"And through the close-drawn, curtained night I steal on sleep's slow wings Back to my heart's ease—slopes of pine— Where end my wanderings.
Oh, heaven seems nearer from their tops— And farther earthly ills— Even in dreams, if I may but Dream of my Georgia hills.
The grass upon their orchard sides Is a fine couch to me; The common note of each small bird Passes all minstrelsy.
It would not seem so dread a thing If, when the Reaper wills, He might come there and take my hand Up in the Georgia hills."
"That's great stuff, ma'am," said J. Pinkney Bloom, enthusiastically, when the poetess had concluded.
"I wish I had looked up poetry more than I have.
I was raised in the pine hills myself."
"The mountains ever call to their children," murmured Mrs. Blaylock.
"I feel that life will take on the rosy hue of hope again in among these beautiful hills.
Peyton—a little taste of the currant wine, if you will be so good.
The journey, though delightful in the extreme, slightly fatigues me."
Colonel Blaylock again visited the depths of his prolific coat, and produced a tightly corked, rough, black bottle.
Mr. Bloom was on his feet in an instant.
"Let me bring a glass, ma'am.
You come along, Colonel—there's a little table we can bring, too.
Maybe we can scare up some fruit or a cup of tea on board.
I'll ask Mac."
Mrs. Blaylock reclined at ease.
Few royal ladies have held their royal prerogative with the serene grace of the petted Southern woman.
The Colonel, with an air as gallant and assiduous as in the days of his courtship, and J. Pinkney Bloom, with a ponderous agility half professional and half directed by some resurrected, unnamed, long-forgotten sentiment, formed a diversified but attentive court.
The currant wine—wine home made from the Holly Springs fruit—went round, and then J. Pinkney began to hear something of Holly Springs life.
It seemed (from the conversation of the Blaylocks) that the Springs was decadent.
A third of the population had moved away.
Business—and the Colonel was an authority on business—had dwindled to nothing.
After carefully studying the field of opportunities open to capital he had sold his little property there for eight hundred dollars and invested it in one of the enterprises opened up by the book in Okochee.
"Might I inquire, sir," said Mr. Bloom, "in what particular line of business you inserted your coin?
I know that town as well as I know the regulations for illegal use of the mails.
I might give you a hunch as to whether you can make the game go or not."
J. Pinkney, somehow, had a kindly feeling toward these unsophisticated representatives of by-gone days.
They were so simple, impractical, and unsuspecting.
He was glad that he happened not to have a gold brick or a block of that western Bad Boy Silver Mine stock along with him.
He would have disliked to unload on people he liked so well as he did these; but there are some temptations toe enticing to be resisted.
"No, sir," said Colonel Blaylock, pausing to arrange the queen's wrap.
"I did not invest in Okochee.
I have made an exhaustive study of business conditions, and I regard old settled towns as unfavorable fields in which to place capital that is limited in amount.
Some months ago, through the kindness of a friend, there came into my hands a map and description of this new town of Skyland that has been built upon the lake.
The description was so pleasing, the future of the town set forth in such convincing arguments, and its increasing prosperity portrayed in such an attractive style that I decided to take advantage of the opportunity it offered.
I carefully selected a lot in the centre of the business district, although its price was the highest in the schedule—five hundred dollars—and made the purchase at once."
"Are you the man—I mean, did you pay five hundred dollars for a lot in Skyland" asked J. Pinkney Bloom.
"I did, sir," answered the Colonel, with the air of a modest millionaire explaining his success; "a lot most excellently situated on the same square with the opera house, and only two squares from the board of trade.
I consider the purchase a most fortuitous one.
It is my intention to erect a small building upon it at once, and open a modest book and stationery store.
During past years I have met with many pecuniary reverses, and I now find it necessary to engage in some commercial occupation that will furnish me with a livelihood.
The book and stationery business, though an humble one, seems to me not inapt nor altogether uncongenial.
I am a graduate of the University of Virginia; and Mrs. Blaylock's really wonderful acquaintance with belles-lettres and poetic literature should go far toward insuring success.
Of course, Mrs. Blaylock would not personally serve behind the counter.
With the nearly three hundred dollars I have remaining I can manage the building of a house, by giving a lien on the lot.
I have an old friend in Atlanta who is a partner in a large book store, and he has agreed to furnish me with a stock of goods on credit, on extremely easy terms.
I am pleased to hope, sir, that Mrs. Blaylock's health and happiness will be increased by the change of locality.
Already I fancy I can perceive the return of those roses that were once the hope and despair of Georgia cavaliers."