Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1916-06-02
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~ 81 7lnefy Topics
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ANCIENT MEMORIES.

| Some months ago, a very clever gen.
tleman and a good friend Gin his early
seventies), asked the privilege of con-
veying my old sister and my older self
| to the place where we were born and
which neither of us had visited or seen
! in fifty-four years. He also proposed
| to take us to our girlhood home that
was our beautiful girlhood residence
where we were married from and for
| which we had tender memories, etc.
The time was finally selected and
proved to be a most balmy day of last
week with a blue sky overhead and
tender green on every side, and we two
old ladies had the time of our lives"
Over half a century had gone since
we had seen either the birthplace or
the girlhood home as before stated. At
the old birthplace nothing ermained ex-
cept the land and the wells. The Yam
KEGS had burned the old home and new
buildings had gone up and they were
now dull with age also, when we rolled
| up to the gate the other day.
But memory brought back the home
| Of my parents, where my eyes first saw
| the light and I could point out the spot
| where the storehouse stood, where the
fine schoolhouse for those early days.
was erected where the small courthouse
that was the voting place and where the
| IllllIid nluSleTS were performed. Inc
| crossroads were those leading from Nc
Donough to Rockbridge and Lawrence
willie and from Decatur and Covington
| and it was the most public place for
twenty miles in every direction eighty
| years ago.
The old buildings. ] greatly missed,
and the rose bushes and the magnificent
| oaks, etc, but war did it's fearful stunt
and nothing but the old we'll remained
to remind us last week of our first
| home.
The splendid gentlemen Cbrotners)
who were our hosts were then ready to
carry us to the girlhood home and the
plantation on South river, where the
river bottoms were fertile and once in
fine ORDER when we were in our teens.
The river was such a delight to us in
those early days, and l remembered the
little boat that we enjoyed, and those
were our singing days when we sang
for pure joy.
AS we sped alons somebody mention
ed the Iirst church (then called meet
| ing house, that we were ever in, where
everybody went once a month on Sat
urday and Sunday to meetings. And
memory was faithful. I remembered
the beautiful spring and our nurse, dear
! old black NANNY, and l did not for
| get the quaint little pitcher in bronze
and gold that she carried to the spring
and brought back with cool crystal
water for her little charge, and I took
pleasure in thinking that the pitcher
was still in my possession, maybe hum
| dred years old.
"Oh. yes" said the gentlemen, I'VE
are going to take you to old Macedonia
church all right. That's what we plan
ned to do"
And it was in good order, all right,
and l could have gone straight TO the
! spring ii l had been less fatigued. And
my mind went back to my first singing
| school, where we had round and square
and three-cornered notes in the singing
book, and I could have sung one of the
OLD tunes right then If memories had
not been crowding me too much. The
singing school in that old church. l re-
called one of the delights of that happy
| singing school. I was but seven years
old. but I could ride my pony like an
| expert And when the older boys and
girls took a racing spell on the return
trip on those lovely roads (still kept
i'm forest srowth) pony and ! were not
left in the rear. The little nag would
| lay back his ears. l would drop the
bride reins and clutch the horns of the
side saddle, and we did our part in fine
get-there order. How good those older
boys and girls were to the little girl!
1 And the most of them are now in that
old churchyard, in the silent dust, and
] am near my eighty-arst birthday.
| And the girlhood home!
| Once a stately, twelve-room structure
with long double colonnade in front, lofty
ceilings, fifteen-foot halls, wide stair
case. immense rooms. we found every
thing in decay. The frame is perfect.
but neglect had done its fatal work.
| found the tears creeping down my old
| cheeks as the past with its memories
| rushed over my mind When we were
jewellers there everything was fresh,
! spick and span. Times we're plentiful,
| no thought for the morrow, hospitality,
/ bountiful, no lack Of cheer, nor visitors,
and we were young, healthy and happy
as birds!
! Two aged widows in mourning garb,
| stood together i'm the old room which
had been the parlor in the early days
| and we could spot the place where we
| had each stood in wedding attire and
with friends and kindred all around us
| (events several years aparO, and we
| were all that now was left and the old
| home was bleak and barren in loneli-
ness and decay! And we were never
| to see it more?
! Where are the friends of my youth,
| w mere are lnOSe DlSSSeu ones SOlle'
And the fine old mill, once the ia
nous mill Of those parts, is dismantled
but the stout old timbers and strong
| granite walls underneath will brave
many storms in the future l expect
The saw mill was gone the wool fac
| tory gone, the storehouse, masonic hall,
wood shop and blacksmith's shop, the
miller's house, all gone, but the three
story mill house, in which thousands of
bushels of corn and wheat had been
ground and sold in meal and flour, had
stood the blasts of sixty-five years and
| reared it's proud old head in sad re-
proach on the march of relentless time
! The new idea prevails Across the
river is the power plant, that sends
electricity to Conyers and Lithonia, a
thing undreamed of in my badly
days. The old and the new look
at each other with the river between and
We hear the echos, What hath God
wrought Thine waits for no man.
Our gallant hosts took us over the
seven-mile road Chat we travelled in the
! early days to the nearest depot. 1t was
the most realizing part of the trip, ex-
! cept the old church. Frequent stops
| were made, the people were called out
| to see US as we sat in the auto, and
they were so lovely in their kind
/ A. ~ i