, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

They remounted their horses and rode down river until they came to an immaculate house with gardens and grounds to match. “Mr. Juliand’s place” announced the Esquire.


“Garnsey, old friend” came a slightly French accented voice; it came from somewhere within a large group of flowering bushes. A fairly tall man, thin in structure, emerged from behind the bushes. His posture was erect, his dark hair meticulously kept and his clothes were made of rich cloth. Striding confidently and with the command presence of a born leader he met the two men. They were already half way down the path that ran between the road and his home.


“Mr. Juliand, I would like you to meet Mr. Birdsall. He is looking to purchase a piece of land in our beautiful Chenango Valley” announced Esquire Garnsey.


“Wonderful intentions” responded Mr. Juliand. He continued “Come, tie your horses. Come inside. I will have a man tend to them while we have a cool drink.”


The two riders dismounted and tied their horses to two of the six obelisk stones that were planted upright at the end of the path. Each stone was magnificently carved to form a square cross-section with chamfered corners. There was not one sharp corner on which a horse could accidently injure itself. Each of the four foot tall stones had a perfectly round hole through which a rope could be passed to tie the horses.


Mr. Juliand called out firmly, but not harshly, “Samuel!” A tall strongly built black man appeared from an outbuilding. Grandfather counted three carriages in the building. To one side of this large structure a shed was attached; it held a small blacksmith shop.


“Could you please attend to these men’s horses?” Mr. Juliand asked of Samuel. Samuel answered with a wave of his hand and a smile. Grandfather noticed, as Mr. Juliand led the way into his house, that Samuel promptly untied the horses and led them to the carriage house.


© wtomosky