The region traversed by the railway is sparsely settled, the ground being generally unfavorable to agriculture.  For some time after this portion of the road was opened, the natives refused to give it patronage, many of them declaring that the old mode of travel, by horseback, was the best of all.  During the first week after opening the Southwest Branch, the company ran a daily freight train each way.  All the freight offered in that time was a bear and a keg of honey.  Both were placed in the same car.  The bear ate the honey, and the company was compelled to pay for the damage.

I have heard a story concerning the origin of the name of Rolla, which is interesting, though I cannot vouch for its truth.  In selecting a name for the county seat of Phelps County, a North Carolinian residing there, suggested that it should do honor to the capital of his native State.  The person who reduced the request to writing, used the best orthography that occurred to him, so that what should have been “Raleigh,” became “Rolla.”  The request thus written was sent to the Legislature, and the name of the town became fixed.  The inhabitants generally pronounce it as if the intended spelling had been adopted.

The journey from Rolla to Springfield was accomplished by stage, and required two days of travel.  For fifty miles the road led over mountains, to the banks of the Gasconade, one of the prettiest rivers I have ever seen.  The mountain streams of Southwest Missouri, having their springs in the limestone rock, possess a peculiarity unknown in the Eastern States.  In a depth of two feet or less, the water is apparently as clear as that of the purest mountain brook in New England.  But when the depth reaches, or exceeds, three feet, the water assumes a deep-blue tinge, like that of the sky in a clear day.  Viewed from an elevation, the picture is one that cannot be speedily forgotten.  The blue water makes a marked contrast with surrounding objects, as the streams wind through the forests and fields on their banks.  Though meandering through mountains, these rivers have few sharp falls or roaring rapids.  Their current is usually gentle, broken here and there into a ripple over a slightly descending shallow, but observing uniformity in all its windings.

My first night from Rolla was passed on the banks of the Gasconade.  Another day’s ride, extended far into the second night, found me at Springfield.  When I reached my room at the hotel, and examined the bed, I found but one sheet where we usually look for two.  Expostulations were of no avail.  The porter curtly informed me, “People here use only one sheet.  Down in St. Louis you folks want two sheets, but in this part of the country we ain’t so nice.”

I appreciated my fastidiousness when I afterward saw, at a Tennessee hotel, the following notice:—­

“Gentlemen who wish towels in their rooms must deposit fifty cents at the office, as security for their return.”