Читать книгу Memory's Storehouse Unlocked, True Stories. Pioneer Days In Wetmore and Northeast Kansas онлайн

8 страница из 136

There is not a person in this City today who was here when I came. Gone, all gone now. And nearly all dead. Something more than a tinge of sadness accompanies this thought. There is not a building of any kind standing that was here when I came—not a tree but what has been planted since that day. In truth, there is nothing, not a thing left, save the eternal hills and the creek which flows through the south edge of the City that antedates the time I came here.

Yet, I do not feel old. And should any of my friends choose to wish me anything, let them wish with me that I never do grow old.

ssss1

To enlarge a bit on our ever-flowing mineral spring! It was—and is—near the creek in a natural grove of big trees at the southwest limits of Wetmore. Nathaniel Morris, an early-day merchant, had an analysis of the water made—and talked of developing the spring into a health resort. The water was pronounced medicinally good — mostly iron, I believe. But, beyond attracting large celebration crowds, his dream was never realized. However, Morris induced the railroad to run in an “excursion” train of flat-cars canopied with heavy-foliaged brush against a blazing summer sun, on the occasion of one Fourth of July celebration. Green leafed brush also covered some of the stands on the south margin of the grove. Green brush was the standard picnic coverings in those days.