CHAPTER XI 



THE TRANSYLVANIA — CORNING HAVEMEYER 



The woodlands were inviting in the October sun- 

 shine, but all roads leading to Lexington were 

 crowded with pleasure seekers. Only those fettered 

 by labor heard the noon-day songs of birds in orchard 

 and meadow, or counted ears of golden corn. The 

 women wore their smartest frocks and the men were 

 groomed as if for a wedding. It was Transylvania 

 Day, and the holiday fever took possession of the 

 community. The whisper had gone all over Blue 

 Grass land that the Phoenix and other hotels were 

 crowded to the roof with visitors from distant cities 

 who literally fought for places at the dinner table, 

 and the country could not resist the desire to mingle 

 with the town. The good church people did not go 

 to the track to see the horses. Oh, no. The magnet 

 for them was the musical programme. The band 

 concerts excused in a measure the betting shed at the 

 far end of the grand stand and the clink of glasses 

 underneath. How rosy were the cheeks of the girls, 

 what depths of light in their eyes, and how graceful 

 their movements ! You have not seen the best fruits 

 of Blue Grass until you have strolled on the lawn 

 and looked up at the crowded grand stand on Tran- 

 sylvania Day. It is; a bright picture that you gladly 



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