The Frankfort roundabout., 1907-06-15
written for the Roundabout
FACE TO FACE WITH NATURE.

SO natural it is to the human heart
to fix itself in the possession of hope. |
to look forward to the what is ex-
pected," with serenity and joy at
once pronounced and individual. The
child is bouyed by the innocence of
it's little life, the youth by the virtue
of trusting faith, the middle-aged
calm and patient from long expe-
rience.
The old person content to do all of
the humber, more serious problems
but full of sense of justice at the
hands of God.
Could it have been best the all de-
cessimation of historic birth; the fu-
ture scattering of much beloved and
connected community; the dissipation
of wealth; the final close to family
interest, absolute and altogether for
gotten in the whirlpool of money pow
er. The little spot of ground sacred
to a precious memory, once beautiful
in white panel fencing, flowers and
tomb stone, lose no semblance TO
either care or familiarity.
The very face of thing were changed
beyond recognition, the tree under
which she was sleeping was broken
like the gravestone. The once de-
lightsome cliff side where wild BIOS
SONS and raspberries grew had been
shorn of both treasures; the ground
plowed, and ugly barbed wire inter
posed its length in every direction.
Pig pens and sheep folds were in evil
dence, and the new owners must have
lost knowledge of somebody's darl-
ing sleeping there"
We look beyond the grave of all our
buried hopes, across the old ruins
typical of life, our eyes resting upon
the Elkhorn where little breadths OF
meadow between us, half overgrown
with thicket, deserted with hardly
traceable footpath struggling for ex-
istence beneath the rocks.
Once it was a scene of busy, bust
ling. manufacturing interest but today
"the river ripples and eddies and
murmurs in an utter solitude"
It has passed through the midst OF
thickly peopled country, but to us
never was a stream more lonely. Like
ourself it has made no new compan-
ions.
"It flows on in an infinite seclusion,
neither secret nor threatening, but a
broad space of tender and deep desc
lation. Dropped into repose, out OF the
midst of human labor and life
alone."
Deep down in the dense blue grass
we found our Getsemane. and LOOKED
our last upon the spot where hope
and love had perished.
The village of the once famous
"Steadmantown" is question o
the past Only one or two OF the l:
or IA tenement houses are left to tel
the story of forgotten greatness.
Ine empty, SlleHI SliSlHiih SNi
skeleton of memory; no longer does
the water wheel turn the grist.
The -four and meal ground
~Eben Steadman's mill was as worth
4 mtdal as was ever stamped on
sack or barrel And he, the miller
as grand and noble a character a
ever lived in Kentucky.
The old paper mill was establishes
in 1884. or least remodeled and fitte
for making paper by hand.
Eben and Sam Steadman (brothers
owned about all the real estate in tn
neighborhood, and were wealthy i
other particulars. In 1863 the orde
for paper on which to print Confedel
ate bank notes was given this firm
but Mr.. U. S. said: mot much"
Wells of gas, too, are to be foun
here. and the finest rock for lin
making in the world
If it's true that history repeats i