Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-05-17
SLEEPY CREEK FOLKS

Summer has It's charms for the visitors to
| Sleepy Creek, but there are other seasons,
as well, which afford pleasures of their own.
| There's the fall of the year when the even
ing air is redolent of dead leaves and fresh
sausage meat a-frying; there's the spring
time, when Mr.. Mac takes down the
| choicest jowl from the smoke house rafter
to boil with the greens just sprouting in
| the garden; and there's the depth of winter
the subject of this chapter.
1t was a bitter February day when the
| passenger alighted from the express train
| at the little Sleepy Creek station. The
transition from the warm parlor car to the
| biting mountain atmosphere fairly took
ones breath away. In this mountain alti-
tude there is a difference of ten or fifteen
degrees from the city temperature, summer
and winter.
Old Jim Mosely was waiting on the plat
| form. his face enveloped in an ample COM
| forter,' wound around head and ears, and
| his baggy overcoat reaching to the top of
| his heavy boots.
1--WE crossed the river on the ice today" he
| said There's twelve inches of ice, and six
inches OF snow atop of that But | tell
| you the wind is a-howln' down Sideing
| Hill fit to sweep you away, SO bundle up
| good.''
The wind was bowling, to be sure. 1t
| swept over the SllOW-CONeTeu the
| river in screeching gale, and with an edge
| like a razor. The two pedestrians trudged
| along, crunching through the dry, powdery
| snow that squeaked under their feet. But
| it was glorious; the air was like champagne,
| and the exertion of breasting the gale drove
| the blood through the veins until ones
cheeks tingled again So, up the hill to Mr..
Macs house, and to rest moment on the
veranda, to blow.
| Through the tall pines, up the gorge the
| sinking sun made a red glow the sur
| face of the snow and sent long shadows,
| like black streamers, across the cleared
| spaces. Old Broadback doomed up white
| mass in the distance, and Sideling Hill
| looked cold and frosty, the pines swept clear
of snow by the wind. AS the two men
looked that way, there appeared just for a
moment, in the red path of the sun on the
slope, moving figure.
Gamer" queried the passenger.
you bet. Wen git deer, shore, to-
Inside the house a cheerier prospect ap-
peared. A roaring fire Of hickory logs
blazed in the ample fireplace. casting weird
close to it, rubbing his shins. which almost
scorched, while his back was still cold, and
old Sport the deer hound, lay blinking and
doing. The door into the kitchen opened
and most appetizing odor Of country cook
ing followed Mrs. Mac. into the sitting
ROOM After supper the three men sat
around the fire discussing plans for the
| morrow, and exchanging city and country
| news.
"This here's a queer country, in some
ways" said old Jim Mosely, as he spat with
careful aim at a glowing coal on the end
Of log and extinguished 1t.
"How so2'
well, the country Is all right. but there
shore air some queer people in it. After
local option was done away with and the
county took to issuing liquor license, we all
thought 'moonshining' would be broke up
There's the risk to be run, and the moon
shine liquor amt nigh SO good as the store
liquor, although cheaper. But reckon it's
just because some people Is plumb ornery