THE AMERICAN BOTANIST. 
77 
silver trunks were festooned with the flame-colored blossoms 
of the trumpet creeper, — the floral emblem of Kentucky. 
After leaving the main route we entered a rough country 
road that passed beneath the edge of a large rock projecting 
far over a cave entrance. As we approached, the cave opened 
dark and weird before us, and the road was in deep shadow 
under the immense chestnut oaks and beeches that bordered 
it. A number of wagon wheels leaned against the wall of 
rock. These suggested that they were possibly the remains 
of accidents that had occurred on this rough, rocky road; but 
we found on coming nearer, — and one really does not expect 
to find cliff-dwellers in Kentucky, — that there was a black- 
smith's shop under the projecting rock, and that a family made 
their home in the cave ! 
When we reached our first stopping place, and made ar- 
rangements for board, including the services of a "small boy" 
to act as our guide over the hills, we saw the eyes of our 
African driver grow big with wonder and surprise ; for there 
is nothing the town ''darkey" has more contempt for than the 
country ''white trash" as he dubs them. As he glanced at 
the head of the family, his many shoe-less children, and the 
log cabin in the back-ground, he exclaimed : "Y'all ain't 
goin' to stay heah by yourself is you ?" 
A feeling of sadness came over us as we watched our 
driver turn the horses homeward and we were left in the 
wilderness, may miles from a railway. Checking, however, 
any thoughts of the flesh pots we immediately started on a col- 
lecting tramp — a sure cure for any of the worries of life — and 
were soon absorbed in its pleasures. We were prepared to 
rough it, so were not surprised that our room was of unplaned 
and unsealed boards. A weed grew up through the floor, a 
foot or more above the boards. There was no fastening on 
the door; a chair with the water-bucket on it answered as a 
bolt at night. The bed, with only one sheet, was our one 
