The Mt. Sterling advocate., 1922-09-05


ever heard of Florida was when I
was a wee, wee bit of a boy when
my mother went to Cincinnati, Ohio,
and brought home an orange, telling
us that 1t grew in Florida, and was
something OF sight to see. think
it cost 25 cents. About that time l
heard my father talking about Mr..
Ben Robertson, of M. Sterling, driv-
ing horses to Florida and selling
them to the United States govern
ment for the cavalry to fight the
Seminole Indians on, and, by the way,
Mr.. Robertson was killed by horse
later in Mt. Sterling. My father told
of seeing Mr. Robertson bringing fox
hounds from Baltimore, as he was a
lover of the fox and deer chase.
But 1 am leaving the rail concern
ing my trip to Florida. On the 7th
day of last February we set out from
home without telling anybody where
we were going, meaning by I'VE" my
self and Mr. Rogers Grass, of st.
Albans, w. Va, that morning being
the coolest and bleakest one OF the
winter so far at home. l don't know
what the weather has been at home
since, as | haven't heard from home
since that morning, this being March
8, 1922, a fine, pleasant, balmy day
at Melbourne, Fla.
Now a little about our trip over
the roads, or, at least, sometimes
over them and sometimes under
them. We left old Bunker Hill at IL
o'clock by the way of Paris, Lexing-
I ton and Danville, and the day turned
out to be very nice one in looks,
but very sharp and frosty. Then
down long hill, ferried across the
Kentucky river with a pull ferry boat,
helping to pull the boat across the
river; then up a long steep and
rough hill; then on to Bardstown all
right. There was where we encoun-
tered our first highway holdup. That
was the next morning in a dirty, |
greasy restaurant. We stopped at |
hotel for supper and the night, but, |
wanting to start on our journey
earlier than the hotel cared to get |
up and start us out, we went into
restaurant to get a supply of break
fast to make the run on for the day. |
While waiting for what we had or I
dered we were in conversation with |
man whom | supposed to be the
proprietor. He was complaining |
about everybody being slow and not
able to get anything done, and about
times being hard and dull. | noticed |
picture of a man hanging ON the
good. He said nobody except those
having a trade was doing any good |
At the time of ascertaining the sum
of my bill | asked him if he had a
trade and he wanted to know why
1 told him that l supposed he had
trade as he seemed to be doing well,
considering the way he charged so
much for so little. Then he made
some grunts like hog, and he look
ed like one.
Then out and away in the Velie,
six around first this way, then on
the other way, and then on to Hod-
gensville | believe it was by the
Lincoln farm that | saw some old
fashioned fences of the stake-and-
rider style, but the stakes were all
out and the riders all gone. That was
the style of fence that Honest Abe
made. Meeting an. honest looking
negro, asked him if he could tell
me where the fence was that had the
rails that Lincoln had made. He said
he didn't "zactly know, boss, but l
think it's right around the turn on
the udder hill" We went a distance
heading for Horse Cave and asked
him if he could point out the road.
Yes, he was very obliging. l asked
him what terms the road was on to
travel He said it was very good, as
he had driven over 1t the night be-
fore in a car. Well, he must have
shut his eyes to make his escape
and come out alive. Then on we
went and came to a sign that read,
"Take the cobblestone road II wet
and take the dirt road If dry" We
took the dirt road as 1t was not very
wet. but, we'll. well, we saw a man
and he asked us why we didn't take
the cobblestone road, as that was the
best. But the velie plowed on and
on. and we met two boys and ask
ed them about the roads to Bowling
Green. They seemed to know what
..,hat ahn..k tho roado and fold m