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Updated: September 12, 2025
From the old scholar, whom fate or circumstance had sent to preside over the Gullettsville Academy, she had caught something of the flavour and grace of cultivation a gentle dignity, leaning always to artlessness, and a quick appreciation, which was in itself a rare accomplishment. The day for the wedding was set, and Woodward went his way to Atlanta.
As the young man reined up his horse at the door, Squire Pleasants stepped briskly inside and pulled a string which communicated with a bell somewhere in the backyard. "This is the Gullettsville Hotel, is it not?" the young man asked. "Well, sir," responded the squire, rubbing his hands together, "sence you push me so clos't, I'll not deny that this here's the tavern.
There was a tradition perhaps only a rumour among the Woodwards that the Hog Mountain land-lot covered a vein of gold, and to investigate this was a part of the young man's business in Gullettsville; entirely subordinate, however, to his desire to earn the salary attached to his position.
Sighs are frequently very effective with school-girls, but those that followed Sis Poteet fell short and were wasted on the air; and she continued to ride from the mountain to the valley and from the valley to the mountain in profound ignorance of the daily sensation she created among the young men of Gullettsville, to whom her fine figure, her graceful ways, and her thrillingly beautiful face were the various manifestations of a wonderful revelation.
In addition to the latent pride of his class, he inherited the sensitiveness of his ancestors, but, turning his eyes neither to the right nor to the left, he jogged along to the wedding. He carried his wife home, and thereafter avoided Gullettsville. When he was compelled to buy coffee and sugar, or other necessary luxuries, he rode forty miles across the mountain to Villa Bay.
He pictured to himself the scorn and bitterness with which she would connect his presence on the Mountain with the murder of Ab Bonner, and he concluded to ride on to Gullettsville. He took Teague Poteet by the hand. "Good-bye, old man," he said; "I shall remember you. Tell Miss Sis well, tell Miss Sis good-bye." With that he wheeled his horse and rode rapidly toward Gullettsville.
They had their frolic, to be sure, as Sid Parmalee or Tip Watson will tell you, but an incident occurred which took the edge off their enjoyment, and gave them the cue of soberness. Two of Woodward's friends young men from Atlanta bore him company to Hog Mountain. At Gullettsville they fell in with Uncle Jake Norris, at all times a jovial and companionable figure.
Ef you uv rid 'im down to Gullettsville an' back sence a while ago, he'll be a-needin' feed thereckly. Thes come right in an' make yourselves at home." Woodward laughed sheepishly, but Sis rushed across the yard, flung her arms around Teague's neck, and fell to crying with a vehemence that would have done credit to the most broken-hearted of damsels.
The gold excitement brought some; while others, set adrift by the exigencies of the plantation system, found it easier and cheaper to get to North Georgia than to reach Louisiana or Mississippi. Thus, in 1859, Teague Poteet, a young man of thirty or thereabouts, was tilling, in a half-serious, half-jocular way, a small farm on Hog Mountain, in full view of Gullettsville.
The girl came running in, her dark eyes flashing, her black hair bewitchingly tangled, and her cheeks flushing with a colour hitherto unknown to the mountain. "What now, pap?" "I wuz thes a-thinkin' ef maybe you oughtn't to bresh up an' start to school down in Gullettsville." "O pap!" the girl exclaimed, clapping her hands with delight.
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