1 8773 T'he h,and of the Sky 



neighboring military school of Emory and Henry 

 College. When I left the train she inquired as to 

 my profession. ** Teacher," said I. With a dis- 

 concerted look she replied: "Oh, I thought you 

 were a drummer!" 



From the end of the branch road above Morris- 

 town our party walked up the French Broad, the 

 most picturesque of Southern rivers, through the 

 Great Smoky Mountains to Asheville, North Caro- 

 lina. About Asheville they lovingly call the French About 

 Broad country "The Land of the Sky," a name ^^'^^^^^^^ 

 borrowed from the title of a novel by "Christian 

 Reid," which deals with that region. The people 

 there seemed a bit jealous of the Colorado Moun- 

 tains — higher, they admitted, but certainly not 

 as beautiful. 



The early stories of Mary Noailles Murfree 

 ("Charles Egbert Craddock") dealt with the moun- 

 tain folk of the upper French Broad, the peculiar 

 minor key of their lives being sympathetically re- 

 produced. Among these I particularly recall the 

 pathetic "Harnt that Walks Chilhowee," "The 

 Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains," and 

 "The Despot of Broomsedge Cove." 



Now a noted tourists' resort, though merely a 

 mountain village at the time of my first visit, Ashe- 

 ville is also the county seat of Buncombe, a name 

 which has enriched our language. Back in the '50's, Buncombe 

 Buncombe sent a flamboyant orator to the state ^''««^3' 

 assembly at Raleigh. After a flight of fatuous 

 eloquence he explained to his colleagues that they 

 need pay no special attention; he was "only talk- 

 ing for Buncombe." The word therefore came to 

 be used for pretentious and empty discourses aimed 



C 161 1 



