The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1903-09-09
In a Cooler Cline.

am writing, Mr.. Editor, from a
section ofthe Land of the Sky Known
as Skyland. n. c. TO day is the tirst
day Of rest !. have taken since leav-
ing home; but now / am quiet, un-
disturbed. lazy, haif-asleep, ana l
propose that no one shall impose any
burden upon me-no burden Of any
kind. I am sejourning at Bonny
Crest Cottage. To MY left is the
railroad that ctings TO the western
slope OF Brown Moantain-named
doubtless after me. Or then before
NE: in frouts two or three hundred
wards away, is the Mineral Springs
Hotel, where the guests heads pro-
srude from the windows like martin
heads from gourds on pole; to my
right and far away. is Mt. Plsgah, !,
next te Mt. Mitchell, the highest
peak east of the Rockies. We made
the.ascentof Pisgah on Tuesday last.
Oathis Journey I may say u Wora
further on, If do not fall asleep be-
fore coming TO that part OF my tor
tuous narrative. In my rear, not
fifty yards away, is the first house
Bill Nve owned in this section, and
in which he lived while his more
pretentious home was being erected
near Fletcher. Four miles away,
southwark, at Calvary Eplscopai
Church, between Arden d Fietcher,
Is Bill Nye's grave. unmarked ana
unkept. At the head, q little tree IS
growing. and some one has laid there
q rude piecd of stone picked up on
the highway. A memorial window
was set ND in the nearby church oy
Mrs. Nye; but the grave itself is neg
leceed. am wondering il l could
not set on foot IN South Carolina
some plan to erect monument at
the grave OF this man whose writings
ne used TO read with so much pleas
nre from week to week. The story
is afioat here that Bill left fifty thou
sand dollars TO his widow, the result
OF his labors with his pen, but all of
this was lost in the breaking OF two
banks-one in Asheyille and one IN
the North-where Mrs. Nye had &C.
posted her money; aud out OF the
wreck she saved nothing but the
money she recovered for her home
near Fletcher, which is known in the
Nye parlance as '.my perpendicular
farm Rumor also Informs US that,
for years, Bill made manful fight
against pulmanary troubles, and
when weakened away, died Of some
brain disease. During all those
years of suffering, he continued to
send out the merry, sparkling letters
to the papers, which made his name
famous throughout the United
States. The fact is pathetic-ae
loved Co make others laugh, while he
himself was slowly being consumed
BY malady ssincurable. Alongside
of Nye,s grave is the grave OF his
daughter, who died here IN the
mountains, plRcked from the treas
ured jewels Of his heart, and whom
he quietly buried away among the
hills. but Of whose going off he had.no
word to say in the letters he was
then engaged in writing, over which
the world would laugh and be merry.
How true it is,
.sThe face not always shows what's
in the heart,
Whether Of JOY or sorrow. Griefs
there are
Which stand like weeping angels In
the soul,
With mournful piuions folded,
While on the brow the. rainbow arch
.of peace may rest,
Though formed from mists which
rise from falling tears
The Southern Railway has bad
name here in these mountains. The
trains, like death, ..nave all seasons
for their own,' and seem 30 run
without regard TO any fixed and de-
finite schedule. The road. bed,
though heavily baflasted with
broken stone, is weakened by rotten
cross ties, aud from time to tire re-
ports come in of spreading rails and
run away freight trains which go
tearing down these frighsful grades
at the rate of hundred miles an
hour, to be crushed into splinters at
last when the powerful engines are
no longer able to stay on the spread
ing rails. Between Saluda and Mel
rose, there is scrap iron enough TO
build train of cars, all the result or
the various runaways. These ire
quent wrecks are the talk OF the
tourist. anu nucl fIaENi Will oS ooiiS
TO the how of travel unless the
Southern system does somsshlng to
remedy them before another season.
Shortly after my arrival in these
diggins, my friend, Motto Lesesne,
of Silver, bantered me for a trip to
Mt. Pisgah. I Knocked the chip
from his shoulder, and on Monday
last, we set out-two wagon loads OF
ps-several from, Sumter-two from
Savannah. aud sporads from other
places-six women, three men,
and two boys: We car
rfed blankets and quilts and bread
and canned food of sundry sorts, in
tending 10 camp when necessary and
sleep upon 1.-The palpitating bosom
Of mother earth, beneath the oiue
canister Of heaven" as an ancient
friend of mine used to say. We did
not exactly carry out our intentions,
as the SEQUEL will show. After
rhirsy-mile drive, we came at night
fall to the home of a Mr.. Warren, who
lives at the foot of Pisgah. His spa
cious (?) home had three rooms,