The whole family of the ex-President have departed
this world, but his memory is still green in this region, where he
was almost worshiped - so the people say in speaking of him.
Forlorn as was the hotel at Union, the landlord's daughters were
beginning to draw the lines in rural refinement. One of them had
been at school in Abingdon. Another, a mature young lady of fifteen,
who waited on the table, in the leisure after supper asked the Friend
for a light for her cigarette, which she had deftly rolled.
"Why do you smoke?"
"So as I shan't get into the habit of dipping. Do you think dipping
is nice?"
The traveler was compelled to say that he did not, though he had seen
a good deal of it wherever he had been.
"All the girls dips round here. But me and my sisters rather smoke
than get in a habit of dipping."
To the observation that Union seemed to be a dull place:
"Well, there's gay times here in the winter - dancing. Like to dance?
Well, I should say! Last winter I went over to Blountsville to a
dance in the court-house; there was a trial between Union and
Blountsville for the best dancing. You bet I brought back the cake
and the blue ribbon."
The country was becoming too sophisticated, and the travelers
hastened to the end of their journey. The next morning Bristol, at
first over a hilly country with magnificent oak-trees, - happily not
girdled, as these stately monarchs were often seen along the roads in
North Carolina, - and then up Beaver Creek, a turbid stream, turning
some mills. When a closed woolen factory was pointed out to the
Professor (who was still traveling for Reform), as the result of the
agitation in Congress, he said, Yes, the effect of agitation was
evident in all the decayed dams and ancient abandoned mills we had
seen in the past month.
Bristol is mainly one long street, with some good stores, but
generally shabby, and on this hot morning sleepy. One side of the
street is in Tennessee, the other in Virginia. How handy for
fighting this would have been in the war, if Tennessee had gone out
and Virginia stayed in. At the hotel - may a kind Providence wake it
up to its responsibilities - we had the pleasure of reading one of
those facetious handbills which the great railway companies of the
West scatter about, the serious humor of which is so pleasing to our
English friends. This one was issued by the accredited agents of the
Ohio and Mississippi Railway, and dated April 1, 1984. One sentence
will suffice:
"Allow us to thank our old traveling friends for the many favors in
our line, and if you are going on your bridal trip, or to see your
girl out West, drop in at the general office of the Ohio and
Mississippi Railway and we will fix you up in Queen Anne style.
Passengers for Dakota, Montana, or the Northwest will have an
overcoat and sealskin cap thrown in with all tickets sold on or after
the above date."
The great republic cannot yet take itself seriously. Let us hope the
humors of it will last another generation. Meditating on this, we
hailed at sundown the spires of Abingdon, and regretted the end of a
journey that seems to have been undertaken for no purpose.
End of On Horseback, by Charles Dudley Warner
