Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1904-08-19
PRETTY MONTEREY.
The Mountain Resort On The
Tennessee Central Railroad.
The pleasures of Living AT Hotel
Cumberland In the Tennes
see fountains.


through all its mazes and meander-
iugs, were she kind enough to lead
all OF us by the same route, and'that
route the Tennessee Central. we
would not call her a phantom, of
which we hear so much and see so
little, but reality.
Nature, everywhere on this line
as the cars speed forward, throws
her gifts in the passengers path.
This takes the form of rich fields
of following grass, yellow and
white daisy roadsides, and hills
checkered with soft feathery groves
and fields of stacked grain waiting
to be threshed. So drenched with
the scent of clover was the air. that
experienced the sensation of eat
ing honey. So abundant was the
clover that it streaked and splotched
the meadows until they looked like
huge Persian rugs laid out to sun.
Most of it was red, much punk, but
some was indisputably blue.
After the T. c. leaves Nashville
it passes through that part of Ten
nessee called "the garden spot.
Certainly nature has left nothing
unrevealed. Roads bordered with
wild flowers wound around the
edges of the hills, and cutting tuD-
nels through woods so thick as TO
look, at a distance, like beds Of
moss, and the green and purplng
hills from which flowed many a
stream to twist along the slipping
edges of farms in the valleys.
We passed the Hermitage and
stopped at the historical estate
long enough to see the beautiful
fields rising, terrace like, one above
the other, that seemed to be covered
with green velvet. There were
magnificent woodlands, resent bling
parks, with stately oaks, beach
and chestnut trees, under which
herd of Shorihorns were resting.
The house cannot be seen from the
station, but the plantation, seen in
the red glow of an August sunset
brought to mind how rich Teunes-
see is in history, with the dust Of
three Presidents minglipg with the
sod
It's not my desire to weary one
with kodaks all along the line Of the
road Anyway, night was closing
Iou us when our train reached
Carthage Junction, and far off We
could see the mountains losing
themselves in the coming darkness,
and westward the bars of red
showed where the sun had gone
down. 1t was lovely night, for on
all things underneath the heavens
Iay d semblance OF repOse. We
could feel ourselves ascending the
mountains and hear the laboring OF
the engine as we sat comfortably
back on our plush seats and
thanked the marvels of modern en-
gjneering for pulling us up the
Cumberland heights In safety.
At CJokeville, three stations from
Monterey, a juvenile baseball team
boarded the train, accompanied by
party from this place. They
were returning from playing the
Cookeville team, and pandemonium
reigued supreme; although they had
been beaten, their spirits were not
dampened in the least, and they
continued tossing the ball over our
heads,
Our train reached Monterey at
half past nine, and bus was wait
ing to convey the passengers to the
/ Cumberland Hotel, an ideal hotel
for a summer resort one could see
at glance, when we stopped at the
main entrance and the brilliantly
lighted hall and grand stairway
burst upon our sight. We were
met by Mr. F Miller the kindest of
landlords, our rooms given us, and
in !e1 minutes one of the passen-
gers was asleep, famed by the
soft breezes Of the mountains.
Three days on this mountain has
convinced the writer that it is at all
events happy incident that casts
) ones lot at Hotel Cumberland, in
the suburbs of Monterey, situated
upon a "bike' of the Cumberland