outbuildings of the upper plantation, we heard
singing and laughter. Corn-husking was going on in the big barn. The
doors were open, and from the distant roadway we could see the negroes
at work, bits of their parti-coloured garb showing bright against the
dark interior.

And at last, truly enough, our pathway led among the chickens and the
geese. Indeed, one blustering gander "quite thought to bar our way."
But, taking courage from the stirring old couplet,

"We routed him: we scouted him,
Nor lost a single man."

There were other fowl in sight too; fowl that had a special
significance just then. For, despite the bright, warm days, the last
Thursday in November was near at hand; and we wondered whether our
Thanksgiving dinner could be found in this flock of plump, bronze
birds.

The early plantation house at Upper Wey-anoke was long ago destroyed by
fire, and a modern house of brick now stands upon the old site. A
broad, shaded lawn slopes to the river. Here one gets an impressive
view of the James as it broadens into a curving bay below Windmill
Point.

When we entered the home, our interest centred in its mistress, the
little lady of old-time grace and courtesy sitting by the open fire. It
was later that we noticed the two portraits hanging near her--one of
Chief-Justice Marshall and one of a beautiful dark-eyed young woman.

The relationship of these three--Mrs. Douthat, the Chief-Justice, and
the beautiful young woman--added to the charm of our talk. For the
great John Marshall had a son John who married Elizabeth Alexander, a
descendant of the colonial house of Thomas; and that Elizabeth
Alexander was the girl in the picture. John and Elizabeth had a
daughter, and that daughter was the sweet little lady sitting there
beneath the portraits. Her grandfather, the Chief-Justice, named her
Mary Willis in memory of his cherished, invalid wife.

This Mary Willis Marshall married Fielding Lewis Douthat, of the
Harwood family, and went as a bride to Lower Weyanoke when the home
there yet spoke bravely of colonial dignity, and the garden was still
fragrant with trim bordered beds of bloom. Some years later, they moved
to Upper Weyanoke where Mr. Douthat died. In the family circle as we
found it were Mrs. Douthat, three daughters, and two sons.

[Illustration: AN ANCESTRESS OF WEYANOKE.]

[Illustration: CHIEF-JUSTICE JOHN MARSHALL.]

While the conversation ranged wide, from seventeenth century plantation