The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1890-09-11
ARP IN CAMP,
Where Ho is Away From Care and Toll
atlanta Consultation.

ARP IN CAMP.
Where He is Away From Care and Toll.
atlanta Consultation.
1 don't want a lodge in some vast viii
derness as the tired poet did, but it is good
for man to get away from town and 30
ciety once in awhile. Get away from
newspapers and politics and business and
town talk. Get away to some secluded,
attractive spot and rest. a man can read
the newspapers until he gets drawn in
and absorbed in politics and gets excited
and becomes an offensive partisan and gets
to abusing folks, and like Carlyle e1-
claims:
ENGLAND has population of thirty
millions-mostly fools" He calls to mind
the old time, honored maxim, "Vox po-
pull vox Dei," and mutters his disgust by
changing it from Del to diaboli and luna
tici and other hard words When he gets
to that state of mind he had better quit
the turbulent haunts of men for few days
and commune with nature and natures
God. The more politics, the less work.
Look round the town and see who are the
principal formentors of political excite
ment. They are the gentlemen of leisure,
the gentlemen who have nothing else to
do. Some of them ere the genteel vaga-
bonds Of society who never do a lick of
work, but are supported by their kin. Of
course, We have to have some of that sort
TO make up society, but l could never see
why. The man who has to work all day
hasent much time and inclination for pol
itics, and I have noticed that the best far
mers are the most lukewarm alliancemen.
When man works hard all day De is too
tired to run about or ride three or four
miles at night to attend meeting. l
know some farmers who have quit their
farms pretty much and keep on the war
path hunting Office, and I do hope they
will get it, for their diligence deserves
success. The trouble, though, is that Of
Gees are scarce and the wanters are many,
and so that gets up strife and contentious.
These disturbances agitate the body pol
itic for awhile, but in due time they will
subside and everything ba calm and se-
rene.
was ruminatiDg about this while re-
clining "sub tegmine f.gi," which is near.
ly all the Latin I remember. Our tent is
pitched right at the foot of mountain,
and within ten feet of a crystal spring
that gushes from its base. Laurel bushes
and ivy and mountain ferns adorn the
rocky sides just over the spring, and
grassy glade spreads out below it and
follows the little stream to the river.
Right in front of US looms up higher
and darker and sleeper mountain that
shuts us in from sunlight for half the
morning. L. is covered close with pines
and fir trees, except where an occasional
cliff shows its barren wall and invites you
to the top Of lis dizzy precipice. This
mountain seems awful near, but between
US and its base flows the wide, foaming
current of the Etowsh, dashing and
sparkling. over the shoals, moaning and
complaining its way with unremitting
sound, and seeming TO sing the poets
sung
Men may come, and men may so,
But go on forever.
Does the water never get tired !? The
little stream that starts from Lake Itssca
has 1000 miles to go before it reaches the
gulf and it takes year to make the long
journey-a year by day and by night, and
and then finds no rest, for its waters are
mingled with the restless sea whose wa
tiers cast up mire and dirt and are ever
moaning to the shore.
1t is a peaceful luxury to recline in
camp chair and survey the majesty of pa.
ture and listen to her song. Up the
stream and down aud in the coves that
separate these lofty mountains, are the
ruins of a once happy and prosperous
settlement. The immense furnace stack
breathes fire no more The long high
walls of machine shops and foundries and
-four mills are still notwithstanding in
their stony strength without floors, or
roofs or timbers. Pines aud sycamores
and blackberries have grown up inside
and outside, and wild vines have covered
the walls. until in many places the ruins
show nothing but the huge doors and long
lines of open windows.
The shadows of evening bring over the
scene wild, weird look of desolation
that calls to mind Hoods Haunted
House,
The tempest with its spoils had drifted in,
Till each unwholesome stone was darkly
spotted
AS thickly as the leopard's dappled skin,
With leaves that rankly rotted.
Over all there hung shadow and fear
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,
And said as plain as whisper in the ear,
This place is haunted
In the coves and dells and along the
foothills the humble working people lived
in wooden houses with massive stone
chimneys. The 6rebrand of war destroy.
ed these humble homes, but the chimneys
are there, secreted among the trees and
vines as if ashamed of the work that man
had done and hiding from the light. I
have visited these ruins often, but find
many sentinels I never found before. I
found one near thirty feet in height, and