xt7k9882k48b https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7k9882k48b/data/mets.xml Miles, Emma Bell, 1879-1919. 1905  books b92f210m6419052009 English J. Pott  : New York Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Appalachians (People) --Social life and customs. Appalachian Region, Southern --Social life and customs. The spirit of the mountains. text The spirit of the mountains. 1905 2009 true xt7k9882k48b section xt7k9882k48b 
  
  
  
  
THE

SPIRIT OF

THE

MOUNTAINS

  
  
  
  
T h e S p i r i t o f the Mountains
By

E m m a B. Miles

N E W Y ORK JAMES POTT & COMPANY 1 905

  
Copyright,

1 905,

by

JAMES P O T T

&

Co.

F i r s t I m p r e s s i o n , O c t o b e r , 1 905,

  
THE

AUTHOR &

w i s h e s to t h a n k for

MESSRS. to

HARPER

BROTHERS

permission

reprint the AMERICAN HARPER'S

chapter entitled, S O M E MUSIC, which

REAL in

appeared

MAGAZINE,

fur J u n e , 1 9 0 4 .

  
  
CONTENTS CHAPTER I.   THE LOG C H U R C H S CHOOL
PAGB

Describing a typical school in the mountains, and a few of the children attending....
CHAPTER II.   CABIN HOMES

i

Showing the daily life, the primitive habits and customs of the mountaineers
CHAPTER III.   GRANDMOTHERS

17

A N D SONS

Sketch of an old couple and of a young one. A study of relations between man and woman, showing incidentally the peculiar respect accorded to old women..
C H A P T E R IV.   NEIGHBORS

36

A

study of relations between man and man. Simplicity of social laws; absence of class distinction. Feuds due to the clan spirit
[vii]

71

  
CONTENTS C H A P T E R V .     T H E S AVAGE STRAIN
PAGE

Their peculiarities partly accounted for by the long association with the Cherokee. Story of a lost mine, illustrating some singular characteristics 83
CHAPTER VI.   SUPERNATURAL

Ghost tales, witch tales, signs and omens    and the moon! 9  
CHAPTER VII.   THE OLD-TIME RELIGION

Character sketch of a mountain preacher and his zvork. Description of foot-washing, baptising and kindred ceremonies. Then the deeper side   the principles underlying the mountaineer's beliefs and habits of thought 1 19
CHAPTER VIII.   SOME M USIC REAL AMERICAN

Folk-song; religious music: the fiddle, the banjo, and the dance. Influence of old ballads on native composition 146
[viii]

  
CONTENTS

C H A P T E R I X .     T H E L ITERATURE OF A W O L F RACE
PAGE

The vernacular a true dialect. Native rhymes, tales, hymns, and proverbs. The mountaineer's Mother Goose. Tendencies and possible development of this literature 17
CHAPTER X.   CONCLUSION

2

Influence of contact with civilization on the mountaineers. What might to be done about it:   some practical suggestions for the development of this people:    how to help them in the right way.... 1 90

[ix]

  
  
CHAPTER

I

T H E L OG C H U R C H S CHOOL N K i n g ' s Creek there is a l o g house of one V _>/ l arge pen that is schoolhouse, church a n d From i ts t own h a l l , a l l in one, and thus easily the most i mportant b u i l d i n g in the district. d oor o ne looks across the slope of the Robbins f a r m t o the " b r e a k s " of K i n g ' s C r e e k gulch. A s i m i l a r s lope on the opposite side displays the f arms of the two M a i s e y brothers l y i n g side by s ide, b oth together a mere kerchief-like patch i n t he miles on r o l l i n g m iles o f woods. There a re l o g barns and houses on both of these, a n d s ometimes a smoke of cooking curls up i n a blue s croll a mong the pines, where otherwise w o u l d n ever suspect a house. o nly v isible signs of h u m a n habitation. one One These are the

  
   

i

   

THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E

MOUNTAINS

w ould say that no k i n d o f public gathering could be got together in the l o g church. B ut, l istening for a day, even f o r an hour, to t he sounds that echo i n this cup of the h ills, o ne comes t o know that life is e ver p resent. The evidences are faint and far, but the ear makes s ure of t h e m     y o d e l i n g and calling, b a r k i n g of d ogs, crowing of cocks in the early m o r n i n g . L isten !     a horn is wound a way off t o w a r d the g ap. d ay. A n axe rings on the crystal of a winter Some boy must n eeds a dvertise his riches

o f both ammunition and corn whiskey at once b y several shots fired in quick succession at nothing at a l l . H o o f s clatter over the shale at the f ord, f ar below, and sometimes the music of a h unt or a dancing party continues nearly t h r o u g h t he night. Y e t the most attentive hearkening w o u l d but p oorly s erve t o prepare o ne's e xpectations a ttend preaching. for t he crowd that g athers h ere once a m o n t h to A n d when a " b i g m e e t i n g , " and the p rotracted indefinitely, is i n progress, [2]

o x and mule t eams s tand hitched in the woods

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

a l l a bout, while the smaller children sleep i n the w agons, and neighbors enjoy a basket dinner together near the b i g c ave s p r i n g , the number p resent is a m a z i n g . T h e school, however, "fares but m i d d l i n g " i n t he matter of attendance. e xpectation of somebody's Confinement f o r "takin' a big a n h o u r or two, w i t h s ongs a n d the imminent t h r o u g h " o f religious excitement to break the m onotony, is not insupportable, but the necessity o f keeping s till i n time of books and o f app l y i n g a l l one's m i n d t o lessons that m a y or m a y n ot be about what one really wants to k n o w , is a g rievous yoke, indeed. T h e p a t h to the school S o it is that, d oor is one that few care to tread, w i t h t he b oundless forest to choose f r o m . w hile I a m f a i r l y s ure of meeting, m o r n i n g after m o r n i n g , a f a i t h f u l ten or fifteen, most of the c hildren h ereabout run free as the fawns a n d c ubs that they often capture f o r p l a y m a t e s     a s t i m i d , as lithe and about as intellectual. O u r l o g church stands in the forest. [3] There i s s carce enough s pace c leared a r o u n d it f o r a

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E M O U N T A I N S d r u m on its r o o f

p layground. n ight. w ithin.

W oodpeckers

i n t he daytime and whippoorwills sing there at A c o r n s drop upon it i n October w i t h I ts walls are l a i d o f heavy pine timbers r esounding t aps that startle a l l the l ittle o nes s quared roughly and w e l l notched together, the c racks chinked w i t h chips driven in slantwise a n d d aubed w i t h native clay. t he other. T h e r e is no belfry. T h e door is at one end and the h i g h p u l p i t at A t one side is a stone chimney, masIt sive as a tower, whose fireplace on c o l d days seems a bout to swallow the h u d d l e d school. gether to b r i n g in a backlog. r equires the strength of a l l the l a r g e r boys toW h e n I was a c hild I r emember a number of us, on the heels o f s ome prank, once h i d in its sooty depths f r o m the w r a t h of the teacher, much as the Indians t ook shelter in N i c k o j a c k f r o m the p u r s u i n g f orces of Sevier. H o w could we have kept s chool w ithout the a i d of that hospitable cavern ? W e roasted nuts in it, and potatoes and apples, a nd p igs' tails, brought f r o m home. [4] W e even b oiled eggs t here in a tin bucket when M i s ' R o b -

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E

MOUNTAINS

b ins' o l d blue hen o b l i g i n g l y stole her nest under t he floor. W e watched the sparks fly up the c himney w hen we should have been s t u d y i n g ; w e t o l d f ortunes, m a k i n g and n a m i n g m a r k s i n t he ashes. c oals! S t i l l i t stands, the m i g h t y chimney, and n o w i t i s I w h o must sometimes chase the l ittle f ellows, l a u g h i n g a n d squealing, into its d a r k recess a nd out again. W i t h so few pupils l ittle d iscipline i s necessary, and we often spend the h ot afternoons of September outside, w i t h our b o o k s     o l d M c G u f f e y readers, blue-back spellers, Testaments or whatever comes to h a n d , scattered about on the g r o u n d . I f the y o u n g m i n d s flitting w ander afield w i t h the scampering and matter? Webster. A s f or that, our study is never confined to the t ext-book l o n g . T h e first hour of our day is [5] A n d oh, the visions we saw in i ts s moke, the futures we painted in its r u d d y

o f l ittle b rothers of tree-top and b u r r o w , w h a t Perhaps they learn at such times somet h i n g n ot to be f o u n d between the covers o f

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

d evoted to reading in four classes o f different g rades, the second to arithmetic in three. Then a w e spend about thirty minutes in d r a w i n g maps a nd t alking about the country represented, p ri.-nitive m ethod of studying geography, the best p ossible in default of more b ooks. but

expensive

N e x t we write, either a spelling lesson D i n n e r , eaten l ittle f olks and

o r a c omposition on some outdoor subject, u ntil i t is time for the noon " ree-cess." a nd t hen playtime the scatters the i n the shade outside, is over in a few minutes, t hrough woods, m a k i n g playhouses

b ending down saplings for "ridey-hosses," u n t i l i t is time to recall them by r a p p i n g on the door w ith a s tick, as i f the hollow house were a giant d rum. T h e afternoon is very much l ike t he m orning, except that there is a class in such g rammar as we can manage without text-books. L a s t o f all, I give them something to take home w ith t hem, to think over and dream a b o u t     a n object-lesson, a stoiy, a poem, or a simple talk on some bit of natural science. T h i s is our regular programme, but it has [6]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E

MOUNTAINS Sometimes, i n -

m any and frequent variations.

stead of c a l l i n g the p r i m a r y arithmetic class, I set the little ones t o p l a y i n g " H u l l - g u l l , h andf u l l , h ow m a n y ? " T h a t t eaches t hem as m u c h O r perhaps a l l the a ddition a nd subtraction as they w o u l d be l i k e l y t o get by figuring on a slate. s lates a re brought out at once f o r such a drawi n g l esson as m a y assist the girls i n designing t heir o w n blocks of patchwork. freshed by l e a r n i n g a song. O r the whole res chool b ecomes d rowsy, and can b est b e

O l d hymns, " O f o r

a F a i t h T h a t W i l l N o t S h r i n k , " " W h e n I Survey the W o n d r o u s C r o s s , " are quite as new i n t his p art of the w o r l d as " R e c e s s i o n a l " or " T h e P a l m s , " a nd f a r more acceptable to the home f olks, w h o soon learn them f r o m the c h i l d r e n . There t hat tle are are some a kindergarten enjoyed; favorite. "I But songs, Have they a too, Litwake "The Thro' For greatly

S h a d o w " is

t o their brightest under the influence of S tar-Spangled Banner," "Marching G e o r g i a " or " T h e R e d , W h i t e and B l u e . "

t here is not one in the school but has spent many [7]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

a l ong winter evening in listening to the fathers' a nd g randfathers' tales of the war, and even the y oungest here understands enough about t axes a nd p ensions and voting well enough to feel that t heir g reat " gover'ment" is to be revered above a ll h uman things. I A n d the older girls b r i n g that Or t heir k nitting a nd sewing to school, so w ith a n ew stitch or a fresh q uilt p attern.

a m able now and again to delight them

the excitement of "cross-spelling" is asked for, a n exercise in which a l l but the b abes t ake p art. C liff R ogers has been our crack S ome s peller, b ut J i m m y F etridge, the widow's boy, is m aking a better record every w eek. F r i d a y a fternoon he w i l l t urn C liff d own, a n d t hen w e can soon challenge the school yon side t he creek to spell against us. W h e n i n N o v e m b e r the low clouds r o l l a cross the mountain, darkening u ntil n ot even the most e xperienced housewife can t ell w hen it is time to set up dinner for her men-folks, we put the b ooks away entirely and hear over and over a gain the tales we love best. [8] Sometimes the

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

c hildren, t oo, t ell s tories f r o m the B i b l e o r real l ocal o ccurrences in the time of the Indians, or o f t he w a r , or curious adaptations of Cherokee t radition. A n d o n the F r i d a y b efore the t h i r d S unday i n e ach m o n t h we s weep t he floor and the y a r d , f ill t he fireplace w i t h b oughs of autumn leaves, b ranches of blossoming d o g w o o d or azalea, f ronds o f cinnamon fern, or whatever is most b eautiful i n the woods at the time, a n d make the p lace tidy f o r Sunday's preaching. T h e n we Our " speak pieces" the rest of the afternoon.

c hoice of t hese is l i m i t e d t o the contents of W ebster's Speller a n d the M c G u f f e y Readers, s upplemented b y the l ittle c opy of the " C h i l d ' s G a r d e n o f V e r s e s " it is m y good fortune to o w n , s o that we are sure of he ari n g the same g o o d t hings p retty regularly every F r i d a y . S ome l a d i s c ertain to declare that in w i n t e r he g ets u p a t night as earnestly as i f he didn't eat two meals a d ay by l a m p l i g h t almost the year r ound. Another c hooses " C o m e , come, come, the summer n ow is h e r e "     o n l y he generally pronounces it [9]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E M O U N T A I N S

" summerny," and some one else starts out in a v igorous sing-song: " T h e l a r k is up to meet the sun, T h e bee is on the w i n g . " However, there are occasional surprises,

m ostly traceable to the mountaineer's M o t h e r G oose. " I ' m got a speak, too," urged little O see R ogers once, and f o r t h w i t h delivered h i m s e l f : " H e y , l ittle boy, where'd you git your breeches? D a d d y cut 'em out and m a m m y sewed s titches." H e w as mortally offended by the shout that w ent up when he had finished. T h e children are of a l l sizes, r a n g i n g f r o m t he wee ones too little even to say their a-b-abs, a nd o nly sent to school because, unless they are k ept out of mother's way, sister w i l l h ave to stay at home to help, to the b i g boys w h o were e xpected by their mates to run every teacher out [10] the

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S I do

o f s c h o o l     w i t h open knives, i f necessary. t rouble w i t h t hese l ast.

n ot k n o w w h y I have never h a d any serious It is strange that the u nconquerable c hief of this group should preserve, o u t w a r d l y , the most correct behavior. H e i s s eventeen, a true mountaineer, and has, I believe, a f uture before h i m , but I should be relieved a t present to have h i m off m y m i n d . He m ade it clear at the outset, in a fashion that p erplexes me s till, t hat he w o u l d have n o t h i n g m ore i ntimate than a r m e d p eace b etween h i m a nd t he teacher. School h a d been g o i n g on f o r n early a w eek, w hen o l d m a n R o b b i n s k n o c k e d a t the door to ask that I keep the children f r o m r u n n i n g o ver his potato patch. s chool a bout it at once. m ajority. N o w , this was a r easonable request enough, and I spoke to the T h e mere mention of a w i s h o n the teacher's part was sufficient f o r the B u t this b o y     m e r e l y , I believe, to see what w o u l d come of it, although his f a m i l y m ay v ery possibly have some grudge against o l d m a n R o b b i n s     l e a p e d the fence next recess a nd w a l k e d d eliberately into the potato field a nd out [II]

  
THE a gain. s ullen.

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

A r eprimand brought no response what-

ever f r o m h i m , although he seemed not at a l l " C l i f f , " I a sked, " i f you w ere t he teacher, w hat would you do w ith s uch a b o y ? " " I ' d w hup h i m , " he answered, brightening. " B u t y ou are too o l d to w h i p . it a g a i n ? " H e f aced about and stood f u m b l i n g his hat a m oment; t hen he concocted a l ittle s peech w h i c h I a m sure furnished its maker w i t h s ome sarisfaction. H e enjoyed what he was pleased to c onsider the joke on himself and on me. " C a n ' t y ou say you are sorry you d i d i t ? " I p rompted. " W h y , " r eplied he, " I reckon I could, but I d 'know as I am !" W e b oth laughed. m ay g o to your s eat." H e has never repeated the offense, nor has he e ver c ommitted any overt act of rebellion. [12] But " W e l l , C l i f f , " s aid I, " i f y ou've sufficiently aired your independence, you Suppose, now, y ou a pologize, and t ell t he school you won't do

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E

MOUNTAINS

n ow a nd again he feels it necessary to give an u nexpected d i g of his independence into the ribs o f h is teacher, just by w a y o f assuring himself t hat he could be a free m a n i f he wanted to. s chool. A l l t he children in the district are related by b lood i n one degree or another. O u r r oll-call i ncludes S ally M a r y a nd C r i p p l e J o h n ' s M a r y a nd T a n ' s M a r y , a l l bearing the same surname; a nd t here is, besides, A u n t Rose Mary a nd M a r y - J o , l i v i n g y on side the creek. T h e r e are I a m c ertain that I have no better f r i e n d in the

t he different branches of the Rogers f a m i l y     C l a y a nd F r a n k , R e d J i m and L y i n ' J i m and S i n g i n ' J i m and B l a c k J i m R o g e r s     i n this district, t heir k i n i n t e r m a r r i e d u ntil n o m a n could w rite t he pedigree o r ascertain the exact relationship o f their offspring to each other. i n t he least. This q uestion, h owever, does not disturb the children T h e y never address one another as cousin; they are content to k n o w that U n c l e T a n ' s smokehouse is the resource of a l l in time o f f a m i n e ; that A u n t M a r t h a ' s k i n d a nd strong [13]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

h ands are always to be depended on when one is r eally i l l ; t hat U n c l e F i l m o r e plays the fiddle at all dances, and U n c l e D a v e shoes a l l the m ules owned by the tribe. ' Lectar F etridge's children come in the m orning f rom a cabin two miles away, w i t h their s cant dinner in a strong basket woven of whiteoak splints. I f the l ittle f eet g row t ired, t he tenyear-old m other-sister of the group cuts a stickhorse that prances gayly over the remaining distance w i t h no thought of fatigue. She has a l l t he pathetic h umility a nd patience of a saintly g randmother, this c hild, a nd endures cold and h unger as a matter of course. A l w a y s she turns to w ith h er soft, shining smile and asks me q uitting t he school doorstep. is a lways so glad of company! C o m i n g b ack from the spring to-day I espied a l ittle f igure waiting beside the path, its arms f olded, its f ace v ery stern, w i t h c hin u p and eyebrows d o w n     t h e personification of dignity at the mature age of seven. [14]

" come go home w i t h her," the last t h i n g before A n d poor ' L e c t a r

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E

MOUNTAINS

" W a i t i n g f o r mc, O s e e ? " I inquired. H e w as, but w o u l d not own i t I'd ' ist see i f there's g o i n ' to be "Thought any wild

g rapes," he s a i d ; and a few minutes after, stalki n g b eside m e : two." S o he waits again in the evening w i t h the s ame ostentation of nonchalance, preserving his d ignity u n t i l t he last p a i r of bare f eet h ave pattered down the p a t h . T h e n he is f a i n to w a l k b eside his teacher, p r a t t l i n g very m u c h l ike a ny o ther c h i l d o f the good things mother is g o i n g t o have f o r supper and of the pigs in his father's p en. " I ' m g ot free l ittle c hickens," he tells me, " a n d o ne urn's a p u l l e t     o r a hen, I do' k n o w which." B u t h e stiffens perceptibly inside of his l ittle h omespun roundabout and breeches as we approach t he l o g house in the o r c h a r d w h i c h is his h o m e ; and by the time his sister, that representative of the f r a n k l y emotional and i n f e r i o r sex, [15] " M o t h e r said t ell y e to come h ome w i t h us to-night and fix to stay a w eek o r

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E M O U N T A I N S

has run out to meet us w i t h her pet rooster in h er arms, he is all mountaineer again. " M i l l y , " he tells her, " I m other to hurry up supper. wisht y o u ' d t ell I ' m '1st g oin' down

t o the barn w i t h father and the boys." E v e n h is mother laughs as she comes to the d oor, her toil-wom, wistful f ace s eaming into fine w rinkles of amusement at his baby airs. " Does he ever want you to rock h i m to sleep ?" I w onder, watching the sturdy little l egs t ramp off to the barn. " O h , w hen he's sick or tired he's r i g h t g l a d to be my little boy for a w h i l e , " she answers. " B u t he's always a growed-up m a n ag'in he w akes u p in the m o r n i n g . "

[16]

  
CHAPTER

II

C A B I N H OMES " P o o r p eople has a poor w a y . "

S

O L I T U D E is d eep w ater, and s mall b oats d o not ride w e l l in it. O n l y a superficial

o bserver could f a i l t o understand that the mountain p eople really love their w i l d e r n e s s     l o v e it f or i ts beauty, f o r its freedom. T h e i r intimacy w i t h i t d ates f r o m a babyhood when the t h r i l l o f c lean wet sand was good to l ittle f eet; w hen " frog-houses" were b uilt, a nd l ittle t racks were p r i n t e d i n rows a l l over the shore of the creek; w hen t he beginnings o f aesthetic feeling f o u n d e xpression i n necklaces of scarlet haws and headdresses p i n n e d a n d b r a i d e d together of oak l eaves, c a r d i n a l flowers and f e r n ; when beargrass i n s p r i n g , "sarvices" and berries i n sum[17]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E M O U N T A I N S

m er a nd muscadines in autumn were first sought a fter and p r i z e d most for the " w i l d flavor," the p eculiar t ang of the woods which they contain. I once rode up the Side w i t h a grandmother f rom S awyers' Springs, who cried out, as the o verhanging curve of the bluff, crowned w i t h p ines, c ame into v i e w : " N o w , ain't that finer W e git more bygone days t han a ny picter you ever seed in your life ?     a n d t hey c all us pore mountaineers! o ut o' life than anybody." The charm and mystery of b roods over the mountain c o u n t r y     t h e c h a r m o f p ioneer hardihood, of primitive p eace, o f the f atalism o f ancient peoples, of the rites and l egends of the aborigines. T o one w h o underdreamers, stands these h igh solitudes it is no m a r v e l that t he inhabitants should be mystics, sweet. N o t h i n g less than the charm o f their stern m otherland c ould h o l d t hem here. t he flesh-pots. T h e y know w ell e nough that elsewhere they m i g h t sit by Occasionally a whole starved-out
[IS]

g iven to fancies often absurd, but often w i l d l y

  
THE

OVERHANGING

BLUFF,

CROWNED

WITH

PINES

  
  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E

MOUNTAINS

f a m i l y w i l l e migrate westward, and, h a v i n g settled, w i l l s pend years in simply w a i t i n g for All a c hance to sell out and move back again.

a like c l i n g to the ungracious a cres t hey have so p atiently a nd h a r d l y w o n , b ecause o f the w i l d w o r l d t hat lies outside their puny fences, b ecause o f t he dream-vistas, blue and violet, that lead t heir eyes a far among the h ills . . . T h e site of a cabin is usually chosen as near as possible to a fine spring. w ater. There is a strong N o other advanprejudice against tages w i l l e ver make up f o r the lack of g o o d p u m p s ; i f a w e l l must be dug, it is usually left o pen to the air, and the water is reached by m eans of a hooked pole w h i c h requires some skillful b ucket. m anipulation to prevent losing the Cisterns are considered filthy; water

t hat has stood overnight is " d e a d w a t e r , " h a r d l y fit t o wash one's f ace i n . T h e mountaineer takes t he same pride i n his water supply as the r ich m an i n his wine cellar, and is in this respect a c onnoisseur. N o n e but the purest and coldest [19]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E M O U N T A I N S

o f f reestone w i l l s atisfy h i m ; chalybeate, w h i c h the city people make so much of, is no favorite, except as an i ron w ater spring or w e l l is believed n ever to go dry. P ure a ir is p r i z e d as h i g h l y as pure water, a nd a c abin door is always open, s ave a t n i g h t o r d uring the worst weather. T h i s , w i t h the c racks and "cat-holes" where the c h i n k i n g falls o ut, naturally renders windows superfluous, a n d t hey are rarely found in the older houses. O f c ourse, many habits of cabin life w o u l d seem uncleanly to dwellers in a better c i v i l i z a tion. B u t this existence is nearly as p r i m i t i v e as that of the D a r k Ages, and p r i m i t i v e life is n ecessarily dirty, i f for no other reason than t hat it is lived close to the ground. as we are apt to imagine. Nearness to the s oil is not so much a mere figure of speech I f you w i l l t hink, you w i l l see that this must be so. W h e n a m an has not only the l i v i n g t o provide, b ut many of his f a r m implements and m u c h of h is furniture   tables, [20] chairs, axe-helves, b read-bowls, cupboards, cradles, even looms a n d

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E

MOUNTAINS

w agons t o make w i t h the help of a few neighb o r s     p e r h a p s his own shoemaking and blacksmithing t o do, and certainly fuel to h a u l and a c rop to r a i s e     w h e r e is his time for b a t h i n g ? W h e r e , indeed, is his opportunity, when a l l w i n ter the only r o o m w i t h a fire in it is crowded n ight and day? W h e n t he mother of his household has to pick a nd d r y w i l d f r u i t s ; wash the w o o l , card, spin a nd w eave i t ; make soap, hominy, butter, l a r d a nd m olasses; take care of the meat when the m en h ave k i l l e d a nd cut it u p     y e s , and raise p oultry, besides a l l the o r d i n a r y care of a househ o l d ; w hen, moreover, it is a very fortunate w ife, indeed, w h o does n ot carry a considerable b urden o f duties properly supposed to belong to m asculine shoulders, such as b r i n g i n g w o o d a n d w ater, m i l k i n g , a n d r a i s i n g g a r d e n     w i t h a l l t his, o h, d e a r ! how can s he comb her h a i r every day? A n d w hen, in addition to the endless t o i l , t he l a n d f r o m w h i c h the l i v i n g m ust be w r u n g is " so poor it w o u l d n ' t h a r d l y raise a f i g h t "     t h u s [21]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

e nforcing t he most petty economies of i m p r o p e r f ood a nd worn-out c l o t h i n g     w h a t wonder i f t here are not dishes enough to go around when c ompany comes, and children must eat h usband's coffee-cup? from t heir p arents' plates or a wife d r i n k f r o m her I have seen a w o m a n c arry w ater, dress a f o w l , mix bread, feed her c ow and pick up chips a l l in the same b i g tin p a n , s imply because i t was the only vessel she h a d ; I h ave seen pies rolled out and potatoes mashed w i t h a b eer-bottle found in the road. T h e wonder is that they do occasionally take a b a t h ; that the cooking is frequently g o o d ; that m ilk-jars a re sunned and scalded into irreproachable s weetness; t hat sedge-brooms are scrubbed t o a stump every other w eek; t hat w a s h i n g is d one regularly at the spring, where, unless the w oman has a washboard, a "battle-block" sits beside the tubs and the g reat p ot mounted on a r ude stone furnace. W h i t e sand is sometimes s trewed on the kitchen floor and renewed f r o m d ay to day; the i ron c ooking-pots and spiders a rc t horoughly burned to free them of rust a n d [22]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E

MOUNTAINS

g rease; a nd a b a r r e l of lye soap is made yearly f r o m w o o d ashes a n d scraps of p o r k waste. L a s t l y , t he cleansing and v e n t i l a t i n g powers of a n o pen w o o d fire must be k n o w n to be appreciated. S alt p o r k is the mountaineer's standby, a n d t he d r i p p i n g f r i e d out of it is his butter, his s yrup, h is o i l . Sometimes this g rease is eaten with c lear, the biscuits being d i p p e d into it, but it is m ore often made into a " w h i t e g r a v y " m i l k a nd milk. W h e n a ny member of the f a m i l y is taken i l l t he first article of f o o d thought of is an egg, but i t is usually f r i e d to the consistency of leather b efore it reaches the i n v a l i d . low   grease, o bject, B abies f r o m the If you her f irst m onth are fed on anything they w i l l s walsugar or strong coffee. the mother points w i t h pride to flour. B u t the poorest have not even

s turdy older c h i l d r e n , never reflecting that i n s uch a s evere w eeding-out only the w e l l n i g h invulnerable survive. N o r are the mountaineers [23] a ware that they have, as a people, the worst

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E

MOUNTAINS

s tomachs in the w o r l d , for dyspepsia in its various f orm is called, in nine cases o ut of ten, e ither consumption or heart disease   a thing less serious. C i v i l i z a t i o n is not likely soon to remedy this e vil, since it substitutes drugged whiskey t heir o wn moonshine, and badly p lugs for home-grown " s c r i p " tobacco. for compounded It also mountaineer would be ashamed to succumb to any-

i ntroduces cheap baking powders a n d the s alicylic a cid which is so dangerously convenient i n c anning f ruit. Y et, though we violate every rule of hygiene, w e are a strong people, sound of w i n d a n d l imb, l abor. m a k i n g l i g h t of hardship and heavy A d octor is not thought of, except i n

cases o f broken bones or actual danger of d e a t h ; o rdinary a ilments and c h i l d b i r t h are endured as a m atter of course. Starvation and exposure do s ometimes b r i n g on real consumption, but there a re plenty of men seventy years o l d w h o can f arm a nd plow and f ell t rees a nd h a u l w o o d , and r ule t he tribe they have raised, and get d r u n k [24]

  
THE

SPIRIT

OP T H E

MOUNTAINS

as heartily as any young buck of the new generation. T h e r e is a f a r m in H a l l e t ' s F o r k where I love t o visit. It has a charm f o r me quite apart f r o m is not the artist w h o O n e of the finer p hases for m ere picturesqueness   it l oves the country b est. o f its people. i s a delight. I h ear the day begin w i t h the twitter of birds     w r e n s that are b u i l d i n g in the p o r c h e aves, m artins in their h i g h swinging gourds, and the b luebirds whose four sky-colored e ggs a re h i d i n a h ollow apple tree behind the kitchen. The m oon, p eeled down to a t hin s having, has h u n g j ust over the sunset, and the night has been dark, b ut at last a d i m l i g h t filters t h r o u g h the one s mall w i n d o w , showing one by one the homely p ieces o f furniture and the hanks of "spunt r u c k " a n d carpet r ags b unched l i k e h uge b ananas on a peg in the w a l l . [25] T h e house-mother,

o f this wholesome life is the s weet h ospitality M y visit i n v a r i a b l y extends d ays b eyond m y first intention, a n d every h o u r

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E M O U N T A I N S

s eeing the daylight, rises, and presently the shine o f a p itch-pine blaze is dancing over the rafters u ntil i t shall be "put out by the s u n . " T h e stir that o f t he household w akes t he mother-hen

sleeps in the woodshed, and she leads f o r t h her b rood w i t h clucking and cheeping; the house-cat a nd h er kittens set up a c r y ; the d ogs r un in and o ut as soon as the latch is l i f t e d ; a flood of w akening sounds pour in f r o m y a r d and treetop; Bess and Piedy proclaim the smarting f ullness o f their udders, and the team lifts a raucous b ray as the boys open the barn door. is a wake. T h e n , f ar a w a y     a s f r o m another w o r l d     comes a different note. F a i n t as it is, it could You there the are have it is woodn ot, were it a trumpet blast, more distinctly p ierce the cloak of local interest. been deceived, listen e a g e r l y     n o , c oarser thrush ! I t t hrills y ou awake instantly; you put the [26] creatures   the hymn of conscious of it at once, think you must The farm

a gain, unmistakable a m i d the conversation o f

  
THE

SPIRIT

OF T H E

MOUNTAINS

n ight f r o m your eyes a nd sleep f r o m every muscle; y ou are at once ready f o r new and brave w ork, a nd your m i n d i s freed f r o m a l l i m p u r i ties. T h e concerns of the f a r m , the d a i l y round