Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1912-04-05
/ were her first trip.

1t were her first trip
From the station we started down
King street You already know we were
a long time looking at the flowers, the
pretty palms, and beautiful homes that
are to be seen on that street. But we
finally passed them all. and reached the
slave market We walked up to the
block and my friend said to an old gem
tIeman sitting near, This is where the
slaves were sold, Is Is not?" They
tell me they never sold none here" was
his reply. But she said. THAT was what
they told me when 1 was here. They
tell you anything here" was his an
swer He told us he was from Iowa.
you must be enjoying your trip here.
There is so much to be seen," 1 ven
tured. There is nothing here, but mos
quitoes and aligators." There ought to
have been a lot of history in that block
for him. His whole yankee heart ought
to have gone out In sympathy for the
slave mothers that saw their children
sold there. And not far from there
stood a monument with the names of a
dozen or more heroes of long ago,
engraved on It with the epitaph: They
died far away from the land that gave
them birth, from home and loved ones.
but loved and honoredF'
However, nothing seemed to be there
for him, so we left him for the mos
duitoes and aligators TO devour, If they
liked. such a sour morsel, and went on
to catch a car that would carry us to
Anatasia island, where we could see
the ocean.
The ride was fine. With the great white
waves of the ocean, resembling long
lines of snow white clothes stretched
out before US. the pretty trees that we
didn't know just what to call until we
heard some of the passengers say 1T
spreadeth forth as a green bay tree"
and there was the light house. towering
far above all else. But the scenery
is too much for me. There was an ALI
gator farm on the island and in build
ing at the entrance were many interest
ing things to be seen.
Mounted alligators. rattlesnakes, sea
turtles, shells of every sort and size.
There was a barrel of petrified pork
Just as II was picked up, from the sea
shore, supposed to have been on a
wrecked vessel. You could see the back
bone, the hams, and all just as 1t had
been packed, but they were almost white
as marble.
We waited a few minutes for the car,
and soon we were back to the city. We
walked down Treasury street Noise
seemed useless, but on it went. 1t was
surely a place for the eye to lose itself
while the Imagination goes on and on.
we picked up a few shells and little
of the pretty white sand, and left the
shore, thanking Him that even the
winds and seas obey. for the privilege
of just looking on His marvellous works.
To the musuem, in what they told us
was the oldest house IN the United
States. The post cards there were
enough to amply repay one for making
the trip, must say regardless of
where they may live?
1t was amusing to watch and listen to
the visitors, as they selected cards.
isn't this a pretty view?' This is
the prettiest." This is what / want"
and, to tell the truth. one couldn't help
wanting them all, and it did seem too
much TO think that ones pocketbook
must have a bottom in a place like that,
but just the same it's never far to the
bottom with some Of us, and for fear of
reaching it. we went on to the fort.
Now, there is nothing can tell about
this place that would interest you, but
possibly a bit of our experience. My
friend, not wishing to go out on the
battlement, remained at the entrance,
while / went up with the crowd. Not
wishing to keep her waiting, 1 came
back alone, only to find her gone, and
the door locked. At first l thought Of a
joke, but / must confess there was no.
body to laugh.
i was glad not to have time to think
twice before the man came from out of
some of those ancient walls and un-
locked the door. She said she told him
she had friend out there, but he told