail. =ings out. And in steps thi son. It's a_good name for him. He's hopeless sag to his shoulders and a limp way of carryin' his long hands at his side. He has his coat collar turned up to hide a collar that's over. due at the laundry, and his old shoes are soggy from the outside slush. A ! regular down-and-out picture. “Well, bo,” says I, “what’ll it be?" For a second he stands there twitch- in’ his fingers nervous and tryin' to swallow his throat apple before he can get his conversation works un- limbered. But when he does he hands me a surprise. “I—I beg pardon,” says he, speakin’ it soft and genteel, “but I was won- dering if' you couldn’t give me—er— some sort of work to do” says I, starin’ at him. “Say, that’s a new one. Why, you'll be losin’ your-amateur standin’ in ‘the Pan- handlers’ Union., won't you, askin® for | anything like that?” He only shrugs his shoulders life. less. “I—I may look like a/bum,” says | every “Put it that way if vou like," “Yes, I think I'll give you a tr: Tl make it three dollars do a thorough job. “Blair,” says the seedy one. he makes a show of swishin’ mornin’, ‘What's the but {mostly he brushes the dirt into the corners or under the desk and lets it stay there until the scrub lady pay | her regular Saturday afternoon call. “If you want to buy off the hoodoo, ys I. and it “you'll your ‘Ben- “All right, Bennett,” says I. “Hand him the broom, Swifty. That is, it he wants to start in now. " says he, shuckin’ his “And I thank you very much comes a voice from the s Gloomy Gus per-|doorway. “You shall not! And when the three of us swings e slim, sallow-faced gink of about|around we see ‘this wispy little lady thirty, I should guess, with kind of'a|in the neat blue serge suit and the imitation fox furs'standin’ there with her big gray eyes blazin' indignant. ‘Well, who are you, miss " I asks. It doesn’t matter in the least who 'No?” says 1. ‘Because, “Indeed he I feotly splendid. I am.” says she, “but you shall not put Bennett to doing such work as that “Why not, then?" lifting’ her pointed chin deflant, ‘he—he’'s much too fine fo rthat sort of thing. ‘Oh, is he?” says I. says she, says she. “He's per. Bennett Blair is. He's brilliant and talented and—and a born gentleman. famous, too, some day, and everybody will : ‘Now, Edith! Blair. Please tens interestin'. noTet her go on and tell us all about it? reg’lar party of it. {lady a_chair. nett. No? like. says L going to be breaks in “Why Come in, “miss. agd we'll make a Swifty, get the Better take one, Ben- Very well. Stand if you But if this trade of ours is go- ) he. “but really, 'm not. T just took !in' to be quashed I want to know the a chance that perhaps you might have details. Now, Miss—er- kind of work that 1 could do wells or dustin’ the I suggests sarcastic as 1 Jooks him up and down. He takes that without an eye flicker. " “1I know I'm not very strong.” he, “but 1 could sweep or wash wir in for an hour o out this time every day and—er- can things up. 1 wouldn't ask much for it, say a couple of dollars u week.” He's 50 earnest about it, and there's such a meek, wistful look in them gentle brown eyes of his, that 1 was 2almost sorry I'd begun joshin' him. 1 have me come ows. | 1 didn't know but what you'd like to do toward hushin’ her up we did get solit straight from the shoulder. icordin’ to Miss Sheldon this young gent, whose back hair and shirt cuffs “I am Miss Sheldon, I “Thanks, Cabe, sa you Bennett is too good to sweep the | studio floor.” And say. in spite of all Bennett can | ! both needed tri | genius. mmi says she. “I'm Prof. Mc- can see on the door. Now ‘we're all set to hear about why s an unbudded “Piano, or violin?” I asks. ut I'd made two wrong guesses. “Yes,"” says I, has time writ one, o Play writin' was his line, ‘'most everybody who Ac- whether they know anything about it or not.” “But Bennett does know,” ists. ‘He -took- cours she in- at a l HOUDINIL, FIXED UP FOR ONE OF | nett. | ALL THE SAME. I COULDN'T HELP | She's a bright little part i{ TURNIN FOR ANOTHER LOOK. ferin’ to copy it for him on the type- writer. And 1 expect they got en- thusiastic over one another, though Wwhat either of ‘em could see was a mystery to me. Still, it generally is & puzzle to the outsider. Course, a 2 prisinly full of pep: and it no e spruced up a bit and could lift his ITS THE SHADOW OF A MAN'S | chin off his wishbone .he might look HEAD, SORT OF A SILHOUETTE. prsis it ——t S college to prepare for it and then he studied abroad, at Oxford and in Paris. He's written half a dozen plays, two of them In blank verse.” “Must have drawn his royalties in blank pay checks, too,” 1 suggests, ancin’ at him. “Of course they haven't been pro- duced,” she ‘ddll.l Sdol‘l’lla ol‘ !he'!ln were too original. too daring in con- ception. Like the work of Lord Dun- sany. fost of them, in fact, have never n submitted to a mai er. Bennett simply wrote what he wanted to write. That is, h id -until his mohey gave out. You see, he was left quite a sum by his father, who. wa college professor and had written books on the drama. Not 3 large amount, you know, but enough for him to live on for a long time, or un- til he became famo Bennett trusted it all to a lawyer, however, who was not honest. He"lost it in speculation, and one d‘y Bennett found himself with hardly' a dollar left. z “Huh!” says I.- “And he's been wan- derin’ around in a dase ever since, has he?" A “Certainly not,” says Miss Sheldon. “He tried to get on the stage, in a small part so that he could study the technique of the drama at close range. But he falled at that. he became a stage carpenter. Then last summer, when the theaters closed, he went out to Wisconsin and worked as a vt;‘al(ter in a country club. Think of that!” “I'm tryin’ to,” says I. “What kind of a waiter did you make, Bennett?” “Rather a poor one,” he admits. “While he was there, though.” says Miss Sheldon, “he got.the idea for this perfectly corking comedy which he has been trying to place this win- ter. It's a satire on country club life, and if you know what that is you know that there's nothing funnier— the clique spirit, the smobbishness, the petty rivalries b or's wife and the husband owns the big department store. Oh, it's all perfectly absurd and delicious. It's intensely native. too. Real American humor. And Bennett saw every bit of it and put it into ‘Dinner at Seven-Thirty. 1 hope you can see “Not much chanc: “But I know bette Sheldon. some one and put on. You see, Prof. McCabe, he has had such a wretched time trying to get his play read by these stupid producers. For five months he has been tramping around town, being snubbed by office boy: waiting for weeks for a decision. finally getting his manuscript HONEST, HE LOOKS HIS ACTS. without its ever having been opened. Naturally, he's discourages “I've good reason to be,” says Ben- “I'm a flat feilure, That play of mine can't be any g0od.” “You see!” says she, turnin’ to me. “And I am positive that it is the best American comedy ever written. I | typed it for him, and I've been over it so many times 1 almost know it by heart. There are some perfectly screaming situatlons in it. And such clever lines You're kind of interested in Ben- nett, I take it?” says L “Oh, yes,” says she. “You see, we's engaged o, , we're not,” comes in Bennett: ve released you from that. If I had made good- 3 “But you're going to,” announces | Miss Sheldon. iy He shakes his head gloomy. “Did | you get Slebert to read it today?” he 1 couldn’t manage it,” she ad | _“Then that's the last hope, | Bennett. “I might as well quit.” “And sweep floors!” says she. Bennet So It seems I'd stepped into this lit- tle romance of theirs just when it was turnin’ into e tragedy. It ain't much of a tale, at that. I could plece the whole thing out from their side remarks. It was a case of meeting over the prunes and coffee in a cheap ity says “‘Oh, boarding house, with him readin’ his play to her one evenin' and she of- | different. Them brow: w;:lkma of appealin’, S , “I'm_sorry, Edith,” says he, “but I'm flfl’lgg I'm just a plain failure.” lhl:l?othh'lt lt'(y:i she. “All geniuses 2 2 i - Shimeiits rst. Don't they, pro: +You can’t prove it by me," says I. o""flllzl'ynu kll:of' how it was in your reer, before you mad - ceuw"’ lllhe insists. H e o “Well.” I admits, “the night T went up against Battling Casey for the Il“hl'elghl championship I was feel. in® pretty low durin’ that hour's wait in the dressin’ room while the pre- liminaries was goin’ on. He had it Over me every way—weight and Inches and reach. T was almost an unknown, too. Why, the odds was a8 high as 10 to 3 against me, and When the gong struck for our first round my knees was wabbly. After d got home my first punch, though, it was different, and by the tenth 1 was rushin’ him to the ropes and pickin’ my time to put him, out.” “There!” says Miss Sheldon. “Tha always the way. Washington had his dark hours, Dickens nearly starved waiting to be recognized, Kipling couldn’'t find any one who would print his first ‘Barrack Room Ballads’ and published them at his own expense, and Augustus Thomas— well, I've forgotten just how many managers refused his early plays. As for this Siebert person, he's just Eot to read your ‘Dinnmer at Seven- Thirty’ He shall do it tonight.” ‘But——" breaks in Bennett. T know,” says Edith. “I’'ve been working in his office for nearly two onths now, trying to get him to Jdook at it, and he simply glares. To- day he threatened to discharge me if I mentioned it again. He would, too. So we'll just have to make him nll.g.l‘ 4 “Eh?” says I, lookin® a - T t her curi “He's “alone.” up there now,” says she, “I have a plan, she. need help. T wonder. professor - i you wouldn't lend & hand: . says I “I'e 0 almost any- O] Rgrouch, 2 plot of the piece? Pl But, say, for a meek-looking little wisp ‘like her, it was some scheme to think up. She sketches it out, though, like it wasn't anything out of the ‘ordinary. Tl admit she had me gawpin'. AS for Bennett, he fair- ly gasps when he hears the propo- sition. Edith! Tt's swee] 0 t, though, I expect we'd better take Switty: Jos llo_nr%;. too. “Then come,” says the little lady. Say, she was clear grit, -he.dvgu. She Ted the tiptoein’ procession up the stairs, and then, leavin' Bennett in the outside office, she opens the inside door gentle and makes the rush. he 1 e had that chief around ‘Slebert's eyes Lrgicers tied it scientific Spat daltng buk’“n under his bald Course, the old boy lets o - low and begins thrashin’ m':,'..; -‘,’f}h his arme, but Swifty and I were right behind her, each with .a couple of towels, and in no time at all we had his wrists and ankles anchored to different parts of the desk chair. Honest, he looks like Houdini fixed up up for one of his acts, only Sol, Sie- bert has too many stiff joints to wriggle out of the knots. gh*” says he, settlin’ back after a final tug. “You got me. But I don’t keep much money by me and I carry burglar insurance. Go on, you yeggs.” “Excuse me, Mr. Siebert,” Edith, “but you're not going robbed. It's only Miss Sheldon. ‘“Wha-a-a-at!” he bellows. ‘What do you mean by this? “Simply that I want you to listen to that play I've been telling you about,’ says she. “I have the author here and he— “Help! Murder!” howls strugglin® again to break loo: “Shut the doors, Bennett,” says Edith. nd really, Mr. Siebert, there's no use making such a fuss. Nearly every one has left the building. Shout if you wish, though. We'll wait until You're through.” “I'll—I'Il have you jailed for this!” he growls. “Possibly,” say§ Edith, calm and soothin’. “But you're going to hear Mr. Blair read his play first, so you n;.l(m as well make up your mind to that.” “I must he at the theater by 8§ o'clock,” he insists. “That's more than three hours from now,” saye she, “and Mr. Blair is quite fast reader.” “He can't read- anything to me, ever,” says Siebert. “How silly of you,” ¢'You can’t help yourselt. Gr-r-r-r!’ says Siebert. \“That doesn’t frighten me in the wst,” says Edith. 've heard that g:dwl a dozen timles a day for the last elght weeks. Are you quite through?” “No,’ ys Siebert. ‘“Very well,” says sh. wait, can’'t we, Bennett?" So while Swifty and I slips into the outer office and watches, chucklin’, Siebert fusses and fumes in the chair. ‘Il be late at the theater, I tell you,” he snarls. Not if you quiet down and pre- pare to listen to the best comedy written in years,” says Edith. “Bah!” snorts Siebert. But inside of three minutes he's changed his mind. “Let's hear the drivel and get it over with.” says he. ‘Come, Bennett,” announces Edith. ‘Mr. Siebert will hear your ‘Dinner says Slebert, ays Edith. “We can {An Early Discussion in the House of Representatives Regarding a Dam and Causeway. Something More About the Will of George Mason. First Reference in Maryland Records to Analostan Island. N this chapter of the history of Analostan Island it is meant to finish that part of the story which treats of the wills and be- Quests of George Mason and his sons to turn to the original grant of the island and to take up the subject of the dam and causeway between the island and the Virginia shore, the rocky relic of which causeway you see at low tide today. The story of that dam should be of interest. First, there i8'a petition to Congress signed by nearly all the property holders of Georgetown at that time, which was 1804: then, there was the discussion I of the measure in the House of Repre- sentatives, and there was the deed from John Mason. owner of the island to the corporation of Georgetown. The Rambler has not found the peti tion and would like it only for the list of signers. The discussion in the House of Representatives brings out plainfy the contents of the petition. The deed from John Mason, which is of record in the office of the recorder of deeds, gives information about quarries on the Virginia shore and a new town on and below the site of Rosslyn at the time the deed was passed, which was 1805. ‘The discussion in the House of Rep- resentatives shows what a muddle a plain proposition may be talked into. The dam and causeway were dis- cussed with heat and passion for days. Some members spoke in a com- mon sense way and the vote showed that a large majority understood that the dam was intended te benefit a great many persons and could not do injury to any one. Some of the con- gressional disputants thought it was one of the most momentous questions that had come before the Congress of the United States. * % * x ‘The question was whether the United States, Maryland or Virginia had juris- diction over the Potomac river, and this question was fought over with hours of rhetoric. Another phase of the ques- tion was, Whether Maryland and Vir- ginia, in ceding ten miles square of their domain to the United States, had sur- rendered their sovereignty over the Po- tomac river within the ten-mile square, and if they had surrendered such sover- eignty had_they the right to, or could they do so? John Randolph and many others insisted that Virginia had sover- eign rights over “Little river” between the island and the shore,"and that the citizens of Georgetown and the Congress of the United States had nothing to do with it. Some insisted that the dam and causeway from the island to shore, designed to deepen the channel of the Potomac, consti- tuted an obstruction to navigation. One strange feature in all this dis- turbance is that outsde of the House of Representatives there did not ap- pear to be a soul in the District, Mary- land or Virginia who felt or express- ed any opposition to the building of the dam. The only man who might be injured was Gen. John Mason, who owned the island and the Virginia shore, and he was an advocate of the plan. Some members of the House of Rep- resentatives seemed to bear a grudge against the citizens of Georgetown, because it seems that when the Po- tomac Great bridge, which we came to know as the Long bridge, was be- fore Congress in 1803 and 1804 cer- tain Georgetown citizens had made representation to Congress that the bridge would be an obstruction to navigation. And it was. A goodly proportion of the eakers against the dam and causeway project sneer- ed at the people of Georgetown for bringing such matters to Congress and trespassing upon the time of the representatives of the people, etc., and others responded that as the Constitution gave Congffess exclu- sive control over the District, and as these people had no self-represent: tion, they could go nowhere else than to Congress for relief. And so the war waged between master-minded representatives of the people over that poor little old dam, whose scat- tered rocks now lie between the is- land and the Rosslyn shore. But the subject of the Analostan dam and causeway will be fully treated later on in this chapter, if we can come to it, and if not, it will be continued in our next. The Rambler left off last Sunday in that part of George Mason's will — at Seven Thirty’ now. And I'm sure he's going to like it very much. Here's a chair for you, right in front of him. There! “Say,” Swifty whispers husky in my ear, “we ain't tied, are we? “Happy thought,” says I, and we slips out to the stairs and down to our own floor. “What'll she do, I wonder,” Swifty, “when he’s heard it all “Maybe it'll be worth being late é;l!:i‘:‘r ourselves to know,” says I. says to Swifty agrees that it would, so we camps down to wait. But it was quite a siege. Three times Swifty sneaks up and listens in. The first time he has nothing to report, except that the old boy is just breathin’ heavy. The second time his bulletin is more excitin’. “Whaddye know!" says he. havin' him go over part of it again. Later on Swifty comes down with @ grin on his face. “Say, Shorty,” he remarks, “there's some good gags in that piece. 1 heard one that was about a—no, 1 can't just get it. But it was comic, all right. Old Seibert Ilet out a chuckle himself.” “Huh!" says I else to do. though. It got to be 6 o'clock, however, and no action. Then half-past, and still no riot. Must have been near quarter of 7 when we finally hears heavy foot- steps on the stairs, and with the studio door open a crack we stretched our ears. “Well, you're a Slebert is sayin’, comedy there, Mr. Blair. Yes, yes, "1l put it on. T've got to, to be safe. Next time this young woman might take it into her head to chloroform me. Now let's go somewhere for a bite to eat and I'll give you a chéck for $500 in advance.” “Oh, you dear man'” T hears Edith murmur, gurgly, and as they passed tha door she was steerin’ Bennett's hand around her waist. “Don’t look, Swifty,” says I, “you might blush. “Ahr-chee!’ eays Swifty. *T've seen She's lifted the shadow off that's all T care.’ “She’s lifted the shadow off more’'n the door,” says I. (Conyright, JAL, P Sewell Yord.) By oo ; “He's gof nothing ‘Wait until he gets loose, r of highbinders,” enough. the doot ‘but you've got a 5 I £ where the testator recommended to his sons that they should prefer the happiness and independence of pri- vate life to the troubles and vexa- tions of public business. After that paragraph he writes: 1 release and remit to my brother. Mason, and his heirs a_certain debt of 310 pounds 4 shillings and 5% pence sterling, and 9 pounds 1 llings and 4 pence currency due me on account of money advanced for him many years ago, while he was in England, for which it was never my intention to make him answerable as will appear by my entry in my own Landwriting annexed to the account in my book. The testator said that Brother Thomson Mason was further indebted to him for a considerable sum on account of a protested bill of ex- change and a bond paid for him to his executors not to sue for the re- covery of that debt. He leaves 40 shillings to Mrs. Heath, wife of Thomas Heath of Stafford county, “in first cost- of goods, a year, during her life, to be laid out for her in necessaries_for her own particular use; and if her son, Mr. Richard Hewitt, “my old school fellow and acquaintance from my childhood days. - should unfortunately be re- duced to necessitous circumstances, I desire and direct my executors to supply him with necessaries for his sup- port and maintenance from my estate. * ok ok k Mason left mourning rings to the value of 3 gfiineas cach to John Mon- cure, Rev. Mr. James Scott, Rev. Mr. John West Jun and the Rev. Mr. Lee Massey. He bequeathed z suit of mourning to his cousin, Miss Bro- naugh, and one to Martin Cockburn. The will of Gen. John Mason, Who inherited Analostan Island from George Mason, was made June 14, 1847, and probated April 16, 1859. It is of record in the clerk’s office of the court of Fairfax county and in our own recorder's office, He jmakes no meption of Analostan Island and the inference the Rambler draws is that the island had passed from his possession many years be- fore that. ‘The Rambler has heard that there was a deed of. trust from Mason to the branch bank of the United States, and it is likely that the island passed out of the owner- ship of John Mason by the familiar route of trustee's sale. Gen. John Mason, in his will, calls himseif “John Mason of Clermont, Fairfax county,” and a picture of Clermont should embellish_the page, but the Rambler has not been to that farm. Mason bequeaths all his property to “his wife, his daughter, Catherine, and his sons, James M. Mason and Eilbeck Mason. That James M. Mason was Senator Mason, one of the figures in the Mason-Sli- dell-Trent-San Jacinto-Wilkes affair that threatened war between the United States and Great Britain, and James M. Mason will find a place in these little annals as the Analostan articles proceed. The will of Gen. John Mason was probated by James M. Mason, whose identification was lpruwd by the oaths of R. C. Mason and George W. Hunter. To his daugh- John 'Mason left a | slave,” Henry, and to his wife, a !slave, Alice, and the children of Henry and Alice, Sallie, Jen, Enoch and an unnamed infant. The will of Thomson Mason, son of George, was dated April 15, 1797, and probated in 1826, the witnesses to it being John Mason, Abediah Gar- nett, Samuel Lightfoot, David John- ston and William Griffith. Thomson Mason describes himself as of Hollin Hall, Fairfax county. He bequeathes to his beloved wife, Sarah McCarty Mason, during her life the mansion house, called Hollin Hall, and the land contiguous contained in the pat- ents to Thomas Stafford and Thomas Standiford, “and repatented by my father, Col. George Mason.” He enu- merates the property left him by his father, and these old place-names and names of persons were given by the Rambler in telling_the provisions of the will of George Mason of Gunston. He leaves to his wife the slaves, Jes- sle, Charles and Bob. sons of Old Let Cupid Will, son of Old Celia; Old Let, Old_Delia, Phillis, Mulatto Let. Old Nell and her daughter Nell Black Poll, Nan, daughter of Old Delia. Pamela; Alice, Robin and James and Jessie, the sons of Jennie. He also leaves to his wife “the black mare I bought of Baldwin Dade.” He men tions certain slaves whom he be. queathes to his ' daughters, Sarah Chichester Mason, Elizabeth’ Mason and Ann Eilbeck Mason. To his son, Thomson Mason, he leaves his gold watch, confirms to him slaves given him by his grandfather, Richard Chichester, and confirms to him the gift of a silver beaker given him by his grandfather, George Mason of Gunston Hall. He makes various be- quests to his sons, George William Mason, William Mason and Richard Chichester Mason. * ¥ k % The will of James M. Mason, United States senator and Confederate en- voy to Great Britain, was dated De- cember 21. 1869, and probated at the court of Fairfax county in 1871. He describes himself as of Clarens, Fair- fax county, and the Rambler believes that Clarens is somewhere west of Alexandria_in the vicinity of the Episcopal Seminary, but that is to be determined later. James M. Mason leaves Clarens “to my dear and ex- cellent wife and to my two daughters, Virginia Mason and Eliza (called Ida) Maso! His professional and political books he leaves to his sons, George Mason and James Mason. To his son John he leaves ‘such part of my miscellaneous library (not ex- cceding one-third), as he shall select. In a codicil he leaves to his son George “the silver bowl, ladle and stand. called ‘the Gunston punch bowl.’ and the writing traveling case, called a ‘dispatch box,’ given me by Alexander Collie of London, England.” To son James he leaves “the gold snuff box, given me by A. T. B. Bares- ford and Lady Mildred Baresford Hope of England, and one of my Colt's revolver pistols; to my son John, my platina snuff box and aneroid baro- meter, given me by Lady Mildred Baresford Hope; to daughter Virginla my gold pencil case having the crest, and to my daughter Ida the pencil case of aluminum metal, given me by Lady Donoughmore of England.” Col cluding the will, the testator writes: “To my daughter, Mrs. Dorsey (Kath- arine) (having. noy 3, te me~ N ter Catherine. Mr. Bronaugh's estate, and he directs | 2 . FAIRFAX COURTHOUSE. mento left). T give a mourning ring at her election of the value of §$25." These old wills are all amon the records of Fairfax county, and it was through the aid of W. Richard- son, clerk of the court, that the Ram- bler was cnabled to make extracts from them. Mr. Richardson has been clerk of the Fairfax court since 1880 and his father. the late F. D. Richard- son, was clerk of that court from 1830 to 18%0. F. W. Richardson’'s son, F. D. Richardson, named after his grandfather, I8 a practicing attorney in_the county. The first reference in the Maryland records to Analostan Island, by that name or any other is found in a grant issued “by ye Right Honorable Lord Proprietary Esquire,” July 21, 1680. This ancient paper was turned over to the Rambler by Commissioner James S. Shepherd of the Maryland land office at Annapolis; Arthur Trad- ér, the chief clerk, and Edward Phelps, one of the antiquarians of that office. The Rambler copied it as follows: . “In obedience to & warrant from His Lordship bearing date of the 21st of July, 1680, granted unto Captain Ran- dolph Brandt of Charles County upon a petition of the aforesaid in humble manner, certifies that Richard Edelin, deputy surveyor for St. Mary's City under the Honorable Vincents (?) Lowe, Esquire, surveyor general of this Province, and in reference to a warrant granted the said Brandt bear- ing date of the 27th day of April last past for 200 acres of land, have laid out for the said Brandt one certain parcell of land being an island lying in the Patomack River near the falls of said river over against Rock Creek in Charles County commonly called or known by the name of the Anna- lostian Island containing by estimate 75 acres more or less to be holden of Zackiah Mannor called Barbadoes. Certified this 29th day of April Anno Domini 1682. (signed) RICHARD EDELIN.” ERE ‘Why this island should be *“holden of Zackiah Mannor,” the Rambler cannot yet fathom. Zackiah Manor was created in 1667, and included Zackiah swamp, at the head of the Wicomico river. Brandt was not the grantee of that manor. Why the old grant should read *“Zachia Mannor called Barbadoes” is another nut. The grant to Zackiah Manor does not men- tion it by any other name. However, this may be cleared up later. At some time the island of Analostan was called Barbadoes. George Mason, in his will written in 1773, says that he leaves “my Island in the Patomack River opposfte the mouth of Rock Creek which I had under a patent from the Lord Proprietary of Mary- land by the name of Barbadoes” to his son, John Mason. Mason’s patent was probably a repatent to that island, and he chose the name Barba- does for some reason we do not know. There was to the Ramblers knowledge at least one ownership of the island between Brandt's pat- ent and the birth of George Mason, and the record of that ownership is in the courthouse at Marlboro and will be brought out in due course. It may be that the second, or subse- quent, owners intervening between Brandt and Mason named the island Barbadoes, but we will get to that before we get through. There is something about this name Barbadoes in its relation to the Dis- UNDREDS of swords carried by Americans of military fame rest in the National Museum, and they are among the at- tractions that hold the attention of visitors. They are among the ex- hibits which strangers come upon on entering the old museum building through the main entrance. The swords are exhibited in connection with thousands of other relics of big glass cases in a way that makes them especially conspicuous. From the opening until the clos- ing of the doors of the great museum a group of persons may be found around the relics of Gen. U. S. Grant. Here are a number of swords, most of them of magnificent workman- ship. One is the sword of Donelson, which was presented to Gnn:} in na, 1L, by G. W. Gra- ;rxaenl\, .(‘1 Glcl‘:rch, C.” W. Lagow and John Cook. It is a straight blade and is the sword which Grant usu- ally carried in the field. Below it is the sword of Chattanooga, which was presented to Grant by the citl- zens of Jo Daviess county, IiL On one part of its shining surface is inscribed, “To the hero of Missis- sippi,” and on it are also inscribed names of various battles of the Mexican war in which Grant took part, and also some of the great ac- tions of the civil war. Next to it is a magnificent sword called New York sword.” It was presented to Grant by his friends, through g: Wi Metropolitan Fair in aid of United States at New York, other sword is called sword,” and the legend attached to it says that it was presented to Grant in 1876 “by the Spanish re- public. In _an adjacent case is a service sword ‘“carried by Gen. Fred- erick D. Grant throughout the war with Spail he Porto Rico cam- paign in 1898, the Philippine cam- paign of 1898 and the Philippine in- surrection, 1899-1903." The swords of Gen. George B. M Clellan are there. Among them is a dress sword presented to him in rec- ognition of his services in the Mex- ican war. There is the service which McClellan carried through the clvil ‘war. Among the number of interesting McClellan swords is one that was presented to him by the citi- zens of Boston in 1864. Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman is_represented by his service sword ‘which he carried in the ANALOSTAN Ty ea; Igrants to the Queen and_Fenwick Famous Swords Contained in National Museum Exhibit gallant men, but they gleam in the | By Sewell Ford| LHE RAMBLER 'WRITES SECOND ARTICLE OF HIS HISTORY OF ISLAND i trict of Columbia which is confusing. This confusion, no doubt, arises from the fact that not all the papers in the case of Barbadoes have been preserved. A grant of 5300 acres was made to Col Henry Darnall October 7, 1684, and he named it Bar- badoes. That tract was on the west side of the Eastern branch and could not have extended as far west as Agalostan Island, because tracts pat- ented at an earlier date, Pope’ patent, called “Rome,” on which the Capitol stands, and Ninian Beall' patent, called Beall's Levels, on which The Star building stands, in- tervened and antedated Barbadoes. Brandt's patent was certified two years before Darnall’s patent of Bar- badoes. Barbadoes was on the west- ern side of the Eastern branch and called for 5.200 acres. If the Ram- bler remembers, 640 acres make a square mile, and there were then more than eight square miles of land in that patent of Barbad That grant clearly lay along the Eastern branch, probably underlying Cottage Hill, old Graceland cemetery, Mount Hamilton, Mount Olivet cemetery, Mount Lincoln and on to Bladen ourg, other very old Beall grant, and there wq ly families in that region. But what would life be worth if we didn’t hav some problems now and then to give us pause? * X % % In the land office at Annapolis is one record that Isazars (?) Evans of Calvert county had bought 250 acres from Col. Henry Darnall, being part of 5,200 acres granted to the said Col. Henry Darnall the 7th day of Octo- ber, 1684. To Evans s transferred 11 that tract and part of land call- ed Barbadoes, lying in Charles county on the western shore of the Eastern branch of the Potomac river, begin- ning at a marked white oak for the length of 500 perches to marked oak then northeast for a length of 80 perches, to marked hickory, then south southeast 500 perches to mark- ed poplar, then in a straight line 20 the first bounded tree.’ Considerably later @ man buys 103 acres, which is set forth as “all that tract of land called Barbadoes. In the Maryland land office is this old paper, bearing date of April 12, 1714: “By virtue of a warrant granted unto James Moore of Prince Georges county for 103 acres of land dated the 14th day of October, 1713, I have surveyed for the said Moore all that tract of land called Barbadoes lying in the said county on the west side of the north branch of the Eastern branch of Patémack river, bounded follows: Beginning at two bound black oaks and two bounded poplars standing on the said branch side, c, eta, “containing as laid out about 150 acres of land more or less, to hold of the manor of Calverton.” (Signed) Clement Hill, surveyor for Prince George county. “The north branch of the Eastern branch” was not doubt what we know as North- west branch, and the part of Bar- badoes surveyed for James Moore in 1714 would seem to underly the part of Brentwood-Mount Rainier neighborhood. paign, and by a gold-mounted jeweled sword presented to him in recognition of his service in the bgt- tle of Shiloh. Gen. Judson Kilpat- rick is represented by several sworés. Two of them are particularly B~ orate, one having been presented Ly the Fire Zouaves of New York aity in 1864 and the other by the officers of the 3d Cavalry Division, Military Division of the Mississippi, n 1869. A very beautiful sword is that which belonged to Gen, Hancock, and which was presented to him by the 69th Regiment, New York Nationat Guard, at the Yorktown centennial, 'n 1881. His plain service sword is Be- side it. No sword in the collection is mgru beautiful or more brilliant with dia- monds and gold than that presented to Admiral John W. Philip by the school children of Texas, through dime contributions. It is easy to re- call that Admiral Philip commanded the old battleship Texas in the rup~ ning fight with Cervera’s fleet. Among the relics of Admiral Schlgy are a gold-mounted sword presen! to him in 1899 as past regent of Far- ragut Council, 660, by the councils and members of the Royal Arcanum; Templar of Fort Smith, Ar] gold-mounted sword presented people of Pennsylvania after the Span- ish war. Among the swords are those that belonged to Commodore Stephen De- catur, Gen. Alexander Macomb, Gen. Rufus King, Gen. James Shields, Gen, George W. Morgan, Gen. James Birds- eye McPherson, Gen. Gabriel Rene ugustin G. Tassin, Gen. sanitary commission April 23, 1864, An-|Admiral il “the Spanish vy, J. Garesche Ord ( Juan Hill), Lieut. Jonathan Cilley, Capt. James T. Ord, Lieut. les R. Carville, Col. Emeric Szabad, Gen. John A. Halderman, Gen. Marcus La Rue Harrison, Lieut, Samuel Howard and Capt. Charles O. Collins. In one of the relic cases is a small gold buckle, about one inch wide and inch and a quarter long, with about six inches of narrow black rib- bon through it, the ribbon be! em- broidered with blue violets. for- It is a gold watch slide owned D!‘OGGI. Phn smm and was £ uE e