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Some foreboding beset me, and I was once close to a full mind for going back, and slacked Cynthia's pace to a trot. But the thought of the pleasures at Upper Marlboro' and the hope of overtaking the party at Mr. Dorsey's place, over the Patuxent, where they looked to dine, decided me in pushing on.
The Gold Dust maverick closed the gap she caught Dash-Away she evened up with Prince John she left the big sorrel behind she passed Say-So nose to nose for a few rods she ran opposite the black wonder the Thunderbolt horse from the Vermejo. Flip Williams, spurs raking the flanks of Dorsey's stallion, looked around.
Douglas Dorsey's parents were sold to Colonel Louis Matair, who had a large plantation that was cultivated by 85 slaves. Colonel Matair's house was of the pretentious southern colonial type which was quite prevalent during that period. The colonel had won his title because of his participation in the Indian War in Florida.
And the same clear thought behind it. Dorsey's nerves were in a shocking state. You could see she had been afraid all the time; from the first day when Mamma had kept on saying, "Has Mary come back?" Dorsy was sure that was how it began; but she couldn't tell you whether it was before or afterwards that she had forgotten the days of the week. Anybody could forget the days of the week.
He promptly replied with a request to visit the place, and see what was being done and what suggestions I could make. Mr. Dorsey's engine at the east end was dispensed with after a long discussion, owing to the noise it would make and the amount of work necessary to its final installation and operation. Among the problems with which the surgeons had to wrestle was that of locating the ball.
One of Dorsey's men met me, and said that they wanted more help, and that Master Mack said I might go and lend a hand. Thinking that he spoke truth, I did not ask permission, but went, and stayed until noon. I soon learned, however, that the man had deceived me. Master Mack, when told by some of the people where I was, sent my brother John after me, with the threat of a whipping.
Crawford 'kept school' in the same little school-house which had been the scene of Dorsey's labors, and the windows were still adorned with the greased leaves of old copybooks that had come down from Dorsey's time. Abe was now in his fifteenth year, and began to exhibit symptoms of gallantry toward the other sex.
Out th' window, says I. Just thin Dorsey's nanny-goat that died next year put her head through th' dure. 'Can't I make ye up a nice supper? says Dorsey. 'Do ye like paper? he says. 'Would ye like to help desthroy a Dutchman, he says, 'an' perform a sarvice f'r ye'er counthry? he says.
Old Heck reddened at Dorsey's words but replied quietly: "The Cimarron is middling just middlin'. No, we ain't been paying much attention to teaching horses how to run lately. Old Quicksilver's pretty fair. Of course he ain't the best horse in the world but he'll do for cows and general knocking around.
Dorsey's father died in Suwannee County, Florida when Douglas was a young man and then he and his mother moved to Arlington, Florida. His mother died several years ago at a ripe old age. Douglas Dorsey, aged but with a clear mind lives with his daughter in Spring Glen. Interview with Douglas Dorsey, living on Spring Glen Road, South Jacksonville, Florida
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