armless, but
persistent, individual so numerous in the South--the man who is always
clamoring for more cotton mills, and is ready to take a dollar's worth
of stock, provided he can borrow the dollar--that man added his deadly
work to the tourist's innocent praise, and Okochee fell.

The Cooloosa River winds through a range of small mountains, passes
Okochee and then blends its waters trippingly, as fall the mellifluous
Indian syllables, with the Chattahoochee.

Okochee rose, as it were, from its sunny seat on the post-office stoop,
hitched up its suspender, and threw a granite dam two hundred and forty
feet long and sixty feet high across the Cooloosa one mile above the
town. Thereupon, a dimpling, sparkling lake backed up twenty miles
among the little mountains. Thus in the great game of municipal
rivalry did Okochee match that famous drawing card, the Hudson. It was
conceded that nowhere could the Palisades be judged superior in the way
of scenery and grandeur. Following the picture card was played the ace
of commercial importance. Fourteen thousand horsepower would this dam
furnish. Cotton mills, factories, and manufacturing plants would rise
up as the green corn after a shower. The spindle and the flywheel and
turbine would sing the shrewd glory of Okochee. Along the picturesque
heights above the lake would rise in beauty the costly villas and the
splendid summer residences of capital. The naphtha launch of the
millionaire would spit among the romantic coves; the verdured hills
would take formal shapes of terrace, lawn, and park. Money would be
spent like water in Okochee, and water would be turned into money.

The fate of the good town is quickly told. Capital decided not to
invest. Of all the great things promised, the scenery alone came to
fulfilment. The wooded peaks, the impressive promontories of solemn
granite, the beautiful green slants of bank and ravine did all they
could to reconcile Okochee to the delinquency of miserly gold. The
sunsets gilded the dreamy draws and coves with a minting that should
charm away heart-burning. Okochee, true to the instinct of its blood
and clime, was lulled by the spell. It climbed out of the arena,
loosed its suspender, sat down again on the post-office stoop, and took
a chew. It consoled itself by drawling sarcasms at the city council
which was not to blame, causing the fathers, as has been said, to seek
back streets and figure perspiringly on the sinking