Public Ledger

Gossipy, Sentimental Letter
From a Home-Sick
Wanderer.
[Correspondence Public Ledger.]
Henderson, Ky., November 12.
It is singular how objects can and
will influence one's feelings and direct
one's thoughts. Being down at the
levee an hour or two ago when the
Cons Millar arrived, I experienced a
feeling of loneliness and even sadness.
as the thought came to my mind that
she would be, two days hence, where I
would like to be now, but shall not be
before the latter part of next week. I
went on board the Millar and found
everybody at dinner, and, from the
appearance of the tables, they were
enjoying a good one. There seemed
to be quite a number of passengers,
and among them I noticed several
ladies. The freight trip must have
been an unusually good one, for the
steamer was loaded down to the
guards. Away up on top I saw a ve-
hicle with "St. Peter's Orphan Asy-
lum" painted on it in large letters.
and this brought to my mind Prof.
Winkler's charming concert which is
to be given in St. Peter's church on
Monday night. Oh! how I wish I
could be there, for I know it will be a
perfect feast of melodies.
This is quite a handsome and pros-
perous little city of some seven or
eight thousand inhabitants, several
flouring mills, distilleries, saw mills,
any number of large tobacco ware-
houses and as nice and intelligent a
population as can be found anywhere.
The streets are broad and generally
macadamized and beautifully shaded
and level. I hear very little about
politics, but a great deal about rail-
roads, and it is believed that within
the next year or so there will be a
more direct connection with Memphis
by way of the Evansville, Jackson &
New Orleans railroad, recently organ-
ized. The drought of the past season
set things back a little, but these are a
go ahead people and they won't stay
down. Among the prominent cit-
izens (and there are many of
them) is Mr. Stephen K. Sneed
cashier of the Henderson national
bank. He is a cousin of Judge Sneed.
an uncle of the attorney of the same
name, and a cousin also of the Taylors
and Mr. J. A. Hayes, of the State Na-
tional Bank of your city, and a gen-
tleman, withal, whom any one might
be proud to claim as a kinsman.
Colonel S. H. Hayes and his nephew
"Willie," of your city, are well known
and highly spoken of here.
Thursday, was a gloomy, disagreea-
ble, rainy day, and the night was cold.
Yesterday was murky, cloudy and
misty with rain after sunset, but to-
day is charmingly bright. Indeed, as
I look out upon the green lawn facing
my window and the trees not yet be-
reft of their verdant summer foliage, I
inadvertently call to mind a well
remembered expression, and exclaim,
"Oh! isn't that lovely?" But I can't
repeat it as sweetly as I heard it.
I like Henderson, but in spite of
this liking and all the attractions I
find here, my heart turns longingly in
search of what Henderson does not
contain.
I gaze upon the earth and skies,
And all their beauties bright,
And yet I long for soft blue eyes,
Now hidden from my sight.
And from these beauties here around
My anxious heart will stray.
With space-annihilating bound,
To loved ones far away.
And soon I shall from here be gone,
And on will go with speed,
Until those eyes shall look upon
Their loving
Jimpson Weed.