The Democrat. (Scotland Neck, Halifax Co., N.C.) 1884-1896, 1885-07-16
quence Of school-boy days one breaks

quence Of school-boy days one breaks
forth,
eye crags and peaks, I'm with you once
again.
| Now we fit with whirling speed past
the pond, dotted on its bosom and SEN
tried by its edge with focks of Cabling
geese then passing some tall cliff near
the rickety old mill whose grindings have
long since ceased, and over whose rusty
wheels and shelving dam the mountain
stream still pours Its roaring cataract.
For moment the joys Of the hour are
shut off from the mind-a pensive mood
steals DER the soul, and spirit whispers
some meaning lines from the proverb of
the mill.
that once are shed,
And the sickle cannot reap corn once
gathered.
And the rippling stream flows en-, tram
quill, deep, and still,
Never gliding back again to the water
mill.
Truly speaks the proverb old, with a
meaning vast
The mill will never grind with the water
that is past.
Now our Railroad track is tracing the
winding course of the shimmering Tuck
aseigee. There rises before us beside
the Outbound stream mountain high.
handicapped, and subllme-along its
side "where the tree-shadows lie deep
and just above the full>grown fern, the
mountain laurel looks down upon us
with tints of beauty rare. A sudden halt
and gallant teachers, with bounds that
almost equal Bessie's that stilied the
curfew bell, ascend the cliffs and strip
bare the craggy lodges in obedience to
the soft, imperious tones of sweet voices
below.
Now again we speed away past the
swarthy Indian resting beside his dusky
mate. Modest teachers of much reserve
are clapping their hands with the excla-
nation, 'sI'm so happy!'' Our train pulls
up at the little village of Charleston few
miles from the Nantahala we hoped to
see, and the first half of our grand excur.
sion is ended. We refresh ourselves with
the cooling draught from the wells of thu
mountain valley and are ready to return
While the railroad man is turning
round his car one sentimental soul of oul
, happy number has wandered off on tn
, mountain side to gather for her whom h
e leaves resting in the shade, wild moin
f tain rose as memento of the grand ex
} cursion day-and just as the bell taps, tn
S love sick swain, with beaming eyes, skip
e down the lane from behind the hills an
is Just in time to save his seat as we NOV
o off on our return.
I 'sThe happiest excursion I ever saw,
Y once said, goes through the cars repeate
\ by almost every one. Not one sad fac
t in all the company. A lady of muc
a culture remarked to the writer that sh
j, had travelled much, and not among tn
a hills of New Hampshire or along tn
, Hudson had she behold scenery so grand
so wild, so picturesque. and withal s
S beautiful. At Waynesville for the night
e Mr.. J. G. Timberlake, the clever propri
etor of the Haywood White Sulphu
e Springs Hotel, gives us comfortable loda
t ing, and our rest is truly sweet.
, The morning dawns with all the beau
' ties of cloudless sky in the m ountaln'
S Till O'Clock we wander here and thel
in groups of various numbers-mostl
:, two--and satisfy, as far as possible, on
" eyes and souls with the inexpressibl
n beauties of this gladstone place.
3 We step on board the cars, soon to b
u separated for another years toilscm
e rounds in our good and happy worl
u And as we glide down the mountain:
u leaving behind us this beautiful LAND
Il the Sky methinks that all would gladl
" Join in one united strain:
II love my country's vine-clad hills,
If Her thousand bright and gushing rills,
j. Her sunshine aid her storm
g Her rough and rugged rocks that rear,
-, Their heavy heads high in the air,
= In wild, fantastic forms.''
E. E. billiard.