. Down the eastern and up the Black . adition, it must beborne in mind, is not always reliable. Some investigators havetaken issue with McClune, but all agree with him that afterthe retirement of the Indians, the growth of the timber herewas rapid, and about the period of the Revolutionary War, theforests were dense. Southward from Forrest station about two hundred yards,stands the first covered bridge over the Eastern Brandy\ most of us bridges are interesting objects, whether we areable to analyze out interest in them or not. For me such inter-est dates a long way back. C
. Down the eastern and up the Black . adition, it must beborne in mind, is not always reliable. Some investigators havetaken issue with McClune, but all agree with him that afterthe retirement of the Indians, the growth of the timber herewas rapid, and about the period of the Revolutionary War, theforests were dense. Southward from Forrest station about two hundred yards,stands the first covered bridge over the Eastern Brandy\ most of us bridges are interesting objects, whether we areable to analyze out interest in them or not. For me such inter-est dates a long way back. Caius Julius Caesar! can I ever for-get the time when I first assisted in reconstructing a bridge overthe Rhine in accordance with directions set down by thee withsuch explicitness in thy Commentaries on the Gallic War ? To those who, like myself, have struggled with tigtuisesqitipedalia, or operated the fistuca, the bridge at Forrest presents no constructional difficulties. It is a modestlittle structure resting upon stone abutments, the distance. between which is only about forty feet. In summer, it decks itselfwith climbing ivy; in winter, loves to show a snowy cap. An27 ] eighth of a mile below the bridge, the stream widens into Cupoladam, and enters the township of West Nantmeal. Picturesquelybeautiful as West Nantmeal is, I yet leave Honeybrook with muchregret, for in Honeybrook are the sources of the Brandywine,and thy sources, 0, Brandywine, are peculiarly dear to me. Indian, settler, and slave, have all drunk of thy waters, haveall felt the subtle influence of thy beauty, have all listened tothy ever changing, never ending song. When wearied of the chase, thy Indian lover stretchedhimself upon the soft green turf beside thee, thou didst gentlywhisper to him all the secrets of thy stream; didst sing to himof shady pools and bright-eyed trout, of greenest cresses andfair-blooming flowers; and when at last delicious dreaminesscame over him, when full of thy story, his tire
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