Evening Star Newspaper, January 22, 1922, Page 61

‘Mary of the Brave Eye THE ‘SUZNDAY -STAR, WASHINGTON, D. 0., JANUARY 22, '1922—PART 4. INEZ had been out scouting & job in some 5th avenue department store and when she blew into the studio panting and excited I thought she must have landed some- thing big. But it seems she was worked up over something else. “Trilby May,” shys she, as she eases herself into a chair, “who you think I see just now by 34th street?” “Judging by the wild look in your eyes,” says I, “it must have been Mary Pickford herself, or maybe Bill Hart and his bride. Whbich was it?” “No,” says Inesz, scorning to notice any trivial cracks end sticking right to the point. “It's that Mary Mc- Gucken.” “Eh?* says I. “McGucken? Sounds faintly familiar, but I don't place the name at all. Go on, though; you've sold it to me. Who was Mary “Aw, you know,” says Inez. “She was head waitress in Druot’s by Du- juth, when we first go there to work. And then she get wmarried. That one with the brave eyes.” ~ And of course, after an adjective like that, I couldn’t help but remem- *ber. Inez had always called them brave eyes, in spite of my trying to tell her the word couldn’t be used in that way. She'd won out, too, for 1 was finally forced to admit that Miss McGucken’s eyes were just that. Not bold, or starey, or simply wide set. That didn't describe ‘em. They were brave eyes. There was courage in them—a hard, desperate glitter in their clear depths that couldn’t be mistaken, once you Kad seen it. * ¥ kK PEBHAPS that's why she was head to jump waitress in Druot’s, why we used to our work when she snapped her fingers, and why old man Druot never dared bawl her out when te came down witk a Monday morn- ing grouch and growled at everybody else, including Madame Druot.. They were blue eyes, incidently; Irish blue, with heavy black lashes. Beyond that there wasn't much about Mary McGucken to impress or attract you. At least, I could remem- ber her only as a rather slim, dark- halred, snub-nosed girl with a wide mouth and eyebrows that ran to- gether. She had looked fairly well in her black work uniform with the white.apron and cuffs, but in her dress- up Sunday clothes she had been far ‘grom a home wrecker. About as plain as they run, if you ask me. “Let's see,” says §, “didn’t she mar- Ty a soldier?” . « Inez nods. “A rainbow sergeant that got medal in France,” she adds. “Lot in the papers about him when he comes back; how he drives ammuni- tion truck up to gun battery that the Germans thought they'd cut off. He gets hit, tos, that Mr. Slattery; once in shoulder and once in right hand. ‘but that don’t stop him. And when he brings in ammunition them Ger- mans get it In the ueck. Brave feller, that Sergt. Slattery. They fix him up in the hospital and he comes home with red stripes on his arm. You know. Didn't we all stand in front and wave when he comes back that time? “You're right, Inez,” says I “I get the whole picture now. And Miss Mc- Gucken had been engaged to him all along. They got married right away after the parade and she left Druot's. But didn’t he lose his job, or some- ure!” says Inez. “Anyway, he don't have the one he had when he 0 to war, because he was bartender, | 5 vie v wag I 4 «I HAD A TALK WITH DANNY NEXT DAY AND I TOLD HIM A FEW THINGS. GOOD AND SICK OF SLINGING HASH.” I LET HIM KNOW I WAS thick eyebrows had been revised into done to her complexion. sure no one but Mary McGucken could 1y that shade of blue eyes. * ok k¥ O after the first curtain I called in one of the girl ushers and sent out a note inviting Mr. and Mrs. Slat- tery to join me back stage at the end of the performance, if they cared to. Well, it seems they did. In fact, they appeared quite thrilled when they were towed into ruy dressing room. Especially Mary. “You don't mean,” says she, “that this is the same Trilby May I used to boss around at Druot's?” “Not quite,” says 1. “If we're real live ones we don't stay just as we were, do we?" “No, of course not,” says she. “But— but however did you manage ‘Working up to be a leading lady, I mean?’ “I didn’t,” says I through the roof.” And then I had to tell her how it was, while I was wobbing a manager trying to place Parry Platt's play. that I got to knov Ames Hunt and was shunted into the part of The Flapper when the society person he'd picked for the role had failed to make good. She was real sweet about it, Mrs. Said she'd always “I crashed in and while he's gone we get Prohibi-lynown I was much too good for Dru- tion. But he'’s such a smart feller and l 5i's or even Duluth, and that she was such a hero and all he thinks he'll Bet | 4;0y1eq to pieces to find that Id really something better to do. He don't, though. Nor he ain’t got much money got somewhere. “Same to you, Mary.,” says I “I left. I heard the girls talking. TheY|gpou1d say you'd landed on the cush- said him and Miss McGucken had to o live in one little room. Then they move away and I don't hear about ions yourself.” She turned on me sudden at that, and the hard glitter came into her ‘em any more untll I meet her to-|plye eyes. Only for a second. Then day.” “Well, T hope she’s not 1ooking for | mink scart and laughed. she shrugged her shouuders under her “Me!" says work in New York now,” says L “Ifspe «Oh, that's different.” she is she's up against it.” “Her!"” says Inez. “Say, you oughta ne ow do you mean, ought to see?” 1 demands. * x k% .« 'n _everything. Uh-huh! Like rich lady. Ridin’ in automobile. too, with 1ittle Chinese dog. And Mr. Slattery dressed sporty in coonskin coat smok- in’ big cigar. Say!” “You don’t mean it?" says I “Well, that's good mews. I'm glad some- ‘body’s prosperous these times. How do they get that way?" Inez shakes her head. “I dunno,” she says. “I don't like to ask.” “No,” says 1, “one doesn’t. Not right oft the bat. But what are they doing here?” h, just buyin’ things. and livin' at big hotel, and goln’ to shows,” says Ine:. . “Wha-a-t?" says I. “Miss McGucken splurgif around New York like one of the oily rich! &nd a little over two years ago she was on the rocks in Duluth! Listens a bit like a tale from the Aquarium. Sure it wasn't some other party you saw, Inez?” “Don’t I talk to her,” demands Inez, “and get introduce to Mr. Slattery? How would she know me if she was somebody else?” “But do you mean,” I goes on, “that she doesn’t throw out a single hint as to how she comes by all this mag- nificence: no clue, no explanation?” Inez says she didnt offer a word. “Then you're a wonder, Inez.” says 1. “For I'm sure I should have jabbed in a question or two, even if I was snubbed for it.” “Maybe,” suggests Inez, “she finds rich uncle.” “Oh, come!” says L “Just because that happened to you once is no sign that it's common. Anyway, you might have asked. Didn't she say anything more?" “she asks about you,” says Inez, “and when I tell her you're a talk ac- tress she asks where your show is and say she and Mr. Slattery must go see it tonight.” “Then trust me,” says I “If I can " locate her out front I surely will ‘make a’ stab at clearing up this mys- tery. Tonight, eh? I'll have my eye at the peep hole.” e You can bet I did, too, for I'm just as curious as the uext one. And you know what a small auditorium we have down at the Village Playhouse. 1f it wasn't small “The Prince and the Flapper” would have closed its run long ago. Yet at 8:30, when nearly every seat was filled and I had been' watching until my neck ached, I couldn’t find any one_in the audience tha, reminded me of Mary McGucken. - I ‘'was just about giving up, too, when I spotted this young lady in left K who was turning in her seat-to give the house the double O. And I caught a glimpse of those brave eyes under the brim of a sippy feather lid. Other- wise I'd never have recognized her. Absolutely no. For the dark hair had been treated to a henna wash, the That's all she sald, and it didn't help much. As for the ex-sergeant, he hardly opened his mouth. Not such an imposing person, Mr. 8lattery, even in his sporty clothes You'd hardly pick_him out as a hero. True, there RESSED swell,” says Inez, “furs| was quite a firm set to his rugged chin, and in spite of his being so fussed at finding himself for the first time in an actress’ dressing room, I caught an ‘occasional bold flicker in his look. Mainly, $hough, he sat and watched wifle with a &teady admira- tion. It was plain enough who his heroine was, even though they had been married long enough for him to get over it. Also it was clear that Mary wasn't going to volunteer the story of her it?} pencilled curves, and she'd had things | I throws in. Yet I was|they can’t keep down. Eh?” “And a go-getter, too, I should say,” “Ove of the kind that Mary indulges in another shoulder have just exactly that look in precise- | hunch, but lets it go at that. So I shifts a bit. “Nearly had you two out for a while there, didn’t they, though?” I asks. “Just after you were.married. “I'll say they did,” says Mary, 'snap- ping it out bitter. “Kind of rough going for a month or so, wasn't it?" I adds. “Huh!” says Mary. “For nearly a year. Say, I didn’t suppose two able- bodied persons who weren't solid above the ears could come 8o near starving right among a lot of people who let on to be their friends. But that's what happened to us.” 0!” says 1. “It wasn't that bad, was it?” “I don’t know what else you'd call it,” says she. “Ons. week all we had was a hunk of smoked fish and a loaf of stale bread, and those I went out and got myself with the last two bits we had between us. Ever try that diet for a whole week?" “But—but what was the matter with Danny?”’ I demarded. “Flat. * ¥ X X «[E was down,” says Mary. Just plumb discouraged. And it wasn't his fault, e‘ther. Maybe you remember what a fuss they made over him when he first came back—the pa- rades, receptions, pieces in the paper, and all that. ‘Sergeant Dan. Slat- tery, the hero who grinned at death and saved the day.’ That was what they printed under one of his pic- tures. But when he, went around to Hoffman's to ask for his old job there was nothing doing. No, they had a girl with bobbed hair behind the soft drink counter. prohibition hadn't left them any use for a high-priced mixer and there was ' no other place open. Perhaps if he'd call on some of the big guns who helped put it over they'd fix him up. “So Danny started calling. He made out a list from the names on the re- ception committee, men who ought to know who he was and what he'd done. They were the leading mer- chants and manufacturers, who should have had jobs if any one had. Did they rush out and grab him by the hand, lead him into their private offices and put him on the pay roll? They did not. They kept him warm- ing benches in waiting rooms or standing in line odtside the factory gates. Sometimes a private secre- tary or a foreman's clerk wrote his name on a waiting list and told him he’d be sent for if he was wanted. ‘Well, he wasn't sent for. And when life offhand. So I suggested that they | he took to tramping around on his both come home-with me for a little ; ©Wn hook he had no better luck.” supper and a chat. “Not much!” says Mary. “This is Danny’s blow. He's going to take us to some swell place for a real feed, Eh, Danny?” “You've said it, Kid,” agrees Mr. Slattery. “How abdout the Plutoria roof?” “Oh, not for just me,” I protestea. “Why not some quiet, simple place like Tortoni’s, where they don't take it away from you with both hands? ‘You haven't been at Tortoni's? Well, you should go.” * x x % SO we did, and when they'd sampled hors d'oeuvres and the spaghetti Milanaise they were glad they had come. ‘Some joint!” admits Mr. Slattery. “Nothing like this in Quebec, eh, Kia?” The glance he got from Mary for that remark seemed to tint up his ears and for a few minutese after that Danny was distinctly uneasy. I could have followed it up if I'd want- ed to, but I merely stowed it away and said nothing. Soon after, while we were having coffee and cigarettes and watching the jazzers on the danc- ing surface, Danny began staring at a party across the room. “Well, what is it now?” asked Mary. “If it ain’t Tunk Mason, I'm blind in the eyes,” declares Danny. “You remember my tellid’ you about him, Mary? That Milwaukee swell who was one of my cofporals in the old company? Sure #t's him! And all flossed up in a wide open vest and pearl studs! Gee!: I wonder would he know me?” “Nobody'd pinch you for asking him, would they?” suggests Mary. Having been prodded like that Dan. ny could do no less than take a chance with his old buddy.._We watched him being pounded on the back and urged into a vacant chair. And it was while the reunion was under way that Mary and I got con- fidential. Yes, I rather gave her the cue. “You're in luck all right, Mary,” says 1. “He strikes me as a regular fellow, your Danny.” “He's as good as they come,” she admita, . i “Yes,” says I. about that time. “For- all but the slackers who'd jumped into the places left open when Danny and the rest were over fighting the Germans,” says Mary. “They held on, those birds did. And inside of a couple of months this hero business was old stuff. I couldn't seem ‘to fit in anywhere, either. Druot wouldn't take me back, and at the other places they gave me the same tale—laying oft people, not taking ’em on. Come around again in a few weeks. So I hocked my wrist watch and rings, and Danny most of his clothes, and we found a cheaper room down in the west end. I expect we'd been there yet, or else planted underground, if Danny hadn’t had word from this cousin of his in Buffalo that he could get him in a cargo trimming gang on a grain boat. Can you guess how we got to Buffalo?* T couldn’t. “Hopping trucks,” says Mary. “A lot of ex-heroes were driving long- distance motor trucks and when they'd spot Danny's they’d give ‘us a lift, sometimes stake us to a feed. Anyway, we got there, and Danny got to earning wages again. I managed to find a place in quick lunch joint, too. So that's how we got on our feet again.” “I see,” says 1. “But listen, Mary; that hardly accounts for the mink throw scarf and—all the fest.” . 0. “business was slack €NJO,” says she. “It doesn’t. But belleve me, * what we've got ‘wasn't wished on ug by the citizens of a grateful ‘country. I guess it's the same all the world over. But I know this: Here in the dear old U. 8. A. you gotta get out and grab what you want. Nobody's giing to hand you anything on past performances. 'It's a case of crash in and take it away from somebody else. If you can't, you can go hungry; if you can, you're a winner. Took me over a year to get that through my head, and then—well, ‘we're winners.” “But how?” I asked. % “Oh, what's the Nifference?” says Mary. “Do you know, Trilby May, you're the first one that's asked that question, Everybody else seems sut< They were sorry, but | isfled when we show 'em that we got it, from head waiters up. Look at Dan- ny over there, chumming with those Philadelphia swells All they needed was a glance at his expensive outfit to know that he belonged. Same with your friend Inez, waen I met her this afternoon. So let's forget the de- tails.” “Oh, come, Mary!” says I. “What's the use. You've told me most of the story. Why stall around? I've given you all my tale. Now where did you make your strike? What's your line, anyway?" g She bites her lip for a minute, and I thought she was going to continue the clam act. Then all of a sudden she throws up her chin and levels those brave blue eyes straight at mine. “All right, Trilby May,” says she. “I can trust you. Besides, it doesn't { mattér down here. But finally Danny lgot a job driving a gasoline truck. And then he met another Rainbew Division sergeant who'd joined the state troopers and was being sent with a squad to patrol the Canadian {border. You knuw—watching for booze runners. Well, hearing those jtwo chin all one evening got me thinking. This buddy friend had a lot of dope on the business. He i knew just where the runners got the j stuff up across the line, how they got {it over, and what it brought on this jside. He told of one bunch that had cleaned up ten thousand aplece in a few months, starting with a couple of hundred dollars zapital. That was enough for me. Danny next day and I told him a few | things. I let him know I was good jand sick of slingirg hash in hot-oft joints and having \im do a fourteen- jhour trick for poor pay. ‘Why pass jup the easy money? I asked him. ‘Didn’t they hang a medal on you for j taking a chance over there? And you | claim you got a thrill out of the work. | Well, why not cash in on some of that ]tulnlns?‘ And you bet it didn’t take Danny long to see the point.” “Wha-a-at?" says I, smothering a ! gasp. “You didn’t start in running?” * X k% (YATE sure did,” says she. “On foot at first, with what we could save from two weeks' pay. My being along made it a cinch. A couple of honey- moon trampers, we passed for; but when we wandered back across the line after dark those knapsacks of {ours were full up. Danny didn’t have to hunt arounad for customers, either, to double and tretle his money. Of course we were pikers. Not for long, though. Inside of a month we'd made enough to buy an old touring car I'd had my eye on. The old bus wasn't much to look at, but after Danny'd finished grinding the valves and fit- ting some new piston rings she was right there with the speed. And, with eight or ten cases in the tonneau, that's what you reed. . Say, do you know what Uncle Sam mounts his en- forcement agents on? Flivvers! Ain't it a joke?” “Mary McGucken!” says I, staring at her. “You don't mean to say you go with him on—on these excur- sions?” ‘ “Think- I'd send Danny out to do Something I wouldn't try myself?” says she. “Say, I'm not that kind. And after I'd been on one I wouldn't miss being along for a peck of pearl ropes. It's the greatest outdoor sport on the card. Talk about getting a kick out of life! Running through a squad of troopers will hand it to you, if you've got the nerve.” “Don’t they sometimes shoot?" asked. “Don’t they?” says she. “You ought to see the mud guards and tonneau back of that old boat. We have to plug up bullet holes after nearly 1 I old uniform ! every trip. But‘we don't let ‘em-have the shooting all on one side. They've found out I can work an automatic at seventy miles an hour, and that sort of discourages 'em from getting too intimate. That reverse search- light that Danny fixed up to throw behind doesn’t help ’em, either, and the bullet-proof shield we can ralse at our backs is more or less of a comfort when an ambitious motor- cyclist cuts in with a .48. sow tacks for those birds, unless I have the luck t@ wing ‘em.” I'll admit that by this time I was looking bug-eyed st her. “But—but Mary,” I protests, “all that sounds very much like crime.” “Maybe it is,” says she, with a care- less hunch of her shoulders. “They're calling lots of things criminal that used to be perfectly all right. Any- way, Danny and I have found a wayy to duck starving.” An the next morning Inez wants to know if I saw Miss McGucken at the theater. “Oh, yes,” says L “She was lookin’ swell, eh?” says Ines. °, 2 = ? ““Absolutely,” says L’ I had a talk with| I have to] s—By Sewell Ford|THE RAMBLER MAKES A SHORT JOURNEY TO OLD BLADENSBURG AND VICINITY T was a genlal Sunday for January, but the roads wers muddy and.a pair of polished shoes would have been unpolished in that brief space which we boys used to describe as ‘no time.” To save his shining shoes and otaerwise to conserve his comfort, the Rambler settled upon a short walk ‘which would involve little leg work and yet furnish enough material for a story. Leaving the electric car before it reached Hyattsville, he cut across lots to Bladensburg, and in a few minutes ‘was in the main north-and-south street of the old town. There are two main streets. That whica runs north and south is the Washington and Baltimore boulevard, and that which runs east and west {8 Sand street. The latter, now an automobile way, leads over Lowndes hill and eastward. About three miles out of Bladensburg this road, which is one of the old higahways of Maryland, branches, the right fork crossing the Baltimore and Potomac railroad at Ardwick and the left fork going on another mile and crossing the rallroad at Lanham: Two or three hundred yards west on’ Sand street a road strikes to the right, or to the south, skirts the base of tae first hill east of the boulevard and up which part of the village of Bladensburg has climbed. This road leads south for a short distance, turns east and then forks. The left fork leads on to Land- over, where it crosses the Baltimore and Potomac and continues to Brifat- seat, where it enters Sheriff road. The right fork leads south to Chesapeake Junction, Benning and Twining to Ana- costia. At Bladensburg there is another road which leads north along the base of the majestic ridge which from the east overlooks the wide valley of the upper Eastern branch. These are not all the roads leading out of Bladens- burg and they were bullt before the city of Washington was planned on paper. And they were not built to lead out of Bladensburg, but to lead into it, for Bladensburg was an importarit place and a town of ripe age when the United States was born. Tt was the “metrop- olis” to use an overworked word, for the western part of Prince Georges county and the eastern part of Frederick coun- ty, which at the time of the breaking out of the American revolution, was erected as a coufity of the name Mont- gomery. A‘l‘ Bladensburg were wharves, and it was not many years ago that one might see relics of them in the back lots and meadows bordering the Eastern branch. which at Bladens- burg is a small stream, comparable in water volume with Rock creek. Per- | haps some of the rotting and nearly burfed timbers of these old wharves may be found at Bladensburg today. I do not know. Seagcing vessels came up to the wharves of Bladens- burg, but you should bear in mind that two hundred years ago there were many vessels, principally brigs and brigantines, of small tonnage and shallow graft, sailing between FEurope and America and the North Amerl- can colonies and the West Indies. When one speaks today of “seagoing vessels” one is apt to envisage full- rigged ships with spars as high up as royal and top roval. gallant and topgallant and skysail vards on the fore, main and mizzen: bowsprit, jib- |boom ana fiving jib-boom and jibs {flying from the stavs as far out as; the skysail stay. Perhaps also when Ionp sDeaks of “seagoing vessels” you think of big barks and barkentines and great schooners with four to six or even seven masts. Some of you ‘may conjure up the image of a glant steamship. But these were not the classes of “seagoing vessels” that came up the creeks and estuaries of the Potomac three hundred. two hun- dred and a hundred and fifty years ago. The good ship Arke. which brought to. Marylapd the first com- pany of gentlemen adventurers andl servants “to the number of neere| 200 people.” was a craft of only 300! tons, and this craft “was attended by his lordship's pinnace, called the Dove, ¢f about 50 tunme.” Whether these were tons burthen or tons dis- placement I do not know, but when I tell you that those old Potomac steamboats, the George Law and the Mattano, were of about 300 tons displacement and the Jane Moseley and the George Leary of seven or eight hundred tons you will understand how small were the “seagoing vessels” in which the Maryland colonists made the voyage. It is’ true that the Eastern. branch and all the other tidal estuaries of the Potomac have greatly shoaled since “seagoing vessels” came up our creeks- to old towns, such as Bladensburg, ' Piscataway and Dum- fries. The wash from the hills has been filling in the waterways for thousands of years, and this has been going on at a great pace since.white men came and cut the timber from the hilisides and plowed the slopes and floors of the valleys. There were water mills at Bladens- burg and a number of them along Northwest branch, which joing’ the Eastern branch at the old town. There were inns at Bladensburg and also the stores of merchants who were rich and influential and whose names were familiar to your ancestors—that s, if your ancestors lived in Mary- land; and it is a famiilar fact that a large percentage of our District pop- ulation is of southern Maryland de- scent. The town of Bladensburg was lald out some time about 1742. That is a guess. I have not found the act of the Maryland legislature creating this town and naming the commissioners who had authority to lay out streets, gell lots and do many other things. But Bladensburg was named after Thomas Bladen, and the probabilities are strong that it was so named when Bladen came to the notice of the peo: ple of Maryland as one of the line of royal governors, a line which extend- ed from 1692 to 1774, or 1776, if you are going to debate about the conflict between the claims of Robert Eden, the provincial convention and the Maryland council of safety. Thomas Bladdn was governor from 1742 to 1747, and I am making the guess that the town of Bladensburg was author- ——————————— * ok ok % i that way?” insists Ines. “There are times, Ines” says I, “when I prefer not to think. T take an)ther cup of coffee instead.” ‘(Copyright, 1922, by Bewsll' Ford) po e et AR GRS I T Bl B S B sl I et oo F o R il lad o lla SRR S o B8 T U ol e R e e . S SR L R U Affairs — The ARTISTS PAINTIN 1S A ized by the legislature about the be- ginning of his term of office. Few royal governors were so popular to- ward the close of their term of of- fice as to have towns named for them. * k x x IT is a strong probability that there ‘were mills, inns and stores at this point on the Eastern branch and that it was a place for transatlantic ship- ments before a town was laid out and named Bladensburg. It was custom- ary to start a town where business had already begun. It was not cus- tomary to start a town with the ex- - OOKING Backward to Time When the Town Was Very Important in American Old Wharves — Few Facts About Origin of Bladensburg and When the Town Was Laid Out— Concerning Gov. Bladen—A Meeting With Well Known Artists. pectation that business would come to THE RO! it, though this was sometimes done, and more often in Virginia than in Maryland. Perhaps we may find that before the town of Bladensburg was regularly -provided for by the legis- lature there was a cluster of mills, stores and homes at that site and that the place was known as Jones Mill, Smiths Store, Two Creeks, Cal- verts Meadows, or something of that sort. Beginning in 1750 and searching forward to 1800 through the acts of the Maryland assembly, the Ramblef found a few references to Bladens- burg, and if he finds it convenient to run a series of narratives about Bladensburg, he will search from 1750 back to 1700. The first reference to Bladensburg which he came upen was in an act of the assemply in 1773 for “the regulation of the staple of tobacco and for preventing frauds in his majesty’s customs.” recited that “public warehouses for the inspection of tobacco shall be kept at the several places mention- ed,” as follows: In St. Mary's county: At Chaptico, on the land of the late Philip Key; on a plantation where a certain Gllbert Mackey lived; at St. Innegoes, on the land of Stephen Milburn; at Wicomico, on the land of John Llewellin; at the courthouse, on the land gof Abraham Barnes; on St. Cuthbert's creek, on the land of Francis Brooke; at-Town creek, on the land of Hugh Hopewell. In Charles county: At Benedict- town, on the Patuxent river; at Pile's Fresh, on Mr. John Parnham's land; at Lower Cedar Point, on Charles Jones' land; at Chandler's Point, on Port Tobacco creek; at Nanjemoy, on Patowmack river, on. the land of Richard Harrison; at Chickamuxen “What you think they do to get| ... "o the land of Willlam Small- wood; at Pamunkey creek, on the 1and of the late John Truman Stodert. In -Prince Georges county: At Queen Arne Town on-the Patuxent The att; BLADENSBURG STREET. river; at Upper Marlborough on the land of Thomas Sim Lee; ' ham on the land of Jame on the land of Alexander Magruder: at Bladensburg on the land of Dr. David Ross; at Broad Creek on the land of Enoch Magruder; at Piscata- way on the land of the late John Hawkins, jr. Tobacco warehouses were not cre- ated by the act in question in all cases at the places named. The act was a restatement of the location of tobacco warehouses in the thre counties. Tobacco warehouses had half a century and a century before N BLADENSBURG. HOME been set up at nearly all these places the passage of that act. But when a warehouse got out of repair or was outgrown by the trade, or for one of many other reasons, a new buili- ing was constructed, and it was often set up in the same neighborhood but on another man’s land. There was a tobacco warehouse at Bladensburg at least as early as 1746, for Christopher Lowndes was a prominent merchant there in that year, and he was im- porting European goods, taking to- bacco in payment and shipping that tobacco to Europe. This is evidence, amounting almost to proof, that there was an inspection warehouse at that place at that time. * ok ok * IN the same act of 1773 is a state- ment of the value of money, or moneys, in tobacco. This is interest- ing not only in showing the value of tobacco but in showing aiso the many kinds of money current in Maryland at that time. Here follows the table: : Johannes, weighing eighteen pen- nyweight, 960 pounds of tobacco; half johannes, weighing nine penny: weight, 480 pounds tobaco; moidore: weighing six pennywelght and eight- ecen grains, 360 pounds; English guinea, weighing five pennyweight and six grains, 280 pounds; French guineas, weighing five pennyweight and five grains, 276 pounds; Spanish pistoles, not lighter than four penny- weight and six grains, 220 pounds; French milled pistoles, weighing four pennyweight and four grains, 216 pounds; | Arabian chequins, weighing two pennywelght and three grains, 110 pounds; English milled crowns, 662-3 pounds; “and other English milled silver at the same rate.” Then follows this: “Otheg, gold coin (Ger- man excepted) by the pennyweight at. 511-3 pounds; .French silver crowns at €0, Spanish milled pieces of - eight . at . 60, - other. .good - coinéd Spanish silver at 68.”” It would ap- * pear that our ancestors had to know & good deal about money in order to succeed in business, and even after being sure that the money was of true metal, they accepted most of the forelgn coins only at their bul- llon value. You will note that the act of 1773 @irected that the warehouse at Bla- densburg should be set up on the land of Dr. David Ross. The house in whicK Dr. Ross lived is still stand- ing. About forty-five years ago it was bought by Samuel K. Lee, a col- ored man who came to Bladensburg from the Pohick mneishborhood of Virginia and whose family took its name from the Lees of Leesylvanin on Neabsco creek. Samuel left the Ross house to his son, William O. Lee, who owns the property now, but who lives in West Virginia, and his cousin, Mrs. Alberta Gunn, occuples this his- toric dwelling. There are a number of houses in Bladensburg old enough to be classed as “historic,” and the Rambler will do his best to tell about them in subsequent “rambles.” Dr. David Ross died between 1773 and 1779, for in the latter year the legislature of Maryland passed an act “to enlarge the powers of Ariana Ross, executrix of Dr. Davld Ross, deceased.” In Green Hill cemetery, at Bladensburg, is a tall monument, from which the rambler copied the following: ‘William Ross, died April 16, 1828, Harriat Ross, died April 24, 1854. Mabeline Ross, died April 17, 1865, aged 49 years. Robert T. Ross, died February 22, 1901. Sarah Ross, died November 6, 1870. Mary Ross, died January 21, 1883. Maria Louisa Ross Thompson, died October 26, 1896. Below the name and death date of Maria Louisa Ross Thompson is an uninscribed space on the marble monu- ment, and at that side of the shaft is a new grave. P THERE are a great many things about old Bladensburg which the Rambler hopes to be able to tell you, but before closing this narrative let him relate a little incident, a pleasant little incident, of his visit to the town last Sunday. In two of the by-ways of the village four men were paint- ing. Each had his easel before him and his palette and brushes in hand. Each worked ndustriously to put a bit of Eladensburg on canvas. Neither of these men had a camp stool. Each stood at his work, and stood \in mud. Each had the collar of his overcoat turned up, for a raw wind was blowing. The Rambler thought these figures in the distance had a familiar look. They wepe old friends of the man who jots these things down. One was A. H. O. Rolle (August Rolle), another was A. J. Schram (Abe Schram), another was B. B. Moore (Benson Moore), and the fourth was Frank W. Meyers, ali members of the Society of Washing- ton Artists, but their own particu- lar organization is the Landscape Club, and this club has its studio at 1221 15th street, where there are going to be some®jolly doings, to which the Rambler is going to be invited. This Landscape Club has been painting the environs of Washington for so many years that it has almost finished the job. You can look at August Rolle and Abe Schram in the picture. They are not actually painting, but are posing. The Rambler's camera is not one of those modern affairs with which you make a snapshot in one-millionth of a séFond and don't get a picture. It is a slow-going af- fair, and the Rambler asked August and Abe to stand still for half an | hour until he could set up his camera and then for twenty-five minutes more until he could get the thipg to going. E Let us meet again next Sunday. Watterson Memorial. HOSE who are planning to #at up a bronze tablet to mark ,the birthplace of “Marse Henry” Water- son must wait until a controversy as to the exact location of his place of birth in the National Capital has tien settled. = The Congressional Directory for the Twenty-sixth Congress shows that - - the first session was {rom December . 2, 1839, until July 21, 1840. jthat time Representative and Mrs. Harvey M. Watgerson lived at the 1home of Mrs. Brawner, on Pennsyl- vania avenue between 2d and 3d. - streets, where the big elm now standas,, - opposite the Botanic Garden. As . Henry was born on February 16, 1840, ¢ it is argued thit he was born St that v address. ) ‘ Duriog »