The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on March 4, 1891 · Page 3
Get access to this page with a Free Trial
Click to view larger version

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, March 4, 1891
Page:
Page 3
Cancel
Start Free Trial

Page 3 article text (OCR)

THE EEPUBLICAN. ALGONA, IOWA. A LESSON. of I stood In the eabln where Poverty's hand Was holding and swaying the scoptor power- Was crushing:, It scorned, bjr a demon's command, The spirit oi all and the joy of each hour- Ana I thought, as I gazed on the floor and the walls, How bitter—how cruel Is Poverty's sting, How barren this cabin compared with the halls Where Wealth Is the master, the ruler—the klngj But, lo, as I mused, there entered the room Sweet Love and Content in their beauty and pride, While Courage was holding the hands of a groom, And Hope was inspiring the words of a bride. Enraptured I gaaed on the beautiful scene; The brido and the f,rooca at the earnest command Of Love, who was crowned as the ruler supreme, Woro breaking the scepter In Poverty's hand. X stood in the cabin each day as the years With all thoir troubles were hurrying past. And saw, through the clangers, the oaros, and the fears, That Love will be loyal If Courage will last 'The scepter was broken, and Poverty's power Was forced from the cabin; the bride and the groom With Hopo and Content, each moment and hour. Wore aidsd by Plenty In filling the room. The cabin has fallen; the bride and the groom Now live in a mansion that's atatelv and grand, The beauty adorning the walls of each roots Tells plainly that Love is still holding command. With Courage and Hope and with Love and Content, With hearts that were fearless and hopeful and true, They met all tlie dangers with changeless Intent, And so taught a lesson to me and to you. —Detroit Free Press. GOOD STAYEKS. Ho-w Cousin Jabez Put in All the Time There Was. "There's one thing about it," said Aunt Hannah Parsons, "if Cousin Jabez Thayer comes down from Berkshire to stay over we shan't have no place fur 'im to sleep. He weighs two hundred and fifty if he does a pound, an' it takes an unornary bed ter hold 'im; an' he snores—I've 'heard 'is wife, that wuz, say—like a burrowed bear, Bo't he has ter hev a hull room ter his- eelf. With Uncle Riyal's folkses a-com- in', an' all the rest, I don't know how't we're goin' ter work ter lodge 'm. We've made up extra beds a'reidy in the back chamber an' the summer dairy, an'—" "Oh it's easy enough to get along •with Jabez, Aunt Hannah," said Aaron Taylor, who had just dropped into the old tavern long- kitchen. "Jabe will set up all night if he hes some one ter talk to. He beats all for settin' up. I shouldn't wonder if he'd never say noth- in' about goin' ter bed if nobudy said ,nothm' tor him. I should like ter see it tried. I'll agree ter cum over an' give him a pull till midnight, an' the boys here ken git up along, one at a time, ter keep 'im company, an 1 he never'l think what time 'tis till breakfast's reddy." "Ez big er hand ter hold on, Jabez is, as old Billy Rarthburne used to be," said Uncle Tom Knowlton, bracing one of his broad shoulders against the casing' of the kitahen door. "He used ter live up Moose Medder way, an' he never knew when-ter-come nor when-ter-go. One orful rough Janurwary night, full enter 9 o'clock, I heard a hell-upon- airth of a gee-up an' gee-whoa-in' right out in my door-yard. I ketched up er candle an' held it above my eyes an' opened the suth'ard door an' peeked put. When ther light hed insinocated its way thru' the mist a little, what should I see but Uncle Billy with three yoke er cattle rig-lit ther hi the chip- yard. 'Twas rainin' like swill, an' er f reezin' es fast es it fell, but he stopped his team out ther by the well sumwhers, an' cum along up ter ther door. 'Thought I'd drop in, es long es I was down this way,' he sed, sez he, "rid I daren't leave them durned critters in the road for fear they'd cut 'n' run 'n' go hum 'n' leave me ter foot it. My folkses wnd be scairt tor death ter hev ther team ctuu hum without me.' " 'Cum in,' sez I, an' he cum in. '"Real, old-fashioned Jannerwary thaw,' sez he, beginnin' ter take off two or three top-a-most coats. 'Ther wind blows out or ther northermost corner er sun-risin' enough ter- cut er man in tew', spell 1 heeiti a pair of old cow-hid boots comtn' along oft th« frozen ground—stomp, clump, tromp, scrape— an' in como Lysand, and sot down and began to tell the news, an' I didn't sa ttuthen', but just watched the clock Byrne by it struck 'leven, an' he talked and talked an' the long hand crawled and crawled, an byme by I said: 'Ifa een a most to- morrer, an' this is the last hour, an 1 the last half, an' the last quarter of it ter aay. If you've got any partlckerler business afore the honorable board o •sessors for this year, Its high time 'twa* •tended tew.' 'Ter be sure! Ter bo sure! thankee,' said Lysand, and he straightened up—he was a master tal man, an' held up his right hand, an when he got through ho sot down agin he did, I swan, an' the clock strucl twelve, an' he sot an' he talked an' the clock struck one, and he kept on settin an' kept a talkin', an» I swan the, oU clock run down! You see 'twas er one day at a time wooden 'rangement, an I allus wound it the last thing afore ] went ter bed, so I got up and wound the clock and kivered tip the fire an lighted an extra candle an' said jest as polite as I knew how: 'Mr Hull, we should be pleased ter have you spcnc the night with us,' an' he riz up upon that, an' sez he: 'No, I thankee, mueh obleeged, I must.be agoin', and off he went, an' I heerd the old cow-hides goin' scrape, tromp, clump, stomp over the frozen ground. I never heerd the beater that, an' if Jabez can beat it I hope you'll let 'im jist fur the sake of the story.'.' "When I lived up ter ther north part er ther -town .we was nighest nabors a quarter of a mile er so, to Cap'n Dick Pearl's," said Uncle Nat Dimock, who had been attracted kitchenward by the chorus of laughter that followed the ex-assessor's story, "an' he'd come over on some arrant, airly candle lightin', 'n say he couldn't stay a minit; an he'd keep holt er the latch er the door an' stan'. there an' talk an' open ther door an' get half out, 'n come back an' shet the- door an' talk, an one Jn another wud go off ter bed, til there wouldn't be a soul left but me. An' one night I vow if I didn't go to sleep in my cheer after he'd opened the door an' shet it more'n twenty times 'n hadn't sot down at all; an' when I woke up he wasn't there—so I s'pose he managed somehow to go. One winter's mornin' he come over to our house afore light—we was a-eaten' brekfust, I know, 'n he sed he wuz in a greal huiry ter borrer er log chain, 'en axed "im sunthin' er nuther about his quarrel with Uncle Jim Caldwell about a line fence, an' he took er cheer an' entered inter pertickerlers, an' I'll be hanged ef he didn't keep it up till my wife hed dinner on ther table, an' his wife come after him, an' he hadn't hod a mou'ful ter eat thet day." "That puts me in mind of Joe Prindle," said Aunt Hannah, who was up to her elbows in the bread tray, mixing rye and Indian into a sticky mass that was sure to turn out the most excellent of brown bread. "When he was a young spark he used ter go to see Hannah Simmons, an' he would stay 'n' stay, 'n' never know when ter go home. One hot summer night, after he'd been a reapin' rye all day, he w*as tired, ] s'pose, 'n' he dropped ersleep hi his cheer, 'n' snored like all-possessed. She went 'n' fetched er pillar 'n' put under his head, an' then she fetched the old-fashioned long-handled dash churn an' set it down beside her cheer, 'n' put on it her little white dimity ruffled cape 'n' ap'on, an' hung her little cap on top er the dash an' went ter bed. He woke up at day break an' see what the joke wuz, an' he put the cape 'n' ap'on an' he sot down, an' ther 'e sot 'n' sot. "There was a pitcher, an' pepper an' cider a-brewin' on the hairth, an' I told 'im ter help hisself, 'n' he help hisself till the tears ran down his cheeks. 'Amazin' warmin' ter ther stomach!' he'd say onoe in er while, an' ther he sot, 'n' the old clock struck ten, an' . after considerable of a spell—'n hour er BO—it struck 'leven. The cider wuz all gone, 'n' I didn't offer ter git no more, V my wife begun ter kiver the back log, 'n' ho begun ter put on his top-a- most coats—'n' the clock struck twelve fcf ore his hell-upon-airth of a gee-up an' gee-whoain' wuz over ther hill an' outer hearin'—an' he three mild frum hum then." "Yis, he wu9 a master hand to stay," fiaid Uncle Ben Dennis—who came in to light his pipe with a coal from the open fire—"but he couldn't come up ter Ly- eander Hull. One time when I was 'sessor, aa' the time wuz about up fur 'em tar come ter swear ter their list, some er the farmers that allus wait till the old cat is aear about dead afore they come up ter the scratch, come draggin' along the very last arter- noon and evenin'. There was William He unery Crocker an' Wnus Briggs an' little Tom Upton, an' they all had swore so-help-me-and-so-forth, an' gone, an' my wife said: 'Well, it's nine o'clock, an' they must be the end on't.' 'Not by a long chalk,' says I. 'Lysander Hull allus brings up the rear,' So she put ther buckwheats a-risin' for breakfast an' went off ter bed, eo I tipped a>y «hair back in the conw 'n wilted till aitev ten. J kept a listen ta' an' in sed old cap in his pocket 'n' went off. She told on't, 'n' it got all around, 'n' every budy had their fling at Joe, 'n' we all thought 'twould Ireak up ther match. But he kept a goin 1 ter see her jest the same—but min.d ye, he kept awake— an' after a considerable of er spell they wuz engaged. She sod she had ter promise ter hav 'im ter git her property back." "I uster know her," said Zebediah Marcy, who happened to remember that his wife wanted him to ask Aunt Hannah for her rule for "riz cake," and so had made his way from the bar-room to the hospitable kitchen. "She was own cousin to Darius Glazier. A great hand to visit, Darius was, an' he had the greatest knack at allus happening in about meal time. He never would hitch his horse, but would drive up, drop his lines 'n' go in. 'Grimes,'he would say, 'any hoss thet belongs ter me has got ter stan', 'n' if they don't know how to stan' at fust they've got ter larn.' One dark, foggy night March he cum inter our house an' he'd been er-tradin' hosses with „„„ man Hammond, the grave-stone maker, an' he reckoned how he'd got er hoss that would stan' an' wait till he'd hed time ter bargain and sell er gravestone. He laughed about it all the evenin,' an' told stories about all the hosses he'd ever owned, an' hain't he larnt them on 'em ter stan' that wouldn't ter begin with? Amazin' fond of er a hoss, 'Riuz wuz. 'N' at last be made up his mind ter go, 'n' I lit the lantun, an' we all went out, wife an' all, ter see the new hoss. Darius went ahead, an' when he got where 'twas 'twan't there. " 'Why the tarnal critter's gone,' said he, 'Grimes! I wonder how long she thought she'd otter wait ter hev a grave-stun sold?' "We thot she might hev gone ter the barn, or under shed, or inte-r the sheep fold, 'n we all hunted. 'CTwas darker thin tar, 'n the fog wuz thicker then black sheep's wool. We lit up a lot er pine torches thet we use, you know, when we go a fishin' in ther night, 'n 'twas comical 'nuff ter see us prowUn' all over the primises with ther slush up to our knees. Jest as we concluded that she had started for Monson, ter her old home, my boy Joe sung out thet he'd found tracks he couldn't count for, leadin' down toward the river, an' Darius sed he guessed she was so disgusted with her new master she'd sot out to drown herself. Wall, we all followed along arter tho tracks, an' half way ter ther river they struck oft Inv ; the left, an 1 we followed a hojf-mjie esc J more- an' e* s«r§ e* I'm found ther critter a-standin' stretehtn her neck over the burylng-ground fence. 'Good hoss,' said Darius. «You kaoW yo\ir biznoss—you sold a stun, an' then you come ter set It up. Ha! Hu!»" "Why, here's the stage a-comhi' reddy," said Aunt Hannah; "an 1 here's Jabe/.. So glad ter see ye, Jabe?, We've told all the young folkses abou you an' your stories, an' we hope j'O won't forget a single one on 'em." Jabez needed no encouragement to be entertaining 1 . He kept a laughing gronp around him from the moment he entered the old stage tavern. "The bakin's got to go on all night ter be ready fur the ball supper Thanksgiving night," said" Aunt Hannah "There's pound cake to bake anc brown bread, an' a load of pies, an' its true ez preachin' that there is more than twice as many folksea in ther house ez there is beds—not thet any house could have too many friends a Thanksgiving time, only it seems ter be an amazin' lucky time ter entertain Jabez,'' Jabez for his part talked and talkec without his stock of stories beginning to run dry. His listeners were attentive and responsive. To be sure, they changed off now and then; from time to time he found himself looking into different faces, but the laugh never failed at just the right point, and Jabez felt that he was the life of the company and was glad he had come. The time slipped away fast, and it did not seem long before the six o'clock breakfas' was ready. Jabez always was blessec with a good appetite, and it never occurred to him to think whether he was eating breakfast or supper. Before they were up from the table the Norwich stage came in, and after that there were comers and goers all day long. That night was the ball. Jabez and Aunt Hannah led the first figure, am Jabez danced all night, and the nexl day he went home. "Never hed so good a time in my life," he told his mother. "They was all master glad ter see me, an"'l wuz glad I went." "Whcre'd you sleep?" asked his mother, who had been brought up in the old Connecticut stage-tavern and was naturally anxious to kno%v all the particulars. "There wuz such a house full Niece Hannah couldn't hev puj you inter her best bed?" "Why, no, she didn't," said Jabez. ' didn't stay all night, did I? Why, _ must hev, fur I went of a Wednesday and now 'tis a Friday. I swanny! I hadn't thought on't, but I hain't been a-bed since I left Berkshire. I've done a powerful lot er talkin', I hain't been behind hand in the eatin' an' I've danced a good_deal, but I'll be blamed if I didn't put in all the time there wuz, fdr hain't slept a darned wink."—Mrs. Annie A. Preston, in Springfield Republican, c •* ABOUT DANCING. It Has Always Been a Popular Amusement—Origin of Dances. From time immemorial dancing has f ormed one of the chief amusements oi mankind. Repeated mention is made of it in Holy Writ, and among the cient Egyptians it constituted a very prominent and popular religious rite. Without a doubt the,Israelites gained their knowledge of it during the daya of their captivity hi the land of the Pharaohs. The Greeks of the olden time indulged in war dances, chief among which was one that became famous under the name of the Pyrrhic dance. In this the dancers depicted the actions of a warrior engaged in doing battle, the quick and agile movements being made to the accompaniment of a flute. There were, we are told, two hundred different dances in vogue among these Greeks. In ancient Rome dancing was one of the chief features of the magnificent fetes for which the Empire became so famous. One peculiarity of the principal dances of savage nations is that in nearly every instance they imitate the movements of 'animals. This is evidenced in the buffalo and bear dances of the North American Indians, the bear dance of the Kamschatkans and the tangaroo dance of the aboriginal Australians. Among Oriental nations the majority of dances are performed by professionals, the private individual being perfectly willing to pay to see others, but seeing neither rhyme nor reason in dancing himself. The Hungarians, Russians and Span- ards have characteristic dances, most of which are performed by gypsys. The >olka and redowa of the Hungarians, and the Spanish bolero, fandango and cachuca have become famous all over ,he world. The popular quadrille is .aid to have originated among the lelgians. The waltz had its beginning n Germany and from thence was taken' o France, shortly after which it was ntroduced into England. Hungary was the birthplace of the galopade, or falop, and from Poland came the tately polonaise, or polacca, and mazourka. One of the most noted methods of 'tripping the light fantastic" among he Scotch is the sword dance, which was originated by the Scandinavians and old Saxons, and at one time was indulged in by the Spaniards. The Irish reel and jig are two dances inseparably connected with our Milesian brethren, and in many respects greatly resembles the highland fling. In the majority of instances, there* fore, our latter day dances were known and enjoyed by our ancestors hundreds of years ago; and with slight modifications have been handed down for the edification of the present generation.— Detroit Free Press. A Point la Bostouese Grammar. He—The Bostonians are a brave people; they never say die. She—Don't they? He—No; they say "decease."—Mui* eey's Weekly. —No Feeling in It—Mrs. Hardup«- "iOh, dear! did you bear, love, that o!4 Mr. Newrich bad frozen his leg*" Hardup—"I've knpwn that for a long time, dear. J've been trying i» vaja to for PITH AND POINT. •-Primus—"How was Lanford's book sold? By subscription?" Seeundus— 'No, auction."—Kate Field's Washington. • —Hilow—"Now, look here, Woo- Dumper, I wouldn't he a fool if I were you." Bloobumper—"No, if you were I, you wouldn't he a fool."—Epoch. —After one girl has given you the sack and another the mitten, it is time to give up trying to gain your suit on the installment plan.—Halifax Critic. —Father—"If you expect to succeed in public life, my son, you must have push." Son—"I've got a pull, dad, and that's better than push."—Boston Transcript. —An Allegation.—"That woman married money." "Then there's bound to .be a separation." "Why?" "Woman and money do not stick to each other." —N. Y. Sun. —He "Wasn't hi It."—,Sanso^"Have you been playing poker for money?" RoiM (disconsolately)—"No; but the fellows I've been playing with have."— N. Y. Herald. —"You're in a hurry," said the impertinent conductor. "No; you're wrong," retorted the sarcastic passenger. "Quite the reverse. I'm in a horse-car."—Harper's Bazar. —He—"One kiss is worth a hundred letters." She—"Oh, you're very senti- menttd." He—"Oh, no. The kiss, you know, can't be introduced in a breach- of-promise suit."—American Stationer. —In Doubt.— Harduppe—"Miss Laura, have yo\i considered my note—my letter —er—my proposal?" Miss Laura—"I really do not know how to consider it— whether as a proposal or a challenge to a fasting match. "—Indianapolis Journal. —She's His Annie.—Elaine—"What can you see to admire in that young jackanapes, Muchcash? Ho is a mere money-bag, yet you dote upon him as if he were a luxury." Imogene—"Well, he is one, dear. He is my canvas-back duck."—Chicago Times. —Two Households.—Mrs. Heartsore —"Yes, it jusl keeps me on pins and needles to think my dear boy belongs to a foot-ball club. I'm so afraid something will happen. Does yours?" Mrs. Cheery—"Indeed, he doesn't. He wanted to join one, but I just packed him off to France, where they don't have any thing worse than dueling clubs."—N Y. Weekly. —Western Populations. — Stranger (in Western city)—"I understood you claim 100,000 population for this town?" Directory Man—"Yes, sir. We have in the new directory, just being finished, 20,000 names. That multiplied by five, the average size of a family, makes 100,000. See?" Mes&enger Boy — "Please, sir, Mr. Hardtype want's to know how many copies of that directory 7ou want printed?" Directory Man (after some figuring)—"Um! I guess fifteen will be enough."—Good News. A FALSE ALARM. How a Womau's Wit Prevented a Great Panto. It was eleven o'clock at night, and I was going to my room in a Florida hotel, when a woman came out of her room, fully dressed, and asked: "Do you belong to the hotel?" "No, ma'am." '•Are there many people here tonight?" "It is crowded." "And it won't do to start a panic. Let me say quietly to you that the hotel is on fire. I have known it for ten minutes, but did not want to create an excitement." "Are you sure, ma'am?'* I asked. "Entirely sure, sir. I smelled the smoke while in bed. You go quietly down and tell the clerk, and I will knock on all the doors on this floor." She was wonderfully cool and collected, and I never thought of doubting her assertion. Going down by the staii'- way, I beckoned the clerk aside and told him of the fire. He went to the elevator with me and ascended to the third floor, where we found about twenty half-dressed people hi the hall. The woman who had given me orders came up and said: "Come this way. I don't think the fire has much of a start yet." We followed her to her room and be„ in to sniff and snuff. There was certainly a strong odor of something burning, but the clerk had taken only one sniff when he went out and rapped on the next door. "Hello!" called a voice. "Are you smoking?" "Yes." "Smoking Florida tobacco?" "Yes; what of it?" "Nothing. Ma'am, you can go back to bed. Much obliged 'to you for your sagacity and wit,but both were a little too keen this time. The stingy old fellow in that room is smoking swamp tobacco, and it always smells like a fire eating its way under a pine floor.—Detroit Free Press. The Bells of Moscow. Moscow had at one time over 1,700 large bells, and as many as 5,000 of all sizes. In the Ivan tower alone there are now thirty-four, one of which hi ihe first story above the chapel, weighs nore than sixty tons; it swings freely, s easily wrung, and if one smites it with the palm of the hand it responds in a wonderfully clear and startling manner. Two others are of solid silver, with very soft, clear tones. The great jell cast during the reign of Catherine has been consecrated as a chapel, the door being an aperture six feet high by seven wide at the base, made by the piece weighing eleven tons, which broke and fell out during the fire oi 1737, when water came in contact with the heated metal. This bell is twenty-, one feet high, twenty-one feet, si* inches in diameter, twenty-four inches thick, and weighs 433,000 poands ox something over 200 tons. Some authorities give the weigh t as 414,000 pounds or ?;}Q tons. It has bas-reliefs of tbq Emperor and Empress, the Saviour, the Virgin Mary and the evangelists. Aa- other bell about half as large required twenty-four men to ring it, and thi» was. fitope by pulling the clapper tf • <*<*% In New WAR REMINISCENCES. THE FLAG AT SHENANDOAH. *"he tented field wore a wrinkled frown, Ar;d the emptied church from the field looked down , On the emptied rood and the emp led town, That summer Sunday morning. And here was the blue, and there was thi Bray; And a wide green valley rolled away Between whore the battling armies lay, That snored Sunduy morning. And Custer sat, with impatient will, Hlg restless steed, 'mid his troopers still As he watched with glass from the oak-set hill That silent Sunday morning. Then fast, he begun to chafe and fret; "There's a battlu fla« on 11 bayonet Too close to my own true so'dlers set For peace this Su*day morning!" "Ride over, somn one," ho himphtllysaid. "And bring It to mo! Why, in bars blood red And in slurs I will stain H, and overhead Will flaunt it this Sunday morning!" Then a West-born lad, pale-faced and slim, Rodo out, and touching his cup to lilro, Swept down, as swift us the swallows swim, That anxious Sunday morning. On, on through the valleyl up. up, anywhere. That palo-fncod lad like a bird through the nir Kept on till he climbed to the banner there That bravest Sunday morn'tig I And he caught up the flag, and around bis waist He wound it tight, and he turned in haste, Anrt s win his perilous route retracad That during Sunday morning. All honor and praise to the trusty stecdl Ah! boy. and banner, and all God speed! God's pity for you in your hour of need Tnis deadly Sunday morning. O. deadly shot! and O, shower of lead! O, iron rain on thu brave, bare head I Why, even the leaves from the tree fall dead This dreadful Sunday morning! But he gains the oaks! Men cheer in their might! Brave Custer is weeping'in his delight! Why, he is embracing the boy outright This glorious Sunday morning! But soft I Not a word has Ihe pale boy said. Ho unwinds the flag. It is slurred, striped red With his heart's best blood; and be falls down dead, In God's still Sunday morning. Ho, wrap his flag to his soldier's breast; Into stars and stripes it is stained and blest; And under the oaks let him rest and rest Till God's great Sunday morning. —Jouciu.n Miller, in Classic Shades. THE STORY OF "OUR TOM.' How a Famous 'Fieia Piece of the War Was Kccaptured From the Enemy. Our brigade battery had one field piece which the boys came to know as "Our Tom." If you ask me why they gave it that title I shall ask you in return how it was that almost every thing connected with the troops at the front on either side, had a title of some sort. For instance, our Brigadier-General was known as "Old Lemons;" our Colonel was referred to as "Hurry Up," and our Captain was known as "Little Jim." We had a company dog who was called "Longitude," a certain mule known as "Vesuvius," and our company baggage wagon was referred to as "The Ark." "Our Tom" was no handsomer than any of the other guns, but he had a scar received in battle, and this distinguished and exalted him above the other five. We were raw troops when "Our Tom" came to us, and we looked upon his scar just as we would have looked upon one carried by a veteran soldier. We came to know where he got it, how well he fought that day, and whose lifeblood it was which spurted over the spokes of his right wheel and dyed them so red that they had to be washed in the waters of the creek. The battery boys were rather proud that we of the cavalry should "adopt" one of their guns, and when we would cheer "Our Tom" a» he passed us on the highway the artilleryists would return the compliment. Our first battle after he joined us was Brandy Station, and he was put in the battery and got to work a quarter of an hour before we did. A thousand men had their eyes on "Our Tom" as he began pitching shells across a broad plain into the woods on the far side. Every other gun was doing just as good work, but we had praise for only one. We cheered him as we saw a shell blow fragments of men and horses into the air, and when the Colonel rode along the line and indignantly ordered "silence in the ranks!" more than a hundred voices growled in reply; "We'll cheer 'Our Tom'and be hanged to you!" That was a hot fight at Brandy, ana at a certain stage of the game the gallant enemy moved a heavy squadron down upon the battery, which had been left almost.unsupported for the moment. Our regiment was half a mile away, having it hot and heavy, but when some one raised the cry that the boys in gray were after "Our Tom," there was a rush to save him. I don't know whether it was ordered or made without orders, but I do know that five companies broke oft with a left wheel, leaped their horses over a wide ditch, a.nd fell upon the gray squadron like a thunderbolt. We were all among the guns, and right at "Our Tom's" wheel I saw a brave Confederate trooper go down with his head split wide open from a saber stroke. We fought over him and around him, and we saved the battery, and when we came to examine "Our Tom" and found two fresh scare on him we swung our hats and cheered. At Shepardstown, while we were hastening forward towards Gettysburg, two pieces of our battery were cut off and captured. It was a coup on the part of a dashing squadron, and they had gone with the guns before we knew it. "Our Tom" was one of the pair, and when the news spread there was cursing and lamentation. A thousand men solemnly vowed to have that gun back if they had to leave a leg or ae arm on the field of battle. We had no show for it until the two armies confronted each other at Gettysburg. Then, as our brigade was skirmishing to feel Lee's wagon trains, a battery opened on us. At the first report of the first gun a hundred men stoo4 up in their stirrup,i and shouted: "Hurrah! boyo—that's 'Our Tom'call- ing k> us!" f an hour later we were for a charge, and the qxiery with man was: "Will It prove to bfe ottf>- gun?" We got the command and away •#* went with a yell, and five minutes later we wpr« at the guns. The Confederates nought to haul them off, and wewer* charged in turn, but when some onfr called out through the smoke-cloud that "Our Tom" was one of the guns, we'tl have held our ground if Longstreet had. flung his whole corps at us. Our gun Was there and with bxtllets flying 1 and sa» bers flashing, it was drawn off by hand and was well away before the buglett blew the recall. Every spoke in every wheel bore the marks of bullets, and the gun itself had been struck half •* dozen times. We gathered around it, and cheered and cheered again, though the capture had cost us fifty lives. "Our Tom" was with us in the Wilderness, at Petersburg and clear around to Sailor's Creek, and the last shell fired from his muzzle sent four or five men to their death. We had him with us at the grand review, but the next day he was missing. They said he had broken down and been hauled away for repairs. We hunted hither and yon, sent out committees with power to buy him of Undo Sam if he could be found, but- when too late we learned that he had been condemned and sold with the other metal to be melted up perhaps into plowshares.—Detroit Free Press. THE LAST BUGLE CALL, Affecting Memories Culled Up By th« Death of an Old Comrade. With martial tread and muffled drums a small band of gray and grizzled veterans bear away to the last camp ground, all that is mortal of a dead comrade. No band of brilliant uniform, no procession in brig-ht regalia leads the way to the grave, but an escort of old soldiers-, who bear upon their bronzed faces the insignia of war and upon then- bent forms the scars of battle. Who can fathom the thought of this little band of men as they march beside the, bier with slow and measured tread. A? thousand memories must come to them of the dark days long ago—of the long, long marches over the mountains? through the marshes, in the burning sun, in the blinding storm, the cheerless camp ground in the chill twilight, the shrill bugle call in the gray of early morning, the sharp command, the charge, the rattle of musketry, the sullen roar of cannon, the clash of arms, the pallid faces of the dead, the groans of the dying, and black smoke of battle hanging over all like a pall of death. No secret order that holds men together in any brotherhood can compare with the tie that binds the soldier to soldier. No initiation however startling can equal that through which the soldier has passed. His ordeal takes him across the field of carnage into the jaws of death, and every degree he takes is sealed in human blood. Lower the dead hero into his last resting place with gentle hands and let the cold clods fall softly on the bosom that once was bared to ihe enemy's bullets in defense of his country. Plant an ever- green on his grave, an emblem of immortality and place a stone at his head with an inscription that in the great hereafter will outweigh the epitaph of kings:—He was a Soldier.—J. H. Akert, in American Tribune. Sentiments of a Dying Soldier. At a public meeting in Boston, Mr. Gough said: "Not long ago I was in a hospital, and saw a young man twenty- six years of age, pale and emaciated, with his shattered arm resting upon a oil-silk pillow, and there had been, many long and weary weeks, waiting for SffiilliM* 1611 ^ 11 for an amputation!; ' ^.eif byhis side and said, "Will you answer me one question?" "Yes sir," was his reply. "Suppose then you were well, at home, hi good health, and knew all this would come to you, if you enlisted, would you enlist?" "Yes sir," he answered, in a whisper; "I would in a minute! What is my arm or my life compared with the safety of the country?" That was patriotism of the genuine brand.—Anecdotes of the Ee- bellion. SCRAPS FOR SOLDIERS. KENTUCKY has 165 posts, with a total membership of 6,800. Of this number eight posts, with 738 members, are lo- ted in the city of Louisville. AT almost every public place when eneral Sherman makes his appearance the band invariably strikes up "Marching Through Georgia," and the General recently remarked, while listening to the air for the millionth time, "I have often thought that when I was marching to the sea it would have been well had I marched on into it." AT the close of the fiscal year 1890 Ohio.had 57,087 pensioners; New York, 50,300; Pennsylvania, 49,578; Indiana, 47,798; Illinois, 89,948; Michigan, 26,853; Missouri, 28,749; Iowa, 83,189; Kansas, .32,331; Massachusetts, 21,897; Wisconsin, 18,788; Maine, 15,924, and Kentucky, 15,909. The number in none of the rest of the States come up to five figures. THE Commissioner of Pensions in his annual report recently issued, gives some interesting statistics of the Pension Bureau. Ihe number of soldiers who enlisted is given as 2,218,865. The number killed in battle and died of disease to July l, 1865 was 864,116. The number surviving July 1, 1890 was 1,346,089, and of this number 144,000 are now sixty-two years of age or upward, A MOST interesting relic, of the late war was exhumed a few days ago at Belmont, Mo., which confirms an ojd story as to the methods of warfare adopted by the Confederates in their operations on the Mississippi. Captain Burlingame, superintendent of the B&J,. mont, Mo., grain elevator, after considerable time and trouble, pulled pu$ of a sand bar near the elevator Qvey 100 feet of chain, which proved to fee §, portion of that used by the ates in spanning the river Columbus, Ky., acid Belmont, in tempt to blockade the riwar passage oi boats. 'The ,s»o fee*

Get full access with a Free Trial

Start Free Trial

What members have found on this page