“Well,” exclaimed a devoted citizen as he cheerfully discussed the subject with us, “in every country there is an occasional force which carries off the surplus population; sometimes it is fire, or flood, earthquakes or mining explosions. Nature sends us the yellow fever; of course it is not a pleasant visitor, but it does its work well enough, and I don’t know but it is as well to get out of the world that way as any other.”
It is impossible to enumerate half the pleasant excursions which may be taken from New Orleans. Its wonderful watery highways are among the finest in the world, and wind through the land in all directions. By them you may travel anywhere and everywhere through the loveliest scenery of the South, as pleasantly as though the panorama were passing the windows of your own drawing-room.
Splendid steamers--floating palaces indeed of gigantic proportions, luxuriously upholstered, and fitted with all the carving and gilding so dear to some travellers’ hearts--are eternally passing to and fro. We were strongly disposed to take a trip on the “Natchez,” the sovereign vessel, but time pressed, and we were compelled to move on.
Atlanta.--A wilderness of bricks and mortar.--Lovely surroundings.--Scarlet woods.--Memorial day.--Scenes in the cemetery.
About five o’clock on a sultry afternoon we start on the cars for Atlanta. The train is crowded, the day is bright, the spiritual thermometer stands high, and everybody seems resolved to be social with everybody else; they commence with a running fire of casual gossip, and proceed to give gratuitous information of a confidential character concerning themselves and their families. One gentleman is returning from Texas, and fondly cherishes a banana tree, which he is carrying home to his wife in Atlanta, intending to try and coax it into growing in the garden there. He has tried the experiment before, he tells us, but the banana will not take kindly to the soil; in spite of all care hitherto it has invariably drooped and died. Still, he does not despair; like the lonely scion of a sickly family he will cherish this last, and endeavour to raise a new family on his native soil.
We fare well on this journey; though there are no regular eating stations erected on the way yet we are well provided for. People come on the cars at certain places, bringing plates of broiled chicken and meats, with delicious little brown crisp rolls of bread, hard boiled eggs, and tarts, covered with snow-white napkins, and daintily arranged so as to tempt the appetite; and baskets of delicious grapes and peaches with the tender bloom upon them, and every kind of fruit that is in season. Glasses of iced milk, a delicious beverage, may also be obtained.