Written for the News.
The Sequatchie Valley is beautiful provided one had wings to view it by, but you positively cannot see the county for the dreadful roads.
A go-cart, a carriage, a wagon or an automobile are out of the question. Only a mule and a man who has lost all sense of feeling, physical, moral, political and religious, can travel such roads, I was going to say, but I will change it and say only a man who has infinite patience, unending endurance, and who has vowed never to break the second commandment should risk his life or his reputation upon them.
Nature gave to the valley beautiful scenery, a fertile yielding soil, and such environments should produce progressive, public-spirited men. Every man in the county who opposes any measure whatsoever that assures us good roads should be buried alive to the tune of Tom Hood’s
“Rattle his bones over the stones,
Only a poor pauper whom nobody
When Rome of old conquered the then known world, she hewed her way into every country by the building of the famous Roman roads, and civilization followed fast in the way of every Roman road.
There is nothing else under the sun so civilizing as well kept roads wherever you find them tor you can count on good schools, thritty [sic] churches, and prosperous people. The man who hauls his produce to market over a fine road holds his head more erect, carries himself more proudly than the man who has all the style thumped out of him jolting over the stones and in to the ruts. Progress and prosperity go hand in hand with good roads. Let us all join bands and girdle the county with a system of fine roads.
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