The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1922-07-21

n lie" mines from mGlDDuTue We cdflS /
to where big convict gang was lay !
ing the grade, and had to leave the |
road and take to the prairie. This |
wouldn't have been bad if it hadn't !
been for the boys and streams, such
as an auto can't negotiate unless it is
equipped with snowshoes and pom
toons. Getting back on the road, we
struggled thru some miles of sand.
Met a young couple with motor
cycle and a sidecar, possibly on a
honeymoon. We're having lots of diff
Girl badly sunburned, but sun hadn't
burned the smile off her face. Our
auto mechanic helped fix their ma
chine, and we went our ways with
mutual good wishes. A little further
we met an old couple who had a bad
case of car trouble. Wanted to help
them but had no tools in our kit to
cope with their difficulty. They could
obtain help further on by walking for
it, so we reluctantly left them. Pretty
prairie country, but until the road is
finished will look better from the deck
of an airplane. Crossed the creek
that flows out of Lake Helen Blazes,
which is the source Of the St. Johns
river. Plowed on thru the sand, mos@
of the time on low, the water in the
radiator boiling. Ran into rain
storm. Found better road. Found
good road. Came to Deer Park,
probably so called because it isn't a
dear and isn't park, but has fairly
good sawmill Found good water,
stopped ten minutes, fed our faces,
gave the fiivver a good drink and
drove ahead Had an intermittent
time. Would run a mile or two on
good brick road, then fall off of it into
a mile or so of sand and water paste,
from which we occasionally escaped
by taking to the woods. Finally came
to unbroken stretch of good brick
highway, not so wide, but had it all to
ourselves. Flivver kicked up it's
heels, and it's pilot eased his Shout
ders, wearied with miles of constant
wrenching. All smooth sailing then
to st. Cloud, pretty little town by
pretty big lake, Went on to Kissinl-
NEE, name of which irresistibly re-
minds every young man what to do to
"a pretty girl. Lots of pretty girls
there, too. Couple of them taught
in Ocala school last year.
Kissimmee is the home town of the
Right Honorable Walter L. Thorn
dyke, better known to the Florida
press as "Thorn." For years I had
wanted to see Thorn, and tho time
was short l hunted up his Office, in
which | found him, and on gazing
upon his form and features I was not
disappointed.
Some people of shallow minds say
Thorn is ugly, but to discerning per-
sons like myself his handsome intel
lect has left it's imprint on his feat
ures. His face is distinguished. I
don't believe there is another like it.
He has a Norman name, and if he
didn't insist on irrigating his face
with smile ever and anon it would
always look like that of some stern
old Norman baron, who from his bat
Elements looked deiantly out on a
hostile world. Thorn was busy. He
was pecking out some of his mimi
table stuff on typewriter and at the
same time talking to a Methodist
preacher and the proprietor of the
paper, the Valley Gazette. He invit-
ed me to take a comfortable seat on
the edge of table, and fired half
dozen questions at me. From the
piece he wrote about me later, I see
he forgot half the answers. I was
weary and needed stimulant, but when
asked him if he had any hootch he
said his bootlegger was three days
behind on his schedule. I had no fur
Their interest in him and bowed my
self out.
Thorn's a character. He writes a
lot of funny stuff, and he also writes a
good deal of solid sense, expressed in
the most correct English. He is bril-
liant, he has courage, and he is a dis
tinct asset to Kissimmee.
The day was bending over and
Ocala yet afar off. We went up the
pike toward Orlando about three
times as fast as Sherman rode to
Winchester. We found Orlando in a
binding rainstorm, but we also found
snug cafeteria, where we absorbed
the best meal since we sat down last
at Mrs. Beck's daintily arranged
table at Fort Lauderdale. When we
came out the rain was over and
smiling sun was tobogganing toward
his nights repose over in the golden
west. 1t was nearly a hundred miles
to Ocala, but the first sixty was good. |
We made the best of the brick high |
way to the border of Orange, and be- |
gan to climb the red-clay roads of |
Lake. We were following their turns |
and twists as the dark came down, |
but made no halt till we stopped to
talk few minutes with a jolly party
which was preparing a fishfry at the |
bridge two miles this side of Tavares. |
Soon after, we wheeled up the long
white way of Leesburg, and stopped
for coffee for ourselves and gas for