As she came near he dismounted and approached her like a Chesterfield and together they walked across a meadow, up the hill through the apple orchard, sweet with bloom, to the Shrader home.  As they walked along he explained why he had come in the early morning instead of the afternoon as was his custom.  He had decided that the day was so lovely they would like to go to Pigeon Forge that morning to the "quarterly meeting" which was being held at that place, a distance of several miles.  Polly was delighted beyond words for she had a nice new saddle and a horse of her very own that she rode everywhere she wished to go at any time she chose.  While she dressed in her prettiest attire, her lover saddled her horse, and in a few minutes they were off for the "big meeting" as it was often called.

To see Polly Anne Shrader and George W. Webb ride away that Sunday morn in mid-springtime was to behold a picture, that those who did so have not forgotten to this day.  She wore a green bodice, with a kind of tam to match it, both were made by her own hands and of wool that she had spun and dyed and fashioned herself.  Her skirt was of the same material, but did not show while on the horse, for in those days when women rode side saddles they first donned a long black riding skirt that reached within about two feet of the ground.  Polly's horse was black while her saddle and bridle almost matched her reddish coppery colored hair.  She made a most striking picture.  George W. Webb was dressed in a suit of broadcloth, not homespun, as one might be led to believe.  He was an Englishman and knew it but he had jet black hair and eyes that he had inherited from his maternal grandmother, who was said to have been an Indian princess that fell in love with a man by the name of Gregory and married him, leaving one daughter, Elizabeth, who became the wife of James W. Webb, the father of George W., the lover of Polly Shrader.

For several miles this couple rode along rather slowly for George W. was a serious minded man, or youth, I should say, for he was about 19 years of age, more than six feet tall.  As they traveled along this ancient old trail over which the Cherokees for ages had traveled, they became engaged in the conversation that was quite general throughout that part of the country at that time, but Polly Anne did not like to think about wars and rumors of wars and she changed the subject to the delightful beauty of the morning with the wealth of spring blossoms everywhere along the way; all the homes had orchards, and the roadway was lined with redbud, and dogwood and for a time the war and its nearness was forgotten.