Evening Star Newspaper, July 26, 1925, Page 60

—g = THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JULY 26, 1925—PART 5. | Cattlemen Guard Thousands of Animals on Snow-Blanketed Plains Cowboys Have “Tall Hard Work” with Rustlers, “What’s Kinda Reckless and Sorta Free With Their Long Rope.” AUTHOR'S NOTE. What I've wrote here is without the help of the dictionary or any course in story-writing. I didn’t want to dilude what I had to say i with a lot of imported words that I couldn’t of handled. Good eng- lish is all right, but when I want to say something I believe in hit ting straight to the point without fishing for decorated language I was born and raised in the cow country—I am a cowboy—and what's put down in these three articles is not material that I've hunted up; it's what I've lived, geen and went through before I ever had any idea that my writing ahd sketches would ever appear be- fore the public BY WILL JAMES. AGGED, bewhiskered, narrow- brained, cruel and mighty dangerous to all folks, spe- cially women; unscrupulous, with a hankering to kill and destroy all what he runs across, leav- ing nothing behind but the smoke and & grease spot—is the impression folks get through the movies and fiction of the cattle rustier and horse thief. I don't blame them folks for shiver- ing at the thought of ever meeting such a bad hombre, but they can rest easy, ‘cause there is no such animal in the cattle rustler. Picture for you self a man sleeping out under the stars, watching the sunrise and sun sets, where there's no skyscrapers or smoke to keep him from seeing it all, acting that way or being what they say he is. When T speak of rustlers I don’t mean them petty, cheap crooks what's read dime novels and tries to get tough, steals some poor old wid- ow's last few “dogies,” ‘cause they ain’t got guts enough to get theirs from the big outfit what keeps riders | the year 'round—them kind don’t last long enough to be mentioned, any- how—and I always figgered the rope what kept ‘em from touching the earth was worth a heap more than what it was holding. To my way of thinking about the cattle thief, or cattle rustler, the ex- citement he gets out of it is what he likes most. You can bet your boots that even though he may be dealing from the bottom of the deck, he's generally taking his from them what he thinks won't suffer from the loss or maybe even miss it. You're plumb safe when that kind rides up to your camp to leave your silver-mounted spurs : bits scat tered around as usual, and most likely if he sees you're in of a fresh horse he'll be real you the pick of his string—only dan ger is, if you're caught riding one of them ponies it may be kind of hard to explain just how you come In posses- slon of said animal There’'s cases where some cowboy what's kinda reckless and sorta free with his rope might get & heap wors reputation than what he deserves, and he gradually gets the blame for any stock disappearing within a couple of hundred miles from his stomping ground. Naturally, that gets pretty deep under his hide, with the result that he figgers he might just as well live up to his reputation, gets caught “going south” with 500 head he won't get hung any higher than he would for running off with just some old ‘ring-boned” saddle horse. Consequences is when the stock as- soclations and others start to keep him on the move, he's using his long rope for fair, and when he’s moving there's a few carloads of prime stock making tracks ahead of him. In Wy oming a few of the feud men tried to even scores that way. The hill-billy whs on horseback and toting a hair trigger carbine. e i s, DO NOT want to give the impres- sion that the cattlemen started the cow business by rustlin, not by a long shot—they in all ways. Most re plum against it of ‘em would their herd dwindle down to rather than brand anything they're shure it's their own But once in a while there is some what naturally hates to see anything g0 unbranded wether it's theirs or not, and being the critter don’t look just right to 'em without said iron, they're most apt to plant one on tmes the brand don't alway Like for instance, there was Bob Ryan who got to thinking about riding mean horses all day and a lot lessen al in offering | use if he | in none | | for somebody else at $30 a month and bacon. He felt it wasn't any too interesting to him; he kinda hankered for a little range and a few head of stock of his own, and come to figger ing that some outfits he'd rode for had no objections to their riders pick- ing up a ick” whenever it was afe. There wa them slicks c no reason much. why uldn't just as well bear his own “iron,” and that certain “ranny being overambitious that way and sorta carefree, buys a few head of cows, calves and vearlings, wherever he can get 'em and takes a “squatter” in the foothills, his weaning corrals being well hid higher up in some heavy timbered box can: yon, and proceeds to drag a loop that makes him ashamed, at first. There’s the start of your cattle rustler—it's up to how wise he is, or how lucky, wether he keeps it up till he's really one or not. If he can get by till his herd is the size he wants it without getting caught, most likely he’ll stop there and no one will know the difference, but if some in- quisitive rider gets wind of his doings, and that wind scatters till it begins | to look like a tornado, why it's liable to leave him in bad humor and make him somewhat more reckle | Any stranger was welcome to Bob's | camp to feed and rest up; a fresh horse, or anything else he had, was offered to them what needed it, and it wouldn't matter if your pack horse was loaded with gold nuggets they was just as safe in his bunk house, or maybe safer, than in the safety vault. His specialty was cattle and he got to love to use his skill in changing irons. He was just like a big average of | the Western outlaw and cattle rustler; | his_squareness in some things made | up for his crookedness in others. There | was no petty work done; saddle, spurs, chaps was safe hanging over the | 1, but there was one thing you | had to keep away from in the rustler's doings; it you saw at a distance smoke going up, one man with a critter down and a horse standing rope's length away, it's always a good idea to ride 'way around and keep out of sight, unless you want your Stetson perforated. If you was Interested and had company, why that's another | story. } e ‘O.\'r: year it struck me that riding ‘winter months wasn't cheerful no | more, and I thought that for once I'd | be able to hole in comfortable for that | snowy cold perfod; but my pockets prung a leak, and being that I| | couldn’t get no comfort of what was past and spent, I began to look into | |the future and wonders what cow | outfit would hire a cowboy that time of year. I'm runing the irons of the outfits I know of through my mind and look- ing into the future real deep; when I raises up straight in my bed and looks |out of the hotel window to see snow |coming down and adding up on the| |fourteen inches already on the level. Yep! I figgers the range will be need ing riders. My ham and eggs is down to half | when old Tom Meyers, superintendent | | of the “hip-0,” steps up and asks how | | I'm setting. “Pretty fair,” I says and| {don’t tell him none of my plans, think-, |ing that he’s full handed anyway. I| |don't show where I'm at all interested when he says he’s needing of a man at . Stone Plle camp. “It's mean | weather out right now,” I says, “and | I'm afraid I'm getting kinda soft, but | how much are you paying?" With a month’s wages handed to me {in advance I pays my bills at the | hotel, bar and stable (they hadn't been running long) and it feels kinda od to be riding out again even if | the snow was deep and more of it was {coming. My horse was a-snifiing of it and lining out full of life. After the long spell in the stall he was glad | to be out and going-somewhere, and somehow I wasn't a bit sorry either. There's two ranch hands at the |camp when I get there shoveling hay near a thousand head of “hospital tle” (weak stock), besides a cook | and another rider named Dan, and the |next morning when I sniffs and| smells the bacon from m. know that I've settled down tall hard work. There was days when we'd be drift- | ing with the herds and the blizzard a-howling full force, when you could hardly see your hand in front of you and the only way you knowed the to some | | chinook was headed our w the blinding storm) you was running good chances of getting lost unless you run acrost some landmark what told of your whereabouts. A O E day when we hear of a dance what was golng to be pulled off at the crossing we figger there could be no_ better time for it to happen; so saddling up our private ponies us two |boys and the cook set out for the crossing 40 miles We covered that 40 miles and got to the other end in plenty time for the big midnight feed. We had our ears all wrapped up to keep 'em from freez ing off, but, along with the coyotes howling to the moon, we could hear old Darb a-see-sawing bn his fiddle and somebody else calling the dahce a half a mile before we reached the | house. We just enters the house as we hear a “tag” dance anounced and by the time our chaps, spurs, and extra | clothes are took oft it's half over, but not too late to tag a couple of hom- bres, take their ladies, and dance some till we got tagged ourselves, When the dance 'was through the blood was beginning to circulate some, and by the time we shook hands all around we was more than ready to help keep things cheerful. Half the crowd was cow-punchers from everywhere, a few cowmen with their families, from the oldest down to the weaner (what was left in the bedroom but made itself heard now and again), then a few boys from town what sleighed over and brought a few girls along. There was about six men to each lady, and it was always a wonder to me how the supposed to be weaker sex could tire the men even at that, but they did, and the fatter they was the longer they stayed. The big feed at midnight and specially that coffee was a life saver to most of us what come in late; and when the fiddler resumed his playing there was no quitting till daybreak. The ladies all disappeared then, and us boys would take the floor and go on with the stag dance. it “fire-water” was around that stag dance was apt to be kind of rough and end up in wrestling matches. The bunch all heads for the cor- rals and a wall-eyed rangy bronc is led out, saddled, straddled, and with the bawling of that bronc bucking away with a whooping rider fanning him, the crowd hollering “stay with him, cowboy” or the like, the sun is coming up, the ladies are waking, and the end of the doings have come. Breakfast s spread and all hands, after partaking of the bait, are talk ing of hitting the trail. Ponles are caught, harnessed or saddled, and| with a lot of howdedo the crowd is| leaving for their home grounds. | My bronc was “high-lifed” as T go through the corral gate and bucks right through the calf pen, same as it wasn't there, near hooking on the corner of the stable as he goes by but & mile further on he cools down some and the boys catch up with me. We're riding along a ways when Dan remarks, “I feel something the air.” A light breeze had spru in lot as if a and as| we ride on that breeze keeps a-getting warmer and stronger. The deep snow was already beginning to show about it, it felt a whole wind et its way through. R THE next day as I ride out of camp the chinook is blowing for and when I strikes the first of cattle I found them to be as ifraid 1 would. They'd been and rustling fine a few days they'd been on their feet through the cold w her, not hankering to lay down in the snow, and the exercise Kept the blood c culating: but the chinook had took the ow off a few spots and at them most of the stock laying all the life out of 'em. sure, bunch I was strong before; steady down and 1 rides in on 'em. I spends a couple of hours helping the weakest ones by “talling 'em up,” and stéadying ‘em some afterwards so they can navi- gate. I'm working hard ‘cause I know that when the chinook quits direction you was headed was by the wind. If that wind switched to another direction without you know- blowing and it gets cold again them | cattle what are down now will get stiff | |and cramped, the blood'll quit circu- of the night in all kifds of weather ing of it (you wasn't apt to know in |lating, and the critters’ legs will be “MY BRONC WAS ‘HIGH-LIFED* AND NEAR HOOKS ME ON THE CORNER OF THE STABLE AS HE GOES BY.” up from the west, and come to think | the effects and sagging as the warm | on the ridges | spots is where I finds | They was hardened to the cold and | bunk I|the sudden warmth left 'em so weak | that only half of 'em can get up as| plumb useless, which leaves ‘em good only for coyote bait. Well, I kept a-riding the bare ridges that day and getting cattle on their feet and moving. The next day was the same and the chinook was still a-blowing and eating up the snow. Half of it is already melted away and water Is running down the coulees to the creeks, making 'em the size of rivers. Any stranger would of thought sure that spring’'d come sudden, but I knowed the cowmen was losing sleep for worrying, more afraid of the harm the hard frecze would do to the stock after the chinook'd left than the chi nook itself could do while it was blowing. Along about the middle of the after- noon I could feel the air getting cooler and the breeze was shifting to the north. The snow'd quit melting and the creeks was getting down to creek size again. It's good and dark by the time I heads my horse towards camp and it was getting colder every minute. The Cypress Cattle Company was running ‘over 30,000 head of cattle Three thousand of ‘em was at Stone Pile camp, where Dan and me was rid- ing. The rest was at other cow camps, and a big herd at the home ranch where there was other riders and hay shovelers looking after 'em. At our camp there was enough hay put up the Summer before to feed and pull through the Winter about 1,500 head of stock. The other 1,500 was sup- posed to rustle. They could easy enough and come out strong In the Spring after any average Winter, ‘cause the stock what was left out on the range to rustie through was all dry stuff and steers. Cows with calves and weaners and all old or wea stock was fed from the start of the bad weather till Spring break-up. The weather kept clear and cold. The little glass tube outside our camp by the door was saying from 30 to 35 below, and had been keeping that up for about a week. Lucky, we thought, the wind wasn’t blowing then or every critter would of froze stiff where they stood. We kept on bringing in. the weakest and only them what really needed feed the most. It was near three weeks since the chinook'd come and left the range a fleld of ice and crusted snow with the tew bare epots that helped some keep ing the quttle alive. The willows on the creek bottoms and the sage was all et down to the ice, and outside of the few branches what was too big for them to tackle the country was clean as a whistle. The stock had so little feed in ‘em that it looked like their flanks were near touching the backbone, but the most of 'eny was strong and if it hadn't been for that chinook they would now be in good shape. S i JT started clouding up before the chinook quit, and that’s when our hopes come back. The snow was 'mc all gone to water and running down the draws. The country was left bare and brown and the cattle weaker than ever, but feed a-plenty was in sight sy to get at, and clouding up as it was with the wind dying down us to understand that there won't be no real cold weather coming right soon anyway It stayed warm, and in a couple of days it started snow, kinda wet at | first, but she stuck and kept on a-com- ing, slow but sure and steady. The cloudy weather was with us for a good two weeks and gradually getting | colder, when it cleared again and the | thermoeter went down to 10 below | There was near a foot of snow o | the ground again and the cattie wa | having a hard time rooting down to {the feed, hut the slow drop of th | thermometer and the chance at some feed befora the snow came recupera |’em some. A few more had to | brought In and we aid it, taking bi chances of running out of hay too| soon And then another six inches of snow | piled up on top of the foot already down, which makes us and the hay shovelers do a heap of figgering as to how we was going to pull the stock through. The hay was fed and handled real careful, but it was dwindling away fast. Two thousand of the hungry critters was in the feed pens eating up the hay what was supposed to carry over 1,500 head. Spring was late, it still looked like the middle of Winter, and we had to contend not only with the usual few Winter c: es, but Spring calves was beginning to pop up here and there and showing their little white faces The daggone coyotes was the only animal getting fat, and it sure used to do my heart a lot of good to keel one of 'em over just when he'd be doing some tall sneak on some poor little feller of a calf when his mammy was too far a v or too weak to get there in_time to do any protecting Like one day, riding along and keep Ing tab on the weak ones, as usual, I runs across a cow track in the snow. A little baby calf was trylng mighty hard to keep up with her, and a littie farther on there's two other kinds of tracks join in and follows. Th big tracks, too big for coyotes, and T concludes they must be gray wolv Now, I know that as a rule wol wouldn't ckle them only maybe just for the want to kill or when horses is getting scarce. Anyway, I know T sure like to get ‘em any time I can, no matter what they're after, and spurs up on the trail, the 30.30 carbine right in my hands yand the business end of it pointed straight ahead. Daggone em’ they are after that cow and calf. I can see that plain enough by the signs in the snow where she'd stopped, made a stand and went on for some place (I figgered) where she could back up alongside a_cliff or something and have only one ide to watch from. 1 can see the wolves are only after a little excitement, ‘cause they could of killed both her and the caif right there and then if they’d wanted to. | Instead, they just let her go and kept on aggravating her as she went. I thought to myself, if they're o rear. ing for excitement I'd sure be glad to oblige ‘em that way Wwhen I catches up. *omok % | [ FINALLY spots ‘em a half a mile |+ to the right. There’s a ridge be- tween us, and soon as I get a peek of | their whereabouts and lay of the land, what little I showed of myself is out of sight again. I seen where the mother'd found a good spot to make her last stand, and, even though | she knowed how the fight was going to end, she was sure making use of the rim-rock she'd backed up against, and bellering for help that didn’t seem to tome. Hell bent for election, T follows up the draw I'm in to where I figger I'd better hoof it the rest of the way. There was no wind to give me away, and I managed to crawl up to within 50 yards of the fighting bunch, taking in at a glance all what'd been going on while I'm looking down the rifie sights, The wolves are enjoying themselves so much that they're not on the look- { oughly And right there I stopped one of ‘em with a bullet right through him from shoulder to shoulder. The other started to_run and I lets him have a pill, too, but he kept on a-run- ning, ‘dragging two useless hind legs. A couple more shots what don’t seem to affect him none and I gets my horse, takes after him, and brings him back, limp, with a bullet between his ears. I gathers up little Johnny (calf), puts his dying mammy out of mis- ery, and being I'm not very far from camp, I don’t stop to skin the wolves right then, but takes 'em in as they are. Two more weeks gone, and it still looks and feels ltke the middle of Winter, when by rights of season the range ought to be getting bare of snow and _the grass showing a little green; and worse yet, the hay fs all gone and fed up, every speck of it. So it seems to us that the outfit is up against it for sure. We know that no hay can be bought nowhere around, being they've all got their own stock to save and run- ning short themselves. Dan and me had just about given up thinking of some way out, RENAISSANCE of hospitality in the historic estates of Mary- land and Virginia is one of the most gratifying features of that “back to the soil” movement to be noted among Ameri- cans of wealth, who are slowly de- veloping a taste for leisure and a knowledge of how to expend it profit- ably. One by one, the picturesque. old places in the vicinity of Washington are betng bought up and restored, to e great delight of lovers of the gra- cious traditions of an older day. And the recent purchase by Senator and Mrs. Oscar Underwood of Woodlawn, to which Nellie Custis went as a bride on her marriage to George Washing- ton’s nephew, Lawrence Lewis, calls attention to the imposing group of Virginia estates on which the life of a century ago is being revived—with modern variations. » Mount Vernon is preserved, of course, as nearly as possible as it was in Washington's time, its chambers filled with the furniture which George and Martha Washington used in their daily life, its quaint gardens still cut by the box bordered paths they daily trod. But this is a shrine rather than a home. And it s to places like Woodlawn, like Gunston Hall, built by George Mason, author of the famous Virginia_ Bill of Rights and now the home of Mr. and Mrs. Louis Hertle; like Rippon Lodge, recently purchased by Mr. and Mrs. Wade Eliis, or to Mr. and Mrs. Harley P. Wilson's home, Hollin Hall, that one must look for a picture of that pleasant inter- change of hospitality characteristic of colonial days. The Hertles have owned Gunston Hall long enough to have become thor- identified therewith, as have the Harley Wilsons with Hollin Hall, the estate which in its original form was built by George Mason for his son, Thomas Mason. But the Ellises only acquired Rippon Lodge last Sum- mer, and its restoration is only just completed. Mr. and Mrs. Harold Walker have bought a_charming old place on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, which re- jolces in the picturesque name of Mary’s Delight. And the growing list of fine old piaces that are again play- ing an important part in the life of the community includes Mount Eagle, originally Lord Fairfax's hunting lodge; Collingwood Farm, recently pur- charsed by Mr. and Mrs. Mark Reid Yates, and Marsland-on-the-Potomac, the country home of Col. and Mra, James A. Drain, which is of much later date, but which still has enough of historic association to be interest. ing. out as they generally are. They had the cow down and letting her last as long as they could without allowing the fight to get too monotonous. Her Tead and horns are still a-going and mighty dangerous to anything what comes near. The poor little calf was all together as yet, and off ‘ways, plumb help- less and watching, too young to know for sure .what to do. The wolves had figured him not worth while to fool with ~right then. They'd fix his mammy first, spend a few minutes with him afterwards, and then go on to the next yictim, when of a sudden ition the ridges, Witk Tames [y “A FEW OF THE FEUD MEN TRIED TO EVEN SCORE HILL BILLY WAS ON HORSEBACK AND TOT- ING A HAIR-TRIGGER CARBINE.” comes to me, and T remembers of how one time up in Alberta a cowman saved his stock and pulled ’‘em through in good shape with a six- horse team and a drag (or snow- plough). No more thought of than tried. There was enough harness in the to_hook up thirty head of horses, and two teams on hand and but we wanted two_six-horse teams to do the work and® we was short eight head; so Dan and me hits out looking through every bunch of horses on the range for anything what had collar marks, and any of ‘em what had was run in and put to work. It didn’t matter whether they belonged to the outfit or not. i WO V-shaped dralls was made out of heavy logs with thick planks nailed on the outside so it'd push the snow away on both sides and clean. We get the teams all hooked up, straightened around, and we're ready to go. It worked fine, and the grass wherever we went and drug was easy to get. The snow hadn't drifted any and was no thicker in the draws than 80 we worked the HEN Senator Underwood retires from public life and settles down at Woodlawn to lead the life of a gentleman farmer, which some wise- acres insist is likely to be soon,. he will find an engaging combination of the old order and the new, for Wood- lawn Mansion has been brought up to date, with electricity and the most luxurifous of modern plumbing, besides being within a half hour's motor ride of Washington over the smoothest of concrete boulevards. Yet, on the other hand, it nestles among age-old trees, the house has been preserved in its old-fashioned beauty, and on the veranda George Washington used to sit, looking off toward Mount Vernon, 'W;'Aken he came a-visiting to his kins- olk. Originally part of the Mount Vernon property, Woodlawn wad the marriage portion of Eleanor Parke Custis, adopted daughter of the Washingtons and granddaughter of Lady Washing- ton. The dwelling was designed by Dr. William Thornton, architect of the Capitol, who also drew up plans for beautiful old Tudor Place in George- town, home of the Armistead Peters, and of a score of other famous man- sions. The house stands on a com- manding elevation above Dogue Creek, a tributary of the Potomac, and is on the road to Mount Vernon. ‘The news of the sals of Woodlawn to the Underwoods was coincident with the assembling at Mount Vernon of the Mount Vernon Ladles’ Associa- tion, holding its fifty-ninth assembly, at which the failure of these patriotic ‘women to raise sufficient funds to buy the neighboring estate was made known. It had been their purpose to make of it a shrine similar to Wash- ington’s home, governed by a similar ladies’ association. The place was previously owned by Miss. Elizabeth Sharpe of Philadel- phia. The late Woodrow Wilson tried to buy it for a Summer home some years ago, but Miss Sharpe would not consider parting with it; and it was not until after her death that the es- tate was sold by her heirs. . L GUNSTON HALL stands out as per- haps the most perfect example near Washington of the Colofilal homestead at its best. For Mr. and Mrs. Louls Hertle, who now live in the historic mansion, have had the taste and knowledge to restore the house as nearly as possible to what it was in pre-Revolutionary days; they are blessed with enough of this world’s goods to have carried out the work effectively; and they have such an appreciation of the historic and the beautiful that they regard their home as a sort of trust, and inform { when draws and found plenty of good|and four months cold we strong feed our cattle was needing sc bad. | We had to cover a lot of country | and keep a-going so that they'd all| get some; but the exercise and rust- ling, ‘along with that feed they wa getting, made ‘em some stronger, and | it wasn't but a few days when the cattle all knowed what them V-| shaped logs dragging along meant. | The strongest ones would follow ‘em right up for a ways, and we'd come down the same draw but on the other side. The leaders would stop and feed, | leaving the weaker cattle have : chance as we come by. That'd been going on for about two | weeks; the stock wasn’t picking up no | fat but they was making out all right. The ranch-hands handied drags and Dan and me was riding. still bringing a few weak ones from the outside stuff every once in a| while. May was getting near now suge ‘enough Spring ought to show itself pretty quick if it's going to show up at all; but as Dan remarked to me and says, “Bill, this country ain't got no Spring or Summer to speak of; it's eight months Wint and the very atmosphere with a spirit of dignity and true hospitality The house was built by George Ma- | son between 1755 and 1758—about the same time George Washington was putting Mount Vernon in order to re- cefve his bride, Martha Dandridge Custis. The two families were on terms of intimacy and there was much visiting back and forth between Gun- ston Hall and Mount Vernon, the two estates being separated by Belvoir— now Fort Humphreys—the estato the Fairfax family, common friend of the Washingtons and Masons. Equidistant from Gunston and| Mount Vernon stands Pohick Church, | one of the few remaining eightee century churches in the South. Tradi- tion says that Washington designed the structure; and it is history that conducted the survey by which it w located, while George Mason assumed the responsibility of completing it the “undertaker” (contractor)| failed, The two men, moreover, served on its vestry for 20 years, and It was their usual place of worship. Bearing the marks of age and the scars of Civil War, the restored Pohick Church is still the religlous center of the com- munity. When it came into the hands of its present appreciative owners Gunston Hall had fallen upon evil days. After descending to George Mason's son and his grandson the estate passed out of the family and was sold to two wood- choppers for the timber on the land. They lived on the upper floor while the wood was being cut and allowed four negro families to camp out in| the beautiful drawing rooms. Surviv- | ing even such desecration, the place | was sold to a Col. Danlels, who clean- | ed things up a bit, but who built a| three-story watch tower atop the low | Georglan house. Afterward, it passed | through several owners into the hands of Vaughn Kester and Payl Kester, the playwright, from whom the| Hertles bought it. Then began the arduous and very | delicate task of restoration. Old prints were dug up, showing the house as it was originally designed. Old books and records were searched for descriptions thereof. The watch tower came down and stucco was re- moved from the beautiful old brick work. Indoors all manner of ex crescences were removed. Eight lay- | ers of paper were peeled off to dis- | close the warm pine paneling of the drawing room. Restoring was done wherever necessary and the hidden beauties of the gracious old house were brought out. As it stands now—and as it was in George Mason’s day—Gunston Hall is a low Georgian house of warm red, the brick probably made and fired on the place. A small porch, which pre- ' | | wide hal, | drift | that I begins to thi: Bu the beg! while i stron to get I notice warmer more we what few ing of We w right close wa green buffalo g on fat and stren The gray wol for the had to be more. Spring had come Historic Estates of Old Dominion And Maryland in Renaissance twice the height see at the vist. of the Potom walk. At its end with a_pergola garden laid out m rioti; wi m terrace through which Wa oared barge used came in his fav visit to his neight The character Gunston Hall—f without, over th whic| house, and on the pomegrs ity, now as sallent characte: The carving throug notably beautiful stances native wooc probably, grown on been used, The drawing room, pllasters and above the door alcoves filled wit century china. The room offers one of of Chinese Chipps this country in its ¥ HOLLIN HALL FARM, property of Mr. P. Wilson, comprises of the 2.000acre tract Thomson Mason's do has it that the or was burned and o of the of - daffodils where it stood. the Wilsons 1 be known an enct ture, wh spinning ho the last few have built house atop spot in F The cas the: al visitor wo this house is n embowered in century-o climbs over its w it looks as thot rooted in the soil for a hu It is Georglan in type, peaked roof of warm a pair of delightfu Indoors, of