Another legendary tale in which Scarsdale takes much pride is that, during the Revolution, one of the British generals, presumably Sir William Howe, hearing of the existence of the Bronx and imagining it to be navigable, ordered the coinnninder of the fleet, then lying at New York, to sail up the river in time to ]iarticipate in the battle of White Plains. As the depth of the river at no point in its course along the border of the town was much over three feet, the humor of the legend may be ajjpreciated by all. The following poem, from the pen of William A. Butler, the poet, appeared in the Scarsdale Gleaner during the summer of 1875, and fitly expresses the state of the case :

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SCARSDALE.

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" After rockets, and liliie-liglitK, ami so forth,

( In the iiiglit of the glorious Fourth, At Miiihiight I tliought I would go forth

To the Bronx, fairest stream of the North ; There I met the old naval commander

(Or his ghost), in a shocking bad hat, Who was onlereil up hero to meander

With his fleet, and his guns, and all that ; He stoiKl where the water was w ettest --

It almost came over his shoes -- And he cried. Ml my 5H)ul that regrettcst

The glory the Kates did refuse. What a mercy to all these Scarsdalers --

That they in this stream couldn't lie; For at once with my frigates ami sailors

I had blown their rebellion sky-high, When these shores, which I now have my eye on.