: Fighting For Peace by Van Dyke Henry - World War 1914-1918 Personal narratives; World War 1914-1918 Germany World War I

@FreeBooksTue 06 Jun, 2023

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LAND ACROSS THE WATER

Today a causeway, five miles long, connects it with the eastern shore of Virginia. Sometimes, when the sea breaks loose, it swallows the causeway. Then the people on the island are wholly isolated.

For many years now Assateague has been preserved as a wildlife refuge for ponies and deer and migrating waterfowl. On clear days herds of the wild ponies can be seen thundering along its shores, manes and tails flying in the wind.

Assateague, then, belongs to the wild things. But Chincoteague belongs to the people--sturdy island folk who live by raising chickens and by gathering the famous Chincoteague oysters and clams and diamond-backed terrapin. The one big joyous celebration of their year comes toward the end of July on Pony Penning Day. Then the volunteer firemen round up the wild ponies on Assateague, force them to swim the channel to Chincoteague, and pen them up for tourists and pony buyers who come from far and near. Of course, only the young colts are gentle enough to be sold. The money from the auction is used to buy fire-fighting equipment to protect the fisherfolk and chicken farmers who live on Chincoteague.

There is one family whom the firemen look upon as friendly competitors in their yearly pony sale. They are the Beebes--Grandpa and Grandma and their grandchildren, Paul and Maureen. Except for Grandma, whose father was a sea captain, they call themselves "hossmen." They are in the pony business the year around. Their place at the southern end of the island is known simply as Pony Ranch.

STORMY

MISTY'S FOAL

BEFORE THE STORM

The clock on the shelf pointed to five as young Paul Beebe, his hair tousled and his eyes still full of sleep, came into the kitchen. Paul did not even glance at the clock, though it was a handsome piece, showing the bridge of a ship with a captain at the wheel. For Paul, his banty rooster was clock enough.

Grandpa Beebe was bent over the sink, noisily washing his face. He came up for air, his head cocked like a robin listening for worms.

"Just hark at that head rooster!" he grinned, his face dripping. He reached for the towel Grandma was handing him. "That banty," he went on as he mopped his face, "is better than any li'l ole tinkly alarm clock. Why, he's even more to depend on than that fancy ticker yer sea-farin' father brung us from France." He gave Grandma a playful wink. "What's more, ye never have to wind him up, and I never knowed him to sleep overtime."

"Me neither," Paul said, "even when it's cloudy."

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