The Birmingham age-herald., 1915-11-16

Do you not like to gaze on an old friends face
 And smile with the love you've known? Then think with tear of the old home place.
 And sigh that it is not your own?
 Isn't it glad to be back on the old hill again
 And look OCT the fields that are wild,
 To think of the sunshine. the clouds, cen the rain
 In which you played as child? Certainly it does one good to get out in
 the woods and peep at nature these au tumn days, The woodlands are aglew
 with gorgeous colors, and they are ex- quisite'y blended that one is convinced the bouquet is made to have some effect on the wandering eye to cause some seri-
 ous thought of the wondrous plan of ere ation. For many years we have travelled the same old route to Blount Springs over the IL. & N" Last Saturday was the first trip over the line since the route was made through different section, open ing up an entirely new country, even building new towns, and the stations, sev eral of them have names of the old plan tation owners who helped to make the community of Blount Springs since long before the war times, when the resort was a favored spot of the south when the waters flowed free to heal the sick iron, over this entire state. and others of those old settlers only the tombs are left. But we were glad to hear the name called as we passed the places. The scenery along the route is gorgeous, the mountains are brilliantly decorated in fall clothing and the rocks are peeping out from beneath the chestnut burrs and brown leaves, na- ture s monuments to mountain country. From the bridge crossing the Warrior river. looking up and down, the eye rests on splendid panorama, as the shaded branches dip into or overhang the waters. Certainly there should be a highway through this country that the people could
 more often get out with the hickory nuts and birds and catch the spirit of freedom that lives in the woods. Reaching Blount Springs just before dark, Rip Van Wrinkle could not have felt so lonesome. There was not semblance of what was, and but one familiar face
 to be seen, and that was faithful Ed
 Brown" who has served as livery driver
 there for 40 years, and even the vehicle
 might have been the same Ed has been
 promoted to mail carrier, and he realizes
 the dignity of the office. as he gave us the
 history of How I come to git the job.''
 and he is faithful i'll the discharge of his
 duties. So faithful that he gave us a
 circuitous drive over the place where the
 town was. the spot so forlorn that we shivered at the memories of days that are dead. Blount Springs burned to the ground when the hotel burned last spring "a strange fatality attends the place. In 1869, during the fall a splendid colo nial style hotel was burned, and since then everything else has been temporary.
 Each year this big new hotel has been a matter of gossip-something for the sick folks to look forward to, and in fact so much time has been spent In thinking of where the best location ?'' That folks have forgotten they were there to get well, instead of to insist on a better hotel. Going back home There is a longing for it in every breast There is a sentiment that will live always for that old spot where you have gotten the bruises and pleasures of childhood. But after years, even though you have taken a new route to it, after you are there and remember those sweet old days, when you were hurrying to be man or won1- an, to get out into the world and do something like the grown folks are doing; then you recall with tear dimmed eyes how the very best days of your life have spirited away.
 The old home was mile beyond the house of friends, more than mile-nat- urally our thoughts travelled that mile