Oxford Democrat., 1899-03-21
JOHNS DREAM OF THE PAST.

| JOHNS DREAM OF THE PAST.
i Did ever tell you my dream Of tn
past? II I ever did want TO tell 1t again
although not worth the telling, but
when want to do thing want TO dt
il bad and would like to do It well, a
we'll. Seee
Ii all comes back to me, that early
April morning, when, at the village
called Buckfield, started out In little
car driven by hand on Smiths Folly "a
seek nv fortune in the great Southwest
That Is the starting point Of my dream.
After the hills OF my nativity had
been hidden by some other hills, recall
nothing that was particularly noticeable
and grand until I stood an enchanted
youth in Portland harbor, and for the
first time looked out upon the sea. And
vet II WAS but an arm Of the sea- mere
finger tip as It were. But It's vsstness
filled nv soul completely. think that
nv brain has not shrunk TO its earlier
proportions since that first glimpse OF
the Vastly deep.
Took passage on the U. s. mail packet
Chesapeake, that piled between Porti.nd
and New York city in th0se days. ,Ou'
on the ocean sailing. Jollv, Isn't 10y
Only tht hesviuess that clogs your In
ternsl coutrivauces, and will neither
come up nor go down, will neither sink
nor swim. detrscts largely from your
jollity. You aiso have an abiding con-
viction that He who made the sea, who
comprehended the dust OF the earth In a
mes sure. and weighed the mountains IN
&C lies and the hills in balance, has
YOU cornered where you can't run. That
curbs your jollity slightly and gives YOU
= touch Of seriousness. Should the bot
tom OF the tub drop out-Shy, there you
are, 8 floating sucker-pot, defunct,
meandering mariner, forever on the go !;
a rare and peculiar specimen from the
greatest show on earth, passing In eter-
nal review before the fish-eyed monsters
OF the deep. You are on the ragged
edge over q horrible hole, aud the de-
termin alton flames up within you, thst,
IL permitted to act your brogsus on solid
soil, from that time forth you will foot IL
In ways that are clean. You feel that
you would pay boot for "dry death"
At9 O'Clock A. NJ, through a dense
forest OF shipping we steamed into New
York harbor. Such proceeding differs
slightly from the scbool-boy act OF polling
your raft through cst-tsils up the diminu-
tive bsy that makes out OF "LowelIs
Brook" But for downright enjoyment
give me the raft, the cat-tsils, the little
cove, the wonderful brook OF my child
hood-,Iad the childhood.
That morning brought TO me the first
glimpse of poverty or economy gone TO
seed, In the performance OF slouchy
old Mother In Israeli industriously
wingiug dabs cf -four from the filthy
wharf to dingy pail. She eiaged II
with knife.
A misty, moisty, drizzly day. Didn't
give up the ship till the day WAS far
spent, then took hack, or a hack took
me, to some station somewhere. Found
two millions Of clamorous boys waiting
for me, each anxious 10 tighten nv
burdens By "sscking" my gripssck, but
I grlpped the sack and stormed the en-
trance. In the cars at last with thank
ful heart and ticket for Parkersburg.
Shall ever forget that wild night-ride
OF the past sts-thst troubled dream OF
long ago, with the nightmares gsllopins
bv; Dying for wink OF sleep. nut never
a wink wsnk | A hssty overflow from
the ears st midnight into what-wss-it.
| did not realize st the time, but now
know we were crossing the Delaware
not as Washington crossed IL, but on
bridge. Tramp, tramp, tramp. Hollow
the echoes of hurrying feet. The air
WAS chill. The passage was dimly light
ed. On either hand in black, these warn
ing words: "Look out for Pickpocs-
cts. :" A new experience that pro-
duced new sensstions-sn impression
that we were drawing near hell, but the
chilli atmosphere dissipated that idea.
At the mouth OF the hole were car
risges 10 waiting. Nv hrst entrance
into the City OF Bro,herly Love differed
from that of Ben franklin. Packed like
ssrdines In = box looked out on broad
and brightly illumined streets, and that
alone ia nv dream of PhilSdelphls.
On the train again, snd no, for Bslti-
more, Three o'clock 10 the chill. grey
morning Bobbing for nod before
h.r-room fire in Baltimore. And has II
come 70 thlsf Nodding has become
lost art To me. Nine O'Clock, and the
Citv Of Monuments is thing OF the past
and dream unpleasant.
This train is an exssperstiDgly ac-
commoistiug train, stopping at every
miserable hovel the entire length of old
Virginia 10 let on aud let of humanity,
snd wait for the hens To lay and the
chickens Tn hatch. Grafton. Here l
slep, the sleep OF the just, which went
far toward KNITTING up the raveled
sleeve Of care"
Parkersburg. Ia there anything de-
sirable about its Not thing. And this
then Ia the Ohio, the placid, soft Ohio.
All hail, river Of nv dreams and nv
geography. The "Swsllow" is waiting
10 give me pleasure on its bOsom-tswny
IA the Tiber. How gladly would re-
call the oft-recurring changes In that
wonderful dream as we went gliding
down. but cannot now. NSture was just
ss lavish on the Kentucky shore as the
Ohio. But on the one side was the black
rot OF slavery, on the other the bloom OF
freedom.
Left the steamer at Msysville, Ky., on
the very spot where Daniel Boone first
landed from Virgins just so years be-
fore. I stood upon the green hills Of
Kentucky, thst overlook the city and
wide expanse Of as delightful scenery as
e'er the sun shone on. The grsndest
feature in the landscape Is the placid,
soft Ohio. moving In grand and volcaless
msiesty 10 the warm waters OF the Gulf.
| could but recall the words OF Boone
and catch somewhat OF his enthusiasm
as he stood there and viewed the land
scspe DER. But he saw not the abodes
OF men and the cultivated farms except.
perhaps, with prophetic eye.
But twill not do TO liuger here. Eight
Days from home and not twenty-four
hours of sleep. 1t will not do to break
down here with none To love you. The
kith are vet twelve miles away on the
North Fork Of the Licking River.
The journey is ended. Can now break
drown. broke. A ten days. blank is
pstched In here quite nicely. Three
months follow, replete with pleasant
"reminiscences, then climstic fever and
host Of whims and fancies dancing the
"D.vil's Dream" in sick mans brain.
October. Sitting wan and languid on
the piszzs-porch they call it-watching
the broad, green leaves Of the lime trees
down the long avenue, that float and
a He L. \