Identifier: virginiaolddomin00hutc (find matches)
Title: Virginia, the Old Dominion, as seen from its colonial waterway, the historic river James, whose every succeeding turn reveals country replete with monuments and scenes recalling the march of history and its figures from the days of Captain John Smith to the present time
Year: 1921 (1920s)
Authors: Hutchins, Frank W Hutchins, Cortelle
Subjects: Historic buildings Houseboats
Publisher: Boston, The Page Company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
, and some-where in the long line its story has been lost.Who placed the ring where it hangs, andwhether in joy or in grief, nobody longerknows. But it will swing safely there whileBrandon stands, for in this ancient house,down the ages undisturbed, come the mysteriesand the ghosts. That evening a wind came up and rainset in from a depressing dark-blue-calico sky.Gadabout did not take the trouble to i*unback into her creek harbour; but put downa heavier anchor and made herself comfort-able for the night in the cove above the Bran-don pier. The cradling boat and the patterupon the roof soon put us to sleep. Thensomething put us very wide awake again.We listened, but there was nothing to hear.The wind had died out and the boat hadstopped rolling. In a moment, the long blastof a steamer whistle told what was the mat-ter. In blanket-robe and slippers, the Com-modore got quickly to a window, and foundthe river world all gone — swallowed up infog. Another weird, warning call out of the130
Text Appearing After Image:
HARBOUR DAYS AND A FOGGY NIGHT mysterious, impenetrable mist; the steamerfor Richmond was groping her way up theriver. To be sure, anchored as we were sofar inshore of the channel, M^e were well clearof the steamers course; but in such heavyfogs the river boats often go astray. As suc-ceeding blasts sounded nearer, the Commo-dore became anxious and, without waitingto turn out the crew, he started for the fog-bell. But where was the fog-bell? Not whereit ought to be, we well knew. Some changesin the cockpit had crowded it from its place,and for some time it had been stowed away— but where? The Commodore scurriedfrom locker to locker. * Couldnt we just as well whistle? askedNautica. No, no. A boat under way whistles ina fog, but one at anchor must ring a bell. One more locker, and, Ive found it!triumphantly cried the Commodore; but then,in dismay, There goes the tongue out of thething. Suddenly came another blast from thesteamer. She sounded almost atop of us,and the whistling was fol

Note About Images