The Washington herald., 1920-09-26

things have been whizzing
around Okochee. Biggest indus
trial revival and waking up to
natural resources Georgia ever
had. Did you happen to squeeze
in on the ground floor in any of
the gilt-edged gratis, Colonel"
We'll. sir" said the Colonel.
hesitating in courteous doubt, "if
l understand your question. I may
say that l took the opportunity
to make an investment that l be-
lieve will prove quite advante-
geous-yes, sir, l believe 1t VIII
result in both pecuniary profit
and agreeable occupation,
"Col. Blaylock," said the little
elderly lady, shaking her gray
curl and smiling indulgent ex-
PLANTATION at j. Pinkney Bloom.
lis so devoted to business. He
has such a talent for financiering
and markets and investments and
those kind of things. l myself
am extremely fortunate in having
him for a partner on lifeis jour
ney-I am so unversed in those
formidable but very useful
. branches of learning"
Col. BIaylock rose and made
bow-a bow that belonged with
silk stockings and lace ruffles
and velvet.
Practical affairs" he said, with
a wave of his hand toward the
promoter. ARE, if | may use the
comparison. the garden walks up
on which we tread through life.
viewing upon either side of us
the flowers which brighten that
journey. 1t is my pleasure to be
able to lay out a walk or two.
Mrs. BIayIock, sir. is one of those
fortunate higher spirits whose
mission it is 70 make the flowers
grow. Perhaps. Mr.. Bloom. you
have perused the lines of Lorella.
the Southern pOetess. That is the
name above which Mrs. Blaylock
has contributed to the press of
the South for many years"
Unfortunately" said Mr.. Bloom.
with a sense of the loss clearly
written upon his frank face. I'm
like the colonel-in the walk
making business myself-and |
haven't had time even to take a
sniff at the flowers. Poetry is
line l never dealt in. 1t must be
nice, though-quite nice
1T is the region" smiled Mrs.
Blaylock, "in which my soul
dwells. My shawl. Peyton, if you
pIease-the breeze comes little
chilly from yon verdured hills"
The Colonel drew from the tail
pocket of his coat a small shawl
of knitted silk and laid it so
licitously about the shoulders of
the lady. Mrs. BIaylock sighed
pressive eyes-still as clear and
unworldly as a Childs-upon the
steep slopes that very slowly
slipped past. Very fair and state
ly they looked in the clear morn
ing air. They seemed to speak in
familiar terms to the responsive
spirit of Lorella. My native
hills" she murmured dreamily.
See how the foliage drinks the
sunlight from the hollows and
dells."
Mrs. Blaylock's maiden days"
said the Colonel, Interpreting her
mood to ]. Pinkney Bloom. were
spent among the mountains of
northern Georgia. Mountain air
and mountain scenery recall to
her those days. Holly Springs,
years, is low and fiat. l fear that
she may have suffered in health
and spirits by so long a residence
there. That is one potent reason
for the change we are making.
Ny dear, can you not recall those
lines you wrote-entitled, l think,
The Georgia Eills'-the poem that
was so extensively copied by
the Southern press and praised so
highly by the Atlanta critics."
Mrs. Blaylock turned a glance
of speaking tenderness upon the
Colonel, fingered for a moment
the silvery curl that drooped upon
her bosom, then looked toward
the mountains. Without pre-
liminary or affectation or de-
mural she began, in rather
thrilling and more deeply pitched
tones to recite these lines:
The Georgia hills. the Georgia
hills!
y Oh. heart. why dost thou pine?
Are not these sheltered lowlands
With mead and bloom and vine?
All. as the slow-paced river here
Broods on it's natal rills
My spirit drifts, in longing sweet,
Back to the Georgia hills.
And through the e-drawn,
curtained night
steal on sleeps slow wings
Back to my hearts ease-slopes of
pine
Where end my wanderings.