The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1893-11-15

hollow I'm the hills where one of those
pleasant surprises occurred which go to
prove how song may consecrate a To-
cality. A river, not very broad or deep,
but with certain special grace and
character of it's own, lay in front Of our
track. We had a good view of It as
we came near the wooden uestle bridge
by which the line was carried across
structures which, until you become &C
climatiZed to American travel, always
make you wonder whether they Will
carry the train this time safely over.
The river ran down from the Georgian
hills In a lively current broken some
times into rapids and little cataracts
where the red and black rocks lay across
its channel and then widening out into
picturesque reaches bordered by thick
cts of dark green foliage and clumps OF
cypress and willow. In the clearings,
here and there between the woods which
bOrdered il, stood isolated negro cot
tages. around which you could see little
black children at play, and the inyari-
able pig, which is the house guest OF the
niger as we'll as of the lrishman. "A
punt was gliding along on the quiet
part OF the stream with negro on
board dragging a fishing-line, and the
black buzzards circled over the maize
helds. 1t was not striking scene, but
beautiful In its way, glided as 1t was by
the rays of a magnificent sunset. let L
should have forgotten il in few min
other rivers which the rushing tram
had traversed, had it not been that L
happened to ask the conductor what
was the name OF this particular water.
Quite carelessly he answered, "That S
the Suwanee river, misterr'
The Suwanee riveri In a moment the
stream had for me new and extra
ordinary interest. had not even KNOWN
that there such a river in geo
graphical reality or that it flowed
through Georgia; and yet, here 1t was
real. authentic. alive-leaping down
through the southern forests, past the
maize fields and the cotton flats, TO pour
itself into the Gulf of Mexico In an
instant everything around appeared to
be full of the song that all the world
sings. "Way Down Upon de SuWanee
Riber." The live oaks seemed to wave
it in the evening air; the stream seemed
TO sing IL as it hustled over the rocks;
the birds in the thickets had it in the
soft musical notes we caught, and the
crickets and katydids beginning their
sunset chirrup joined in the half-heard
chorus. The journey. was no longer
de Suwanee Tiber" was to have come
to a corner of America dedicated TO that
deep emotion of our common humanity
the love of home. Is there anybody
who has not felt the charm Of the sim
pie niger melody?
When I was playfn' wild my brudder
Happy was /,
O. take me to my kind old mudder,
Oar let me lib and die.
All de world am sad and dreary
Everywhere l roam;
o. darkies, how my heart grows weary,
Far from de old folks at home
There, indeed. were the old folks at
home. white-haired darby sitting on
a log by the cottage door stripping
maize-cObs; and, stumbling about among
the pigs and poultry, old Dinah with a
yellow bandana on her silver locks
grooming some song, which might per-
haps be the song of the river. So, after
all, it was real and there was a Suwa-
nee river, and the sunny peace and
beauty Of il were Just what fitted well
with the sentiment of that touching and
tender air which has gone all through the
world because it holds in its unaffected
music the secret of the pathetic retro
SpectS of life. Just the spot il was to
which a tired man. be he Niger or
otherwise, might look back to with at
tachment and affection. We travellers
coming suddenly upon it and leaving it
at thirty miles an hour had of course
nothing but the most fitting concern
with "de Suwanee Riber" But one
could imagine how dear it might be to a
native born. and how sincere the original
emotion was of the song-writer, or else
of some darby from whom he borrowed
it, TO write and set to such soft and
sympathetic music. "Dare's where my
heart is turning ever" HencefOrward
for me that Georgian stream, with the
dark groves fringing il, and the red
crags, and the quiet reaches of silver
water gilded by the setting SUM- has a
place I'm the thought among the famous
rivers Of the globe; and / never hear the
melancholy music of the popular niger
lament without a new feeling of what
song can DO, far beyond history and i'm
pOrtant events, TO consecrate a spot in
nature forever and to localiZe a univer-
sal sentiment. EFT Ego in Arcadia l.
too, have been way down upon de
Suwanee riDer."