The semi-weekly messenger., 1904-08-12

Il was tar froni the rad of today g.
rolling stock. speed and eQEipment-
cnai outcome. took place on the war
saw Inc about O year before the civil
war. The United States mali wa4- cut
on the coach either at one % the relay
stables or ON the route. and ssyer1l
Fayetteville merchants. making remit
tances TO the north. suffered loss.
Shortly after the war. while the late
George Lander was postmaster In the
building on the corner of Hay and
Burgess streets. he one day called
passing citizen into the office. and
handed him q letter. addressed in the
citizens own handwriting. to his son
at the University OF Virginia ana dated
in the spring oe 1850. A closer exarni-
nation OF the letter which had been silt
open at the end. disclosed a 80 bfu on
n Charlotte bank. which he had sent
10 the lad At oollege. Mr.. Lander ex-
planned that a set of mail bags had
been found the day before in Cohsr.e
swamp and had been sent up TO Fay
ettev1lle-and this was the finale Of the
stage coach robbery the year before
the war. The robber or robbers had
cut open the citizens letter on Its way
To the University OF Virginia. but the
$40 bill had been put in 50 carefully
that they failed tn find IL. and tossed
the letter aside.
On the Raleigh route. which crossed
the Cape Fear river by the Clarendon
bridge. at Fayetteville. the nrst Few.
miles were by plank road but the re-
mainder was heavy travel. with n
country more and more broken. the
nearer the approach TO Raleigh. Tn.
supper house was kept by Mrs. Bar
clay. and its fune reached even New
York for travellers were enthusiastic
over its merits, and 1rummeis loudly
sounded Sts praises When the stags
was about q half or three fourths OF
a mile from Mrs. Barclays. the coacn-
man would take his horn: and. after
a prelude and a flourish. would give
a sharp blast for each passenger, thaS
the cook might know how many she
was to feed. The traveller, after
long ride, was naturally sharp-set
when he reached this land Of fatness"
in the wilderness, and was prone to
exaggerate the excellence OF the things
set before him; but at was fine fare u
the most fastidious Of tastes. l know.
for haye been there myself. The hot
biscuits, the light rolls. the waffles,
the batter cakes, the fried chiken. the
broiled ham, the rich milk and butter.
the strong. fragrant coffee-ail made
up the reputation OF Mrs. Barclays
supper house.
The Stage line from Fayetteville TO
Salem was a late enterprise and OF
|
longer than the other two. 10 miles.
and included the towns Of Carthage
and Asheboro. But at the end OF the
journey the passenger had the choice or
two OF the best country taverns IN all
the country-one kept by DR.. Zevely
and the other by Mr.. Butner. It was
a country of abundance OF which the
guest got the full benefit at the table
of either house. At that time there
was not the bare beginning OF the
town OF Winston. and old Salem held
its own in charming the wayfarer In
all its quaintness and Moravian aim
plicity. One never tired OF studying
its honest, candid people. their sweet.
homely mode of life, anG their pretty.
old-world customs. There was no os-
tentation, no pretension. in their lives
from day to day; and the stranger,
musing for an hour in their quiet
graveyard saw human pride rebuked
in the humility OF the Last resting
place, where simple SLABS. laid fiat on
the sod told where slept alike the low
ly and the great.
The old-time Patrol was still the
guardian of the night in that old fash
ioned town; and away in the silent
hours of darkness the guest at Zeve-
ly's or Butner's would awke from q
deep sleep, in a room garnished with
quaint wood cuts of George Washing
ton, Frederick the Great. and Father
ZinZindOrf, on sheets sweet with layen-
dar to catch the tramp on the street
f1ag-stones Of the hob-nailed shoes OF
the night watchman, and hear him call.
in a voice as solemn as the muzzein
summons to prayer from the minarets
Of the Orient: Twelve O'Clock and ail's
well!
All, the swinging, rocking motion Ct
the stage has given me a sound siecp.
Where are we now, driver? Taking on
a fresh team for the last stage OF the
journey? May We never. never again
go back on the way left behind, wncrc
the quail is piping frtsn the stu3ble.
the children are playing about the
farm house door, the ruddy apples are
hanging low, and the sun is putting
life into the golden gram? How fast
the river seems on ahead there, and
how deep and dark are the shadows
on the bank And over on the other
side are the murmer OF many voices.
and the rustling OF teh garments OF
thousands passingplaceb. a Mr. iicfo
thousands pressing onward. Go on.
o rugged and kindly Jenu; take your
horn, and sound blast Of challenge
and barley! The worn wayfarer has
reached the outer portal, and he is
nearing home at last. j. II. II.
ATtO