The true northerner., 1879-10-24
An Old National Pike Stager.

Another survivor of the old pike
is Samuel Nimmy-a patriarchal At
rican, who played tambourine" for
Gen. jackson, and drove on the road
for many years. He is an odd mixture
of shrewdness, intelligence and ego
tism. His recollections are vivid and
detailed in point of names and dates,
although he is SO years old, and he de-
scribes his experiences in grandiose
manner that is occasionally made deli
cious by solecisms, or sudden lapses
into negro colloquialisms. He lives in
q comfortable cottage at Hagerstown;
the walls of his parlor are hung with
certificates of membership in various
chromos; the center table is loaded
with books, principally on negro eman-
clpation and the events of the civil war.
he continues a narrative in formal
phrases and measured sentences for
long time without hesitating, and then,
perhaps, name slips him, and he MUIR
murs, Billy, Billy, Billy; Tom, Tom,
Tom; Jack, Jack, Jack" until the
elusive cognomen is caught.
West of Cumberland the road was
bordered by an extraordinary growth of
pines, the branches of which were SO
lntermeshed that they admitted very
little daylight, and from its prevailing
darkness the grove was called the
Shades of Death" Uncle Sam Nimmy
and others declared that on the most
effulgent day not ray ever penetrated
it, and that it was absolutely black,
which is piece Of picturesque exag
geration. 1t was very dark, however,
according to the statements of more ex-
act observers, including Mr.. B. F Rein
hart, the well-known painter, and it
afforded a favorable opportunity for
highwaymen. Il had very keen team,
sir" says Uncle Sam-"a very keen
team, indeed; and nobody knows more
about horse than I do. 1 drove that
team, sir, nine months without the least
sickness to the horses, and fatter my
self that we had some rough service"
The fattery that Uncle Sam applies to
himself is immense. "Well, sir, one
night as 1 was driving through the
Shades of Death with a few passengers;
1t was darker than usual; it was CHM
merian-Cimmerian, sir; and one
said to me, Don't you hear the
sound OF horses walkingp' listened,
and listened, and listened. did hear
the sound of walking, and seemed to see,
although it was so dark, several figures in
the wood. Some one then opened the
pistol case and examined the weap-
ons; the flint had been removed from
each pistol, and about that time, sir,
my hair began to get curly. The pas
sengers didn't like the way affairs
were looking, and I thought that if
big men were scared there was no
reanon why little one shouldn't be
scared, too" Uncle Sam is very dimin-
utive; and, after acknowledging his
trepidation, he repeated, in a manner of
great candor: II admit, sir, 1 was
scared, and 1 just assure you, gentle
men, that L made every horse tell until
we came to q tavern. But / wasn't
naturally timid; I was puzzled as to
how the fiints came out of those pistols,
and we could never unravel the mys-
terry. I've had varied ife, sir, and al
ways took an interest in general travel,
to see if anyone was bigger than was.
l started company of volunteers in
the war, and then started lodge, and
bought up all the blue cambric there
was in town for sashes. We had pa
rade, and Hagerstown's never seen the
like since she became tavern. Next /
started the Sons of Freedom, and came
III contact with the law, because it was
supposed we had an underground rail
road in hand. / was indicated, of
course, and was as big as dog at hog
killing. l was born on the Goth of
August, 1913, and am just as bright as
l ever was. I've been frozen on the
box, but never allowed anybody to COM
pose upon me; can't Jump as high as
used to could, and that's the only diff
ference between me now and twenty
years ago. Gentlemen, make you my
most humble obedience" he said; and
as we left he called after us, "Don't for
get the date-Aug 30, 1793."-W. II.
Rideia1g, in Harper's Magazine.