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 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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COPYRIGHT BY 
 GEO. A. WALLACE, 
 
 APRIL, 1895. 
 
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FROM^ 
 
 TftPS TIIili REVEIliIiE. 
 
 BY (iEOKGE A. WALLACE. 
 
 Th, ln;i.r>< irnn, lln M nrl . 
 Ami in ll>, Jinli,lhr.< rmhhj (jh„r. 
 
 I'hr ij>n; in hr<irl shall nnrt . 
 If Ihril. ,r/n, xit in .^ih'nn thrrr. 
 ' Or'hnuih „rjrs, at npnrtn. 
 Will nnssan nhl fa n,iliar fan: 
 
 An'l hrratln <i pramr for nn: 
 
 ♦>'^^.* — >:• 9 -K — C^-^-^" 
 
 HOWIJNG GREEN, KV.; 
 
 FkOM Till-. PRKSS ..F THK PARK ClTV DAILV Tj-Ml 
 
 iU-^' 
 
T5 
 
 7.^ 
 
 
 Among the women of the world is one who 
 bears my name. I have, under the laws of mv 
 state and country, stolen the title that distin- 
 guished her before the theft was committed. 
 
 To Lucy, who loved me in prosperity and 
 stood by me in adversity, in whose arms Leona, 
 an artist's dream in flesh and blood, that Gotl 
 loaned us for .i* little while, fought with death, 
 in whose love I live, and on whose faith I rest, 
 this book is dedicated. 
 L(K'lsviLl.K, Kv., March, i!^g;. 
 
 m 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Grand Army of the Republic 
 
 PAGE. 
 DiCDICATION 
 
 Preface 
 
 From Taps Till Reveille 
 
 • 14 
 Lenihan's Ride 
 
 I Stood Alone 
 
 Grandpa Barnes " 
 
 Some Facts About Women "^ 
 
 P,n,, 35 
 
 The Massacre 
 
 40 
 
 42 
 
 Jess 
 
 Scold Her Every Day ■*' 
 
 Iron Bull, The Crow Chief ^ 
 
 Smoothing The Wrinkles Out .* 5^ 
 
 When The Daylight Conquers Night 54 
 
 Why One Drummer Fell 5 
 
 64 
 
 The Reunion 
 
 ,, ,, 67 
 
 Salute ^ouR Chief 
 
 The Poodle and the Noodle "9 
 
 Declaration of Principles 7' 
 
 The Modern Rule " 
 
 The Mother's Answer " ^ 
 
 Martyrdom and Monuments "9 
 
 Q-, 
 
 Mamie 
 
 JOS,K 't 
 
 Charley and Luella Make Up ^^ 
 
 Ethel and the Alligator ^^ 
 
 Before and After *5"^ 
 
 Some Famous Woman Suffragists 97 
 
 , . ,.„^ ,, 105 
 
 Charley s Appeal 
 
rOXTEXTS. 
 
 Some Christmas Thoughts About Giving 107 
 
 Robert and the Star 113 
 
 Gene 114 
 
 Some Famous Fat Women 116 
 
 How TO Behave at a Hotel 118 
 
 Fm Coming, Never Fear 123 
 
 Growing Old 125 
 
 The Little Maiden's Prayer 128 
 
 Business Rules 127 
 
 The Call 131 
 
 The Priest and The Mad Cap 133 
 
 Little Ben Tread 137 
 
 An Appeal for Abstinence 140 
 
 When Life's Last Battle Lost 147 
 
 An Old Story 148 
 
 Duncan— A Tale of '61 150 
 
 The Summer Girl 156 
 
 Grover • ■ 158 
 
 Be Sweetheart Vet to Me 161 
 
 In Dreams She Comes to Me 162 
 
 Woman's Rights 164 
 
 Pump or Drown 169 
 
 Behold the Man? 171 
 
 Fragments , 173 
 
 Charley's Girl Graduates 179 
 
 Charley's \'acati()n 182 
 
 What Charley Said 184 
 
 What the Angel Said 185 
 
 Some Sacred Mountains 187 
 
 Liberty and Development 188 
 
 Lutie's Lutle Banc; 192 
 
 Charley in the Shadows 193 
 
 How Jlmmie Went Home • .196 
 
'p)pcfae 
 
 c, 
 
 When my first booklet, " Songs Of A Weary Pilgrim," was 
 given to the public, to which I now submit " From Taps Till 
 Reveille," I did not expect it would receive so cordial a recep- 
 tion. As a wise father knows the imperfections of his children, 
 and knows that others know them, I recognize the defects 
 of my mental offspring, and know that others sec them. I 
 full}' appreciate the generous criticisms of those who find 
 some merit in what I have written. Competent critics ha\-e 
 passed judgment; and their endorsements are very dear to 
 me. Many intelligent people, with neither time nor inclina- 
 tion for continuous and \'aried reading, have derived pleas- 
 ure from my writings. We belong to different intellect- 
 ual worlds but I can say, without egotism, that I am like 
 Richter in one respect, I love God and little children. I 
 cherish, most of all, the approval of the embryonic men and 
 women who read and enjoyed and told me so. The uribought 
 love of a little child outweighs the friendship of a king; and 
 praise from its lips is sweeter than the gratulations of a prince. 
 I move in the ranks of those who bear the burdens and fight 
 the battles of the world — the common people, and do not pos- 
 
4 FROM TAI'S rif.L nKVElLl.i:. 
 
 .sess the culture of ;i tinislicd scholar. The; critics will 
 doubtless remember that I \oice the sentiments of a common 
 man. antl that 1 am not an aspirant for literar}- fame. It may 
 be that some, who will pass b\' the immc-irtal lines of master- 
 thinkers and sentence-l)uilders. will read m)- tleetiiif^ x'erses 
 and sketches and be happier and bettei' for doiuL^^ so. If what 
 I write helps and pleases those who reatl I shall Ije satisfied. 
 
 \\ hile artificial distinctions in societ}- are sometimes neces- 
 sar}', the}' are, almost without exception, the results of pride 
 and selfishness. There are wron<4"s to rit^ht; there are barriers 
 to break down; there are inequalities to remo\e; there are 
 factions to unite; there are prejudices to o\ercome. 
 
 Men and women are made for lo\e and service, and are 
 mutually dejoendent. The\' belong-, not only to home circles, 
 but to the masses, not only to the State, but to the world, and 
 an}- man who can add to the sum of human happiness is bound 
 to contribute. In ni}- limited sphere I ha\'e labored with tongue 
 and pen to unit}' people alienated b}- prejudice or on account 
 of se.v. I ha\"e fout^ht, in [)ublic antl in private, at^^ainst 
 those whose assumptions of superiorit}' are offensi\-e, whose 
 arl)itrary exercise of power and exclusixeness eml)itter the 
 li\'es of others and arouse [)opular discontent. 
 
 Kindred spirits ma}' tlnd somethins^" in " i^rom Taps Till 
 l\.e\eille" to cheer them in their efforts to l)ring' lii^ht to those 
 w ho sit in darkness and jo}' to those whose cups of sorrow are 
 overrtowinLT. 
 
F/;nM I'AI'S TILL IIFAIULLF. 
 
 Ihc war is oxer and w.e have an indissoluble union which 
 thouohtful men pronounce the crownino- miracle of modern 
 times. Men who are lo\al, and women who are patriotic, should 
 forg'et as rapidly as possible the sectional differences that pre- 
 cipitated tlie war between the States, and unite their prayers, 
 their influence, and their efforts, ac^ainst the forces that 
 threaten our national life. 
 
 The title of this book is militar}-. I wore the blue and 
 ha\e no ajiologies to offer for so doing, Ijut recognize the 
 sterling qualities of mj^ kinsman who wore the gra)'. I would 
 not, if I could, sa\' an}'thing to array tlie men who marched to 
 the music of the Laiion against those who threw contesting 
 battle lines before their advancing columns. Vital questions 
 were submitted to the people and decided by the arbitrament 
 of war. The decision is generally accepted as final and satis- 
 factor\'. The rightness or wrongness of the men who fought 
 for or against the I'nion is not discussed in these pages. We, 
 in whose faxor the decision was made, have no doubt about 
 the justness of our cause, Init we are not unmindful that those 
 who opposed us, whether the)' were right or wrong, were brave 
 and generous, conscientious and self-sacrificing. We, while 
 holding iiu'iolate the principles for which we fought, are dis- 
 posed to forget the past with its chambers of horrors, full of 
 tears, and sighs, and dead men's bones, and to unite w ith them 
 in perpetuating the re])ublic and defending it against internal 
 and external foes; to stand on the vantaee ground of the 
 
FIIOM TA/'S TILL l! F.V L:I LLll. 
 
 present and look forward, where lo\'e signals, and not back- 
 ward, where hate beckons. 
 
 Durint;- the winter of 1S67. in the depths of the mountains, 
 be\ond the boundaries of civilization, a detail from my regi- 
 ment and some teamsters and prospectors gathered around 
 the same camp fires. .Some of the soldiers had served in 
 the regular army from the beginning of the ci\il war until its 
 close, and still wore its uniform. Some of the citizens had 
 fought with thfc Confederate army from the bombardment of 
 Fort .Sumpter imtil its standards were lowered at Appomattox. 
 We had no quarrels, no recriminations, no misunderstandings; 
 we were welded together b}' common dangers and common 
 sufferings ; were surrounded l)y lynx-e)'etl enemies and 
 exposed to the pitiless fur\^ of chilling winds and blinding 
 storms, and our safety anci comfort depended upon unit}' of 
 thought, i)urpose, and action. Like causes demand that a 
 similar sentiment i)re\ail, and from the Atlantic to the I'acific, 
 and from the Lakes to the Gulf. As fellow citizens we ha\e 
 mutual interests and mutual dangers, and should be united 
 against our mutual foes. 
 
 It is impossible for all men to thiid< and believe alike, and, 
 recognizing this fact, we should grant to others the rights that 
 we so strenuously insist upon for ourselves. The success of 
 one is the success of all. The failure of one is the failure of 
 all. We are to determine whether a "government of the peo- 
 ple, by the people, and for the people," is possible. The 
 
FA'O.l/ 7M/'.s TILL liFA'EILi.E. 
 
 rcsponsibilit}- is on us and \vc cannot shift it. The present, 
 and n(jt the past, requires our I^est thou;^"hts. and our actions 
 now will determine the future of the Nation and of the indi- 
 viduals composing it. 
 
 Those who reap in peace where others sowed in war should 
 not forget the men whose fame has girdled the globe- -the 
 grizzled veterans, who are patiently waiting for taps to sound. 
 Their ranks are thinning fast and in a little while the earth, 
 like a gentle mother, will carr\' in her bosom the last of the 
 \-olunteers. In the soil their blood enriches will lie side by 
 side the sons of Puritans and caxaliers until reveille is sounded 
 from heavenly hills and the\- pass out of sleep into life eternal, 
 
 "Where the war drum throbs no longer, 
 And the l:>attle tlao-s are furled." 
 
 
F/.'O.U TAPS TILL T?EVELLLE. 
 
 prom fpaps fpill ^qOqWIq. 
 
 W'c iirc rcsliiiL;- now; the fiL,^ht is over and soldiers <^rather 
 around the camp fires and discuss the da\- that has been o\-er- 
 full of dangers and hartlships. Not all who answered the call 
 to arms in the earU' morning are in the groujos that wait for 
 taps to sound. Some, who rode with us into the ranks of the 
 enem}-. lie scalped and mangled in the rax'ines and on the 
 mountain side, where they went down before the merciless 
 .Sioux. The ca\'otes' shaip Ijark and the wolves' hoarse howl 
 beget horror and chill the blood of men who fronted death 
 with smiling faces a few hours before. We know, that before 
 we can gi\;e them decent burial, the mutilated bodies of our 
 dead comrades will be torn into fragments b)- raxenous beasts 
 that are, e\en now, fighting oxer them. To-morrow will dawn 
 but not for them. The}- ha\e seen their last sunrise and 
 heard their last roll-call on earth. We will watch a new dax' 
 come from the East and think- of their scattered bones that its 
 sun will warm ami its night will chill. Men who face danger 
 withcjut displaxing an_\- signs of fear stand aghast when the 
 skeletons of their lo\ed and honored tlead pass before them. 
 Though night has fallen, and the\' are far awa\', we can see 
 them as distiucll\- as if ihe sun were shining and we were 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 standing where they fell: — Imagination is not fettered by night. 
 
 * * * -;ic- * * * 
 
 Taps, the drum-throbs, die a\va}\ Fires are extinguished, 
 lights are out, voices arc hushed. Men who march must 
 rest, and men who fight must sleep. The awful stillness is 
 oppressive and almost unbroken. As we lie in silence we hear 
 nothing but the rhythmic footfalls of the wild beasts that prowl 
 around the camp and call to each other; the measured tread 
 of the sleepless guards as the}- pace to and fro, and the sent- 
 ries calling the hours. 
 
 The old campaigners, who have fought under many flags, 
 in many countries, are asleep on their arms; but sleep comes 
 not to a young soldier. In the earh' watches of the night he 
 lies like one in a trance. Long after the sentinels have called 
 the mitlnight hour he is awake and thinking o\er the exents of 
 the day. He, a slender, brown-haired boy of si.vtecn, enlisted 
 more than a \-ear before, has passed through his first baptism 
 of fire. The excitement of the conflict no longer sustains, and 
 conscience troubles and fears haunt him. We had run into 
 an ambuscade and had fought with the \alor of desperation 
 against fearful odds. In the running fight that followed his 
 horse stoi)ped suddenly and he found himself face to face 
 with a mounted warrior who chantetl his war song as he placed 
 an arrow against his bow string, and while he was bringing it to 
 a level with his breast, bo\' as he was, he saw the importance of 
 immediate action, and lowerinu' his ritle fired before the arrow 
 
10 FROM TA/'S TILL HKVKn.LK. 
 
 sped. The shot went home and the warrior fell from his pony. 
 He was glad that he had escaped with his life and the duel 
 was over, but somehow the dead man drove sleep away and 
 brought fears to torment him. Glittering, bead-like eyes 
 peered at him out of the darkness, and a cruel, malignant face 
 touched his own as he lay under his blankets and heard, over 
 and over again, the song tliat leaped from the throat of the 
 falling warrior, that would never sing again. His thoughts 
 turned eastward, and memory reproduced an old farm house 
 in which he was born and where he lived in peace with those 
 who loved him. He thought, too, of the hours that he had 
 spent by his mother's knee reading in her big lettered I^ible. 
 He recalled some passages that troubled him. " Thou shalt 
 not kill," the book said, and a man lay dead on the mountain 
 side slain b)' his own hand. "Whoso sheddeth man's blood 
 by man shall his blood be shed," it declared, it seemed to him, 
 in tones of thunder. Was he a murderer? Would savage men 
 avenge? He was dazed and could not answer. One thing he 
 knew the blood of a man was on him and he could not shake 
 it off. His hands were red with blood and he could hear it 
 drip, drip, drip, from his finger tips. How could he. if the 
 avenger should come and take life for life, stand in judgment 
 before one who died for his enemies? Would the avenger 
 come, and when? W'ould he come that night? He thought 
 of a gray-haired sire and a sweet-faced mother counting the 
 slowly passing days and waiting for a runaway's return. Would 
 
FIIOM TAI'S TILL IIFA'KILLK. 
 
 he ever return? Would he ever see them again, and place 
 his bloody hands on their snowy heads? He thought, too, of 
 the warrior lying on the mountain side, where he fell, battling 
 against the enemies of his race, with his face turned upward so 
 that God and the avenger of blood could see it, and of those 
 who would watch and wait in vain for his home coming. 
 
 If he could have returned life, as he had taken it, he would 
 have breathed it into the prostrate form of his dead foeman 
 and sent him unharmed to the squaw that loved him. in her 
 savage way, and the little i)appooses that played about his 
 wigwam. He would have gladdened the heart of an old chief, 
 who rode no more with his tribe, and an old woman whose 
 race was almost run, by bringing to life the stalwart son in 
 whom their loves and hopes centered. He thought— but sleep 
 came at last, and after sleep came reveille. In the morning 
 he was free from fear and his conscience was at rest. While 
 he slept, God wrought. Although he felt that .-:elf-preserva- 
 tion was the first law of ^nature, and that he was guiltless, he 
 prayed that war might pass away and peace reign undisturbed 
 
 forever. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The few veterans of the civil war that remain have made 
 their last march and fought their last battle. Their swords 
 are sheathed, their flags are furled, their arms are stacked. 
 They are growing old and are waiting for taps to sound, know- 
 ing that after taps comes sleep, and after sleep reveille. They 
 
FROM TAJ'S TJf/L liEVFALLE. 
 
 belie\'e in immortalit\-, that after the night of death comes the 
 morning of resurrection. As the}- wait, they talk about their 
 marches and counter-marches, their \ictories and defeats, of 
 the men who marched, and bixouacked, and fought with them, 
 and their faded qvcs, brigiiten as they recall the historic fields 
 their heroism made immortal. In softer tones the\' s|)eak of 
 those who fell out of ranks — -whose generous deeds are unfor- 
 gotten and whose bones hallow the soil that hides them from 
 human siuht. 
 
 Taps, an invisible drum, is throbbing now. Old men who 
 answered "here," when the\' heard the call for volunteers in 
 sixty-one hear and understand. Lights are out, fires are 
 extinguished, voices are hushed. The heroes .of the republic 
 are entering into their last sleep. The\' are not sinless, these 
 \'eterans of Manassas, and Shiloh, and Cold Harbor. They 
 are few and feeble, but faith abides and courage remains, and 
 they are not afraid. The voice of duty is the voice of God. 
 When it called the}' answered, and He will remember. They 
 felt the uplifting power of great principles and offered them- 
 sel\-es as sacrifices on the altars of their country. They are 
 not withou.t regret, for " war is barbarism and you can't refine 
 it," said one who led his conquering army from Atlanta to the 
 sea, and their li\'es on tented fields and battle plains were not 
 stainless, but they fought, and suffered, and left the conse- 
 
FROM TM'S TILL LKVEILLE. V.\ 
 
 quences with God — the only being to whom they bend the 
 "supple hinges of the knee." They are worn, and withered, 
 and bent, and some are battle scarred. Whether they fought 
 with Grant or Lee, with Sheridan or Forrest, with Farragut or 
 Semmes, they are proud of the past made glorious by their 
 courage and constancy. The)- settled questions that disturbed 
 a Nation's peace and threatened a Nation's life. Some were 
 wrong, no doubt, but the}- were brave. The laurel and the 
 bay are for the brows of men who place their lives in peril for 
 a principle, and suffer for conscience sake Oncoming genera- 
 tions will make due allowance for biased judgments and sec- 
 tional prejudices, and crown all who dared and suffered, 
 whether the)- won or lost. 
 
 They are strangel)- uniformed, who lie in the darkness wait- 
 ing for sleep to come. Some are in citizens' clothes, some 
 wear blue blouses from Gettysburg, some wear grey coats 
 from Appomattox, and some (be it said to the everlasting 
 shame of an ungrateful people), are clothed in rags, 
 
 # * * * -* -* * 
 
 Sleep conquers the last of the volunteers. The drama is 
 finished and the curtain falls. It will rise again when God's 
 buglers sound reveille and the mighty host rises, rank on rank, 
 to salute the Prince of Peace, and there breaks over earth, and 
 sea, and skv, the eternal morning. 
 
FliOM TAI'S Tll.L l!i:\'i:iLLK 
 
 l9enil7an's I^ide. 
 
 Lenihan, a comrade of mine in the T\vent}--.se\enth United 
 States Infant!-}' and the Indian war of '66 and '67, in tiie Big 
 Horn countr}-, was a handsome young fellow with man\' graces 
 of mind and bod}% although he came from the slums of New 
 York. He was intelligent but illiterate. I have sometimes 
 thought that the ride he made from the hay fields to Fort C. F. 
 Smith, which was a race for life from the starting point until 
 he approached the fort, was one of the most daring ever made 
 voluntarily, and worth}- of honorable mention. The soldiers 
 and teamsters in the hay field made a gallant fight against 
 overwhelming odds and would have been massacred if rein- 
 forcements, brought through Lcnihan's ride, had not reached 
 them before night fully fell. 
 
 By the Big Horn's sullen flow, 
 Where the Indians hunt and row, . 
 .Soldiers t^aiard the gathered hay; 
 (Quickly, as the lightnings flash. 
 
FIIOM TAPS TILL REVFALLL:. 
 
 At the guards red warriors dash, 
 Hurling death, one autumn day. 
 
 Ride, Lenihan, ride! Tlie Sioux's war song, 
 From savage throats swells fierce and strong, 
 
 As they ritle on unmoved by fear, 
 While flows the hated white man's blood, 
 And falls the sunset's golden flood, 
 
 They chant their death song loud and clear. 
 
 Ride, Lenihan, ridel Brave men at duty's jiosts. 
 Fight face to face with ])ead-eyed hosts, 
 
 That swiftly charge and (|uickly disappear. 
 Then come again with harsh, resounding cry. 
 That chills hot blood, while fallen watchers die. 
 
 And brings to swarthy cheeks the hues of fear. 
 
 Ride, Lenihan, ride ! The ranks are thinning fast, 
 And some sleej) on though calls the bugle blast, 
 
 And night and death are drawing nigh; 
 On snowy peaks the yellow sun hangs low. 
 While shadows gather on the plains below, 
 
 Where wandering night winds soon will sigh. 
 
 Ride, Lenihan, ridel If falls a starless night, 
 Red, sinewy forms, in its uncertain light. 
 
 Will glide like serpents o'er the broken wall. 
 
FROyr TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 That shelters men from love and home away, 
 For whom will never break an earthly day, 
 Above the broodin<' mountains bald anti tall. 
 
 An Irish boy uncrowned by wealth or lame, 
 Sat like a yod the steed with eyes atiame, 
 
 That bore him safely on a winding way, 
 With sure, untiring- feet and lightning speed. 
 As if he knew the soldiers' pressing need, 
 
 Who held, unhelped, the swarming Sioux at bay. 
 
 From river's brink and yawning, dark ravine. 
 Moved chanting on, with hideous garb and mien, 
 
 The matchless riders of a fearless race, 
 To intersect where woodlanil yields to plain, 
 They urge their steeds with stinging spur and rein 
 
 While passion plows each cruel, crafty face. 
 
 To the same place, where woodland yields to plain, 
 He gallops on and looks not back again, 
 
 Beyond that point the old fort lifts its walls. 
 Above the clang of hoofs on earth and rock. 
 And cries of men, who join in battle shock. 
 
 He hears his comrades ringing calls. 
 
 Unharmed he rides, though arrows cleave the air 
 That fans his cheek and rifts his flowing hair. 
 And leaves behind the vengeful sons of hate; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLi:. 
 
 Where dark walls frown he sees a flag afloat, 
 
 And hears through guarded gate a bugle note, 
 
 Yet faster rides lest he should be too late. 
 
 On snowy peaks tlie yellow sun liung low, 
 Wliile shadows gathered on tlie plain below, 
 
 ( )n river's l)reast and rock-strewn mountain side, 
 When troopers came, where men crouched low. 
 To drive away their fast triumphing foe, 
 
 And backward turn the battle's moving tide. 
 
 In border legends of the brave, 
 Live the boy who rode to save, 
 
 On that fateful autumn day; 
 Live the messenger that brought 
 tleip to hopeless men who fought, 
 
 While relief was far awav. 
 
 ^^ 
 
FROM TAPS TILL UEVFALLK. 
 
 §1-ood oAlon^. 
 
 We stood alone and watched the gleaming sun 
 
 Sink in its fleecy bed of blue and gold, 
 And felt a blended life had just begun, 
 
 Whose wealth of joy could not be told. 
 About my yielding neck were fast entwined 
 
 Her shapely arms, as white as mountain snow, 
 And to my breast, where purest love was shrined 
 
 I pressed her golden head, long, long ago. 
 
 We stood alone till darkness veiled the land. 
 
 And lowering clouds obscured the leaden sky. 
 Hut in the gloom she pressed my brawny hand, 
 
 As if to say, "Why, sweetheart, you are nigh. 
 On you, so true and strong, I'll ever call, 
 
 When danger looms and skies are overcast; 
 We're partners now, and you, so brave and tall, 
 
 W'ili shelter nic till dangers all are past." 
 
 We stood alone outside the door ajar. 
 One sultry, starlit night in leafy June, 
 
 And talked of surging hosts on fields afar. 
 Where men must struggle hard and soon. 
 
FROM TA1'.S TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 I, too, had heard the trumpet's angry cry, 
 Had caught the rhythmic sound of marching feet. 
 
 And must leave her, with courage bounding high, 
 To fight on fields where hostile armies meet. 
 
 W'c stood alone until tlie trumpet's peal. 
 
 Borne clear and strong upon the midnight air, 
 Called me to go, come woe or weal. 
 
 From all that made my young life fair. 
 She pressed her ripe, red lips to mine, 
 
 Held my bronzed cheeks in her white hands, 
 Then bade me go join the waiting line 
 
 And march to war with freedom's moving bands. 
 
 1 lay alone on many a crimsoned field, 
 
 Whose furrows, overfull of human blood. 
 Bespoke the stubborn foes that would not yieUl, 
 
 Until their blood run like a raging flood. 
 Full long I lay among the gallant dead. 
 
 And heard the wailing cries of stricken men. 
 Who made the pitying earth their dying bed. 
 
 Afar from homes they would not see again. 
 
 I lay alone on blood red fields afar 
 
 From her whose love enriched my lonely life, 
 Who stood without our cottage door ajar 
 
 And bade me go into the deadlv strife. 
 
I'ltOM TM'S TILL nFAKILLK 
 
 I l)ravely fouji;"ht for home and nati\c land, 
 Till victory came and battle flags were furled. 
 
 Till God held back war's vengeful hand 
 And sent His peace into a battlint^ world. 
 
 I stood alone outside the door ajar, 
 
 One sultry, starlit night in leafy June, 
 And called to her: Come, see my battle scar; 
 
 Come sing with me some old war tune. 
 Vou heard, with me, the trumpet's angry cry, 
 
 And caught the rhythmic sound of marching feet, 
 Vou sent me forth, with courage bounding high, 
 
 To fight on fields where liostile armies meet. 
 
 I stood alone while light that softly strayed 
 
 Above her door fought shadows in the hall, 
 I gently called, lest she should be afraid, 
 
 And smiling, waited for her answering call. 
 It never came -enwrapped in robes of snow, 
 
 She, whom I called, lay in untroubled sleep. 
 How could she hear my pleading call so low, 
 
 Or see mc bend my aching head and weep? 
 
 I stood alone within the little room. 
 Her dear, dead hands had fashioned into life, 
 
 With her who fought amidst the gathering gloom. 
 With none to help in the unequal strife. 
 
IliOM TAPS TILL nEVFJLLE. 
 
 Whose pilj^rim feet had touched a peaceful land 
 And trod its sunny paths with faultless grace, 
 
 Somehow, I felt, she blessed the mangled hand 
 That lingered on her pallid, upturned face. 
 
FROM TAI'S TILJ. liEVElLJ.E 
 
 (SrandtDa ISarr\es. 
 
 Grandpa Barnes sat under a spreading maple one summer 
 afternoon with half shut eyes and compressed lips, scarcely 
 conscious of his surroundings. Me was li\ing in the past, and 
 memory was reproducing the sights and scenes of its hallowed 
 years. He had been a man of commanding presence in his 
 prime, and in his decline looked like a hercules in ruins. His 
 massive brow was crowned with snow}' hair that was once, 
 like his shaggy eyebrows, as black as a raven's wing. 
 His broad back, that had borne burdens for more than 
 an ordinar}- life time, was bent b\- age, and his thin, white 
 hands were folded on his bosom. He was alone. Within 
 calling distance merry children were playing and older people 
 were attending to their affairs or exchanging the courtesies 
 and gossip of the day, but the}' were not in his thoughts. 
 He was an alien, in the world but not of it, a stranger in a 
 strange land. The hurrx'ing throngs on the public streets 
 and the little crowds that gathered under the shadow of his 
 ancestral home were as strangers to him and sj)oke in unknown 
 tongues. The little children who sat around his table and 
 about his fireside lived in the future and knew nothin"' of the 
 
FROM TAPS TILL HEVFJLLE 
 
 precious world in which he dwelt -the shadowless past. Their 
 elders lived in the present and their language was meaningless 
 to him. There was between him and them an imj^assable gulf 
 over which neither could come nor go. Lallie.the onh" woman 
 he had ever loved Lai, he called her, in the dear old daws 
 when she answered back ever}' time he called — was dead. For 
 a score of winters the snow had blanketed her narrow bed 
 under the pines, and for as many summers the birds had sung 
 in the rose tree that shed its fragance and lifted its crimson 
 head above her grave. He thought of her and recalled, 
 one after another, the events that rounded out their lives, Init 
 thought most tenderh" of the time when he sat, with aching- 
 heart and throbbing temples and tear-dimmed e)'es beside the 
 bed from which she was borne away forever; of the words of 
 faith and tenderness that came from dying lips, and how, when 
 she could not speak, she fixed her gaze on him and placed her 
 hand on his bowed head as if to proclaim by look and touch a 
 loxe that was stronger than death. 
 
 Grandpa had been a soldier, and no bra\'er man e\-cr led a 
 charge or resisted an advance. On a hotly contested field he 
 had snatched a flag from a falling standard bearer, planted it 
 within the enemies' lines and rallied his comrades about it. 
 The broken sword and tarnished epaulettes in the big cedar 
 trunk, in his upper room, were fairly earned and worthil\- 
 worn. The men who touched elbows with him, when martial 
 hosts were gathering, and marched under the same battle 
 
24 FROM TAPS TILL IlEVKLLLE. 
 
 flags had passed out of ranks. The\- had heard an invisible 
 captain calling their names, and like soldiers who were never 
 absent when the roll was called, had answered " Here." 
 
 He thought of them and, as he thought, the cords wo\en 
 on bixouacs and battle-fields bound them closer together. 
 The pioneer parson, who went to his appointment with a rilTe 
 in one hand and a Bible in the other, had gone to join the 
 silent majority. The parson had heard the vows when he and 
 Lallie were married, and had kissed, once only, the lips that 
 ever afterward belonged to him. He and the parson were 
 good friends for more than half a centur}'. The\' sle])t many 
 times under the same roof and worked " In His Name" before 
 the parson had heard a voice saying: "Vour work is done; 
 come up higher!" 
 
 \'es, he thought of the parson, as he sat under the shelter- 
 ing maple, and of his first born, who went into battle and 
 never came out again, who found a grave with the unknown, 
 on the field where the\- bowed to death and will sleep in peace 
 until re\eille is sounded by God's trumpeters and the}' awake 
 in a warless world. He firmly believes that they, like enchant- 
 ed warriors, are bountl for a season; but someday, escaping 
 from the power that holds them, will pass from dreamless sleep 
 into unfailing life and live forever. Grandpa was almost 
 asleep. He was wear\', oh. so w ear\-, and God sent sleep, 
 sometimes when the sun was shining, to gi\e him strength for 
 the morrow. He needed rest and comradeship and pra)X'd 
 
FIIOM TAJ'S TJLI. liFAKIl.LK. 
 
 that his pili];-riniai^e,amoii<;- those who did not li\e in his world, 
 niii^ht be short. 
 
 Somehow he felt that his force was spent and that he was in 
 the wa\' of N'ouni^er people who could not understand, and did 
 not lo\e him, like Lallie and the parson did. Voy four score 
 years he hid been a ]nl^rim with his face set toward Jerusa- 
 lem. As he mo\ed from milestone to milestone his j)ath was 
 often obscured, and sometimes hidden b\- hjwering clouds, but 
 faith pierced them and he pressed on, guided by the beckon- 
 im;, imdimmetl lig^hts of the eternal cit}' which t^rew stron<^er 
 and brighter as he neared the mysterious line where the biu'- 
 dens of life roll off and age takes on perpetual youth. 
 
 Grandpa was nexer hopeless or des[)airing. When he was a 
 little bo}' his mother gave him a Bible for a Christmas gift, 
 which he read xery carefulU'. I le coukl not understand ever}'- 
 thing in it, but he thought a great deal about the promises, and 
 when he was a man, whether in the depths or on the heights, 
 he belie\ed in and rested on them. 
 
 Grandpa fell asleep and his chin rested heavih' upon his 
 breast, while his head rolled uneasil}' from side to side. A fair 
 young girl, forsaking her companions on the pla\' ground, ran 
 to him and gentl\- awakened him from his slumbers. .She sat 
 lightly upon his trembling knees; and as she plowed his snowy 
 hair with her slender fingers, called him a laz\', old rascal 
 told him to wake up and be sociable while she was around, and 
 when he smiled she threw her arms around his \ielding neck. 
 
FROM TAPS TILT. REVEILLE. 
 
 pillowed her sunny head upon his bosom, and kissini^ his 
 bloodless lips again and again, called him her dear, naught}- 
 old grandpa. Grand[)a was transformed. His face was lumin- 
 ous, and his eyes borrowed a light that was not of earth. God's 
 promises are sure. He had lost much, but love was left and 
 love is heaven. Grandpa must wait awhile, but not long, for 
 the tide which carried him out is ebbing now. Some day 
 heaven will open to receive him, and one will come to guide 
 him through chilly waters across its shining portals, and in 
 that far-off land, untouched by sorrow and unclouded by care, 
 Lallie and the parson with his comrades who so promptly 
 answered " here" when their names were called, and the boy 
 who made his grax'e with the unknown, will bid him good morn- 
 ing. The)' will look earthward and talk, I doubt not, as the}' 
 walk on streets of gold and beside cr}'stal waters of the fair 
 }'oung girl who brought the smiles to grandpa's face one 
 summer afternoon. 
 
 ^:h 
 
FUOM TAJ'S TILL liKVEILLE. 
 
 §omG Pacts aAboat (/9omen. 
 
 While I have al\va\-s advocated the rights of women and 
 expect to do so until ni}' lips are scaled by one who silences 
 whom He will, I regret to see a tendencx- among some of our 
 modern advocates of ecjual rights to malign the Christian 
 church. With all its faults and its inabilit)' or unwillingness 
 to recognize and act upon the broad principles laid down b\- 
 its founder, it has been, in past ages, and is now, the friend of 
 women and has done more to exalt them than any other 
 organization on earth. While the church, theoretically and 
 practically, places women in a subordinate position and denies 
 them the equality to which they are clearly entitled, christ- 
 ian men are adopting more liberal views about women, and con- 
 tinualU' adding to their rights and enlarging their privileges, 
 and the time will come in which the church will be what 
 Jesus Christ intended it should be— a pure republic. 
 
 .Sacred and profane histor\' establish the fact that the man 
 of Galilee was the unwavering friend of women when he 
 was upon the earth, and tradition adds its testimon\- to the 
 same fact. 
 
I'liOM TM'S TILL nLVLILLK. 
 
 I can understand how a sensualist, who re^^ards sensual 
 pleasure as the chief end of life, and, regarding women as 
 pleasure producers craxes unlimited power over them, can 
 speak contemptuously of Him and the s\-stem of religion He 
 came to establish; but I cannot understand how any enlight- 
 ened woman, who knows how many blessings He brought to 
 her sex, when it was degraded, can do so. The man who 
 talked with the woman at the well and wrote in the sand was 
 the avowed enem}' of the social system which made the unre- 
 strained sensualist a possibility, and I am not surprised when 
 I hear him taking up the cry started in the streets of Jerusalem 
 nineteen centuries ago, "Away with Him," "Crucify Him," 
 "Crucify Him." 
 
 I gi\e below some facts concerning the condition of women 
 in lands where the influence of Christianity was not felt that I 
 ha\e gathered from \'arious authentic sources: 
 
 I'nder the Roman law, w hich underlies and is embodied in 
 our modern laws, the women were always discriminated against, 
 not excepting the period when free marriages were allowed. 
 The father was the center of authorit}' in the famil}-. The 
 mother had no e.xclusixe authority oxer her own children. 
 The husband had absolute confrol ox'cr his wife's propert}'. 
 B}- marriage a woman lost her famil\' rights and could 
 bequeath nothing to her relatixes. She was consideretl a sister 
 to her own children and the adopted daughter of her husband, 
 who had ox'er her the power of life and death, (iaius imputed 
 
/•V.'O.l/ T.II'S TILL ni'.VEILLE. 2!) 
 
 to woman " levity of mind"; Cicero "infirmity of purpose," and 
 Seneca characterized her as "a foolish, wild creature, incapa- 
 ble of self control." 
 
 B\' the old Teutonic Tribes she was assigned a secondar\- 
 place. A husband could be an absolute t\'rant and could put 
 out the eyes and break the limbs of his wife. A wife was 
 purchased like any other piece of property b}' a husband who 
 had the unquestioned right to sell, punish or kill her. 
 
 Among the Greeks women were perpetual infants, and a 
 public woman, however talented, was considered immoral. 
 
 In japan her condition was but little better, and in China 
 and India it was worse. Confucius pronounced a woman no 
 better than a slave, and hard to manage. He said: "Ten 
 daughters do not equal one son. When she is }'oung she 
 must obe}' her father or elder brother, when married she must 
 obey the husband, when a widow she must obey her son; she 
 must not come to any conclusion of her own deliberation." 
 While in China \-ou couldn't bu)' a bo\' at an}' price you could 
 bu\' a girl for a dime. Girl babies were slaughtered by thous- 
 ands because the}' were not wanted and were regarded as 
 curses rather than blessings. 
 
 Budtlha, who believed in the transmigration of souls held 
 out one hope to woman — one onl}- the possibilit\- that she 
 might sometime or other become a man. The Brahmin 
 would not permit a woman to read the Veda. .She nas con- 
 sidered soulless without a man. .She was commanded to obey 
 
;50 FllOM TAJ'S TILL liKVFJLLE. 
 
 her husband without questioning, when he was living, and 
 to be burned on his funeral pyre when he was dead. 
 
 ]\Ioliammed treated women with contempt. When a son 
 was born to a Moslem his friends congratulated him, when a 
 daughter came the}- consoled him the best they could. The 
 Arab sayings, " trust neither a king, nor a horse, ijor a woman," 
 and that "women are whips of the de\'il" are not meaningless. 
 In the beginning of the race the struggle for existence was 
 terrific, and physical strength was esteemed the most valuable 
 possession. Women being ph\'sically weak had to be pro- 
 tected and were classed with children and despised accord- 
 ingly. The)' were good for nothing in particular but to act as 
 servants, bear children and gratify the lusts of men. 
 
 The qualities which distinguish refined womanhood now 
 were then unrevealed, or if revealed were imappreciated by 
 men who acknowledged the reign of lust and felt the greed of 
 power. A man's wife was his slave without any rights that he 
 was bound to respect. Tennyson apth' expresses the relation 
 a wife of that day sustained to her husband after the marriage 
 was full}' consummated: 
 
 "He shall hold thee wjien liis passicjn shall have spent its novel force, 
 Somethincr better than his doi,^ a little dearer than his horse." 
 
 China boasts of a ci\'ilization as old as the race. In that 
 country women were counted inferior to men in cx'ery way. 
 Confucius taught that the female se.x was created for the con- 
 venience of the male. Pol)'gamy was practiced. A man's 
 
FHOM TAJ'S TILL UFA' TULLE. '6\ 
 
 first wife was usually chosen from a family of equal rank. The 
 inferior wives were usually purchased. Marital unfaithfulness 
 was recog.nizeci as a sin only on the part of a wife, and a hus- 
 band had the right to kill a wife who committed adulter}-. 
 He, however treacherous he may have been, did not commit 
 adultery except with a married woman, when some other man's 
 possession was interfered with. 
 
 In Japan a man could ordinarily have but one wife but as 
 many concubines as he desired. Although Japanese women 
 were essentialh' low in the social scale the}' were more fortu- 
 nate than their sisters in man}- other barbarous or imchristian 
 nations. Women were regarded as inferior by Buddhists and 
 Brahmins alike, and lightly esteemed. Says the Hetopadera: 
 "A woman is chaste when there is neither place, time nor 
 person to afford her an opportunit}' to be immoral." 
 A poem widely cjuoted in Ceylon sa}-s: 
 I've seen the adum'Dra tree in flower, wiiite plumage on the crow, 
 And fishes footsteps in the tleep have traced through el^h and How. 
 If man it is who thus asserts his word you may beheve, 
 But all that woman says distrust, she speaks hut to deceive. 
 
 Mrs. DiUTo}' says: In (Oriental cotmtries and among Mo- 
 hammedans particularl}-, women are recognized as haxing 
 been created but for one purpose to gratify sensual passion, 
 and as presenting but one predominant attribute, that of sen- 
 SLialit}'. Among the wandering tribes of Central, Western and 
 Northern Asia a wife was generall}- regarded as a thinjj \nw- 
 
FliOM TAPS Til J. nilVEILLi: 
 
 chased and the property of her husband. Pol3'gann- was not 
 exceptional. '.Submission on the part of the wife was s}-ni- 
 bolized in some way when the nuptials were celebrated. 
 
 One tribe required the bride to pull off her husband's 
 boots as a si<jjn of servitude. In another tribe the girl's father 
 gave the husband a whip and directed him to use it freely on 
 his wife. In another nation the bride was brought to the [)ros- 
 pective husband with the words, "Here, wolf, take thy lamb. ' 
 
 Some of the Bedouin women were ver\- modest; in fact, with 
 them modest}' was regarded as the finest grace of the sex It 
 is said that the bride was sometimes so co\' that her husband 
 was obliged to tie her up and whip her before she would }'ield 
 to him. 
 
 Among the Arabs, who were semi-civilized, in a christian 
 sense, women were treated with greater ccjurtes}-, and more 
 fully protecteil than in the cinintries named. And among 
 the Hebrews the\- ()ccu[)ied a still more exalted position in 
 [niblic esteem. 
 
 The church is not perfect and is not always abreast of the 
 age. It is conservative, rather than progressi\-e, and is seri- 
 ously affected b\' its en\ironments. Its members will be 
 dominated more or less b\' satanic influences until the}' pass 
 out of a mortal into an immortal life, and the church militant 
 becomes the church triumphant. The}' are sinners saved by 
 grace, who feel the limitations of the tlesh and know b}' pain- 
 ful e.\i)eriences that inherited tendencies and prejudices are 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 not easily overcome, e\en with divine hel[). She should be 
 judged fairly, and not unjustly assailed by reformers, whose 
 ideas of liberty and development are in advance of their t^en- 
 cration. It is claimed, and in my opinion conclusixel}' shown, 
 that the men and women who have wrested liberty of thought 
 and conscience from obstinate opjjressors and political and 
 property rights from organized greed have been, in nearh' 
 every instance, disciples of the great Commoner in whom 
 divinity and humanit}- so beautifully blended. If we. who 
 beliex'e that libert\- is necessary to dexelopment, and that it 
 I)elongs to e\er\' human being, will do our best to create pub- 
 lic sentiment and educate public opinion and not waste our 
 time denouncing those who differ with us, we will not labor 
 
 in \ain. 
 
 " He, watching (i\er Israel, sluiiihers not nor sleeps. " 
 
 God, in Jesus Christ, will take care of his own. The poor are 
 
 His. The oppressed are His. The hel[)less are His. In ever\' 
 
 age since the shepherds saw His star in the East He has 
 
 w rought among men and brought lil;)erty to those who were 
 
 in bondage. .Shackles are breaking, fetters are falling, deli\- 
 
 erance is coming, and the da\' oi woman's exaltation is at 
 
 hand. The signs of the times indicate that, within a quarter 
 
 of a centur\-, American women will be enfranchisetl antl a 
 
 citizen can sing, without blushing, as he cannot do now — 
 
 " Nil sla\e beneath the starry tlau;." 
 
 In oiu' western world will rise, on the ruins ol the old. a 
 
34 FROM TAPS TILL REVELLLE. 
 
 new republic in which elis^ibility to citizenshi[) will not be 
 determined by the sex of the applicant. There will be, I trust, 
 no violent rc\olution, no shock of contcndini^ armies, no battle 
 plains drenchetl with blood. The change will be easy and 
 natural. The best of the old will be absorbed by the new and 
 live in it. Impelled by a sense of justice, even now awakened, 
 men will right the wrongs of a century by clothing women 
 with equality under the law and permitting them to become 
 citizens of a country they are taxed to support, and whose 
 laws they are compelled to obey. The forces at work are 
 irresistible and the result inevitable. 
 "There's a light about to gleam, 
 There's a fount about to stream, 
 There's a flower about to blow. 
 There's a warmth about to glow. 
 There's a midnight darkness changing into gray. 
 Men of thought, men of action, clear the way." 
 
 -^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
FUOM TM'S TILL IIEVLILLL 
 
 Bi 
 
 Unfelt the heat, untossed tlie hay, 
 By sire and son one summer day. 
 
 My gray haired sire, with tjuickenin^- breath. 
 Talked of the holocaust of death 
 That menaced home and native land — 
 Of man's revolt and God's bared hand. 
 I heard the story from his lips, 
 And drank it in, as a wild bee sips 
 The nectar from the opening flowers. 
 Or thirsting earth, the falling showers. 
 
 Across the field, with stately stride, 
 My brother came to father's side 
 To say Good-bye, ere he should go 
 Where angry hosts surged to and fro. 
 I marked his uniform — whose hue 
 Was like the arching sky so blue, 
 1 touched his sword, it bore his name - 
 With which he con(|uered men and fame, 
 On far-off fields bestrewn with dead, 
 Enriched with blood by heroes shed. 
 
innM TM'S TILI. KEVKl l.LE 
 
 He rose full hij^'^h in my esteem. 
 And seemed the hero of my dream, 
 When in my trundle bed 1 slept, 
 And dreamed of war and loudly wept, 
 because I could not pack a gun, 
 And fiercely light from sun to sun. 
 
 The last farewells were (|uickly said, 
 Mis shajiely hands caressed my head; 
 No tear drops la\ ed my father's face, 
 lirave son of an unfearing race, 
 He bade his son be brave and strong, 
 In struggles tierce, on marches long, 
 Anil sent him forth, with love and jiridc. 
 To hght on tields, where legions died. 
 And hear in swamj^s, the bloodhound's bay 
 When far from prison walls awav. 
 
 When rose the sunset's after-glow, 
 With tearful eyes I watched him go, 
 And, as I sadly watched and we[)t, 
 The gathering shadows o'er me crept. 
 Till I could scarcely sce the hill. 
 Where last I saw my brother Bill. 
 
 ® * * » » ;li * a 3 
 
 V\t packed a gun in many a frav, 
 Since my big brother marched away. 
 Have traveled long the way of life, 
 And know its burdens, heat, and strife, 
 
riiOM TA/'S ril.L KEY i: I L I.E. 
 
 But as I climb each towering hill, 
 Far ill advance moves brother Bill, 
 A giant yet -he seems to me, 
 Where e'er I go on land or sea. 
 
 I'm weary now and bald and gray, 
 And sometimes scarcely see my way; 
 But even now, in life's decline. 
 When pitying stars smile on and shine, 
 Or angry tempests howl and weep. 
 And haunting fears their vigils keep, 
 I see, this side of Shadow Land, 
 A massive form, a shapely hand. 
 The gleaming sword, that liore his name. 
 With which he coiKjuered men and fame, 
 And know the man, far down the hill. 
 Is still my hero brother l^ill. 
 
 Sometimes I think, when I bend low 
 And hear the river's sullen flow, 
 Then cross the flood that rolls between 
 This dying world and one unseen, 
 That I will see, in tiiat strange land, 
 A massive form, a shapely hand, 
 A gleaming sword, that bears his name, 
 With which he conquered men and fame. 
 And he will be, in vision still, 
 My hav field hero -brother liill. 
 
FROM TAJ'S TILL REVFALLK 
 
 ^\lQ MclSSclCrG. 
 
 Where the Big Horn pours its turbulent flow 
 
 From the rock-ribbed mountains towering high 
 The old fort crumbles where years ago 
 
 It lifted its walls to the star-flecked sky; 
 The wild wolf prowls where our comrades sleep 
 
 In their nameless graves by the crumbling walls, 
 And our old stockade is a shapeless heap 
 
 Where once we answered the bugle calls. 
 
 Now battered and old are the builders all 
 
 Like the mouldering walls that in ruins lie. 
 We rally no more at the Captain's call 
 
 Nor draw our swords at the trumpet's cry; 
 (^ur battles are over, and we in peace 
 
 Are waiting the angel that comes to all, 
 That brings to the war-worn sweet release. 
 
 And calls to a land where no shadows fall. 
 
 We think sometimes of the vanished years 
 And the stalwart forms that have gone for aye, 
 
 Of hunger and thirst and maddening fears. 
 And dangers that haunted us night and day; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 39 
 
 We dream sometimes, when the nitrhts are lonj,^ 
 Of the battles we fouyht in the dim star-Ught, 
 
 Of the sabre's flash and the Sioux's war song 
 And the harvest of death in the wintry night. 
 
 We think of the massacre foul as hell 
 
 On the mountain's side and by river's flow, 
 Of the torrents of blood where our comrades fell 
 
 In the hope'ess battle so long ago; 
 We hear the shouts of our gallant men 
 
 As they madiy fight in the ambuscade, 
 The death song floats on the air again 
 
 As it fiercely swelled when the charge was made. 
 
 Of all who fought on that cruel day 
 
 None ever came back to our ranks again; 
 With glory they sleep where in death they lay 
 
 All scalped and mangled by savage men; 
 We honor our comrades who fronted death 
 
 With cheeks unblanched in the throes of pain, 
 Whose whitening l)ones feel the Winter's breath, 
 
 The sun's fierce heat and the cooling rain. 
 
 Where the serpents hiss and the coyotes cry, 
 When the sun-light falls or the tempests weep. 
 
 Where the storm king bi-oods and wild winds sigh, 
 Unknown and unsung our heroes sleep. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL RFA'FJLLE. 
 
 ^l7e Qrand aArmy of +I79 I^Gpublic 
 
 A i^reat manv people do not fully understand the mission 
 of the Grand Arni)- of the Republic. It is, in some respects, 
 like the Confederate N'eterans' Association, and is one of the 
 •greatest peace organizations in America. Every comrade 
 prays that our soil may never again be tlrunk with the best 
 blood of our best people. 
 
 The men who meet around its camp fires have been tested 
 on nian\' fields and know by experience the horrors of war. 
 They conquered peace, and cnjo\' it by the right of conquest, 
 and so long as the princij^les for which the\' fought are undis- 
 turbed will counsel moderation. '■ with malice towards none, 
 and charity for all." 
 
 One of the principles for which the\' contended is as old 
 as God, and they are set for its defense. The men who have 
 marched and bivouacked and fought don't want the war 
 drum to throb an)- more or the bugle to sound another 
 call to arms. The songs of contented women and little 
 children are sweeter far to the grizzled veterans of si.\t\-- 
 one and five than the maddening strains of martial music. 
 The men who dug the trenches and slept in them, who built 
 the forts and defended them, are not disposed to rouse anew 
 the passions and antagonisms aroused and engendered by the 
 
FROM TAJ'S TILL UEVELLLE. 
 
 ci\il war. While they recoi^nize the inherent manhood, and 
 honor the superb couraj^e and matchless dexotion, of those 
 who hazarded all for the "Lost Cause," and hail as brethren 
 the sturd}' men who wept when the "Conquered Banner" was 
 furled forever they do not abate their love for the truths for_ 
 which the}' contended. They rejoice that in our great repub- 
 lic there is no North, no South, no P'ast, no West. As years 
 roll b\' the " bo}'s " desire more and more to meet and discuss 
 the events in which the\' figured so conspicuoush' years ago 
 and renew the friemlships formed on perilous marches and 
 tented fields, in [Mison walls and hosiMtal tents. They are 
 liondiearted )-et, and ready to do and dare, if occasion demands 
 action or sacrifice, but their hoar\- heads and bent forms are 
 prophetic. 
 
 "The >-oung may die, the old must." As age ad\'ances 
 the Liospel of peace and good will take on a more enchanting 
 sound and thrills them as it has never done before It is like 
 the ripple of cooling waters to th(xse who leave the rainless 
 desert behind them. 
 
 They remember the weaknesses, but reverence the memor\', 
 
 of those who have passed out of ranks into the land of shadows. 
 
 They can not forget their comrades who, wrapped in their 
 
 bloodx- shirts, rest on the fields where they met death with 
 
 honor. .Somehow the\- belie\e and sing 
 
 They wear tlie deathles-S crowns their vah»r won 
 And tread with tircle.ss feet the shiniiii,'^ way 
 lleyond the y;ates ajar. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL HEVEILLIJ. 
 
 ^ess. 
 
 You rave about Ellen so youiij; and fair, 
 Her l)lushes and dini])les and sunnv hair; 
 You envy the breezes that (hmce and play 
 With her tempting tresses the livelong day. 
 You sing of her ])outing and rul)v lips, 
 The thrill they send to your linger tijis, 
 Of the clinging arms and the melting kiss. 
 That makes your soul a sea of bliss. 
 
 She is i.retty and vvin.sonie, but I confess, 
 She can't comjiare with mv statelv Jess, 
 Wliose raven crown ])Uts night to shame, 
 Whose dauntless spirit none can tame; 
 Who stands erect with cpieenlv grace, 
 And shows tiie world a fearless face, 
 Where coui^age nestles and power sleejis, 
 Wliere beautv lingers ami passion weejis. 
 
 Her \'oice ri:ig"^ like a trumpet's blare. 
 When tempe-ts rage in her bosom fair. 
 But softly woos when storms subside, 
 Like the soothing song of an t'bbing tide; 
 Love haunts the depths of hei- taunting eye; 
 
Fh'OM TAPS TILL ItllV FJ LLE. 
 
 But fears comniiiiLj^le with tears and siLi,lis, 
 Wlien 1 see her .uo, witli willing; feet, 
 To the trystint; |ihice where she will meet, 
 A liaiulsonier man tliaii I. 
 
 She is cold and i,M-ave, Init tj:raei()iis tod. 
 Whenever I call to "bill and co," 
 l)Ut the toss of her head unner\es me so, 
 I ran not unfold mv "tale of woe;" 
 I can't sav, "Sweetheart, hear nie now, 
 My vows beliex'e, my |ira\ers allow," 
 Dut sit and stammer, while ill at ease. 
 And shi'ink from one who is sure to jdease — 
 A liandsomer' man than I. 
 
 She is |)ious and |iroud, and jieople say. 
 She is t,n-ace itself when she kneels to |>ray, 
 She reads rare hooks and ])a|)ers, too, 
 And knows the tricks that cliarmers do; 
 She plays the flute and the violin. 
 In her cosy home as "neat as a jiin," 
 Her cheeks are rosy, hut not with jiaint. 
 And the dinner she cooks will tempt a saint. 
 And a handsomer man than I. 
 
 I love her madly and yet I know 
 She tlunks me a la.^Kard, 1 dally so, 
 I am .uoiui^: to make a ^^allant tiL,dit, 
 And win or lose her this \erv ni>;ht; 
 
FllOM TAPS TILL IIFA'EU.LK. 
 
 She is w'ortli the winninij, \es, I ween, 
 Nauj,rlit fairer or purer on eartli is seen — 
 \\m vvill marry v.air Kllen, well I ,i,aies.s, 
 1 won't surrender uiy stately Jess, 
 To a handsomer man than i. 
 
 1-S^^5«^- 
 
FIIOM TAJ'S TILL IIEVEILI.E. 
 
 §Cold l+er Gv)Gry Da^. 
 
 'ARODY ON "KISS HER F.VI'.KV DAY, 
 
 Says a charmintj sin,<!:er, tliis side the se;i 
 
 Sin^-iii.LT of life as it ouiLiht to l)e 
 
 And a fettered woman that once was fre 
 
 " Kiss her e\ery day." 
 lUit Grad Grind thnikin- it doth ajipear 
 That wives lo\e hest the men they fear. 
 Calls to each imsband, far and near— 
 
 "Scold her e\ery day." 
 
 » * * * * ^: * ;|i 
 
 Reader, liave \dn ,L;ot a wife? 
 
 Scold lier everv da v. 
 Scatter all the )o\s of life, 
 
 Scold her every day. 
 Tell her she is looking jaded, 
 Tliat her roses all have faded, 
 Whh yonrtongne, stiletto liladed, 
 
 Scold her e\'erv dav. 
 
 Tell lier .she is .i^n-owing Hal 
 Kverv passin- dav. 
 
 That she's --ettin.L,^ coarse a 
 Seoul her e\erv dav. 
 
FROM TAI'S TILl. liEVEILLK. 
 
 Tell her when a woman's married, 
 Woiiiuled, bruised, and hurt and iiarriec 
 L()\e"s advances all are |>arried. 
 Scold her e\er\- dav. 
 
 Tell her you will ne\er miss hei, 
 
 If she u'oes awav. 
 That you'll flirt with Gene and kiss ker 
 
 Forty times a dav. 
 Tell her she is not your crown. 
 Always lea\e her with a frown. 
 Never keeji your temper down, 
 
 Scold her everv dav. 
 
 Winter, sunnner, rain or shine, 
 Always sulk and blame. 
 
 Spring or autumn, alwavs wliine 
 She's a shrew to tame. 
 
 Tell her she is cross and cold. 
 
 Common, siirunken, urowinLj old, 
 
 Other wives are j^^ood as ,ijold, 
 Scold her everv dav. 
 
 When there's somethint: vvrons;- with l>aby, 
 
 Scold her e\ery day, 
 She is sick and tired, maybe. 
 
 Scold lier any way. 
 Scold her when hrr soul is sad, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEfLLF. 
 
 Scold Ikt wIk-ii her lieart is ,!j:1;i<1, 
 Be yourlu.me life ,^^(...(1 ..r bad, 
 Scold her every day. 
 
 If she coyly comes behind \-ou, 
 
 Like a child at play, 
 C.ently throws her arms around you, 
 
 Dasli them off, I pray; 
 Tell lier that her touch disturbs you, 
 When she comes, as if to woo 
 l^ack the love that once was true. 
 
 Scold her e\ery day. 
 
 If you see her tear drops rise, 
 
 \\'i|)e them not away. 
 If she weeps siiow no surprise. 
 
 It is woman's wa\. 
 Tell her when .she sobs and si^lis, 
 She is ULjIy when she cries. 
 Crying wives all men despise. 
 
 Scold her everv dav. 
 
 If she begs you for a kiss, 
 Scowl and turn away, 
 Though she does not ask amiss, 
 
 Scold her anyway. 
 Do not think of other days, 
 ( )f \i)Ui' old-time tender ways, 
 (jive not words of lo\ e or praise. 
 Scold her everv dav. 
 
48 FJiOM TAI'S TILL J! KVJJJ LLK 
 
 lror\ Bull, ft]G (;roW ^l^ief. 
 
 Among the Indians who visited our fort on the Hig Horn 
 river were Iron Bull and his squaw. He was a superb speci- 
 men of physical manhood and had won renown by his prowess 
 and feats of valor in many hard fought battles. .She was an 
 attracti\e woman in man\' wa>'s, and superior to her dusky 
 sisters in every respect. Poets and writers of thrilling ro- 
 mances have raved about pretty Imlian women, but they are 
 extremely scarce, as every one who has li\-ed among our 
 Western tribes well knows. 
 
 Iron Bull was a malignant enem_\' but a faithful friend, and 
 had shown himself to be a sterling friend and ally of the 
 whites. At one time he, with some other chiefs, had gone to 
 Washington to see and confer with the great "White l^\ather," 
 and was greatly impressed w ith the wonderful sights he saw 
 and awed by the numbers and superior intelligence of the pale 
 faces. .After this visit he opposed war with the whites, and 
 having plighted his faith, resisted all the efforts of the \'ounger 
 bucks to \iolate the treat)' and go on the war path. Tall, 
 muscular and graceful, he was fierce but majestic in his bear- 
 ing. No imperial pt)tentate e\er sat upon a throne or trod 
 
FIIOM TAJ'S TILL REVEILLE. 49 
 
 the earth with more dignity, or greater pride, than this moc- 
 casined and befeathered Chief of the Crows. He had achieved 
 distinction by bravery and skill in battle and was as proud of 
 his conquests as Napoleon could have been of his \ictories, 
 and would never tire of describing the blood}' conflicts in 
 which he had engaged with alien tribes, and the trophies he 
 had won from the Sioux and Blackfeet. He was very vain of 
 his showy apparel and gorgeous trappings. Half barbarian as 
 he was, he had too much respect for the whites to display 
 the scalps he had torn from the heads of his victims, for 
 before he had come in contact with civilization he was as 
 cruel and blood-thirsty as any other savage in that great 
 hunting ground, "The home of the Crows." 
 
 His wife had taken on man\' of the graces and refinements 
 of christian people, and the writer remembers many delight- 
 ful visits made b}- him and his comrades to her tent, and 
 pleasant conversations with her and her husband. She had 
 obtained a number of pictures, photographs of army ofificers, 
 and little souvenirs from the few whites she had met, and she 
 prized them very highly. When any of our men visited her 
 she brought out her little "keep-sakes" and curiosities and 
 exhibited them, giving in her broken English explanations 
 about each article, not unlike an ingenuous country woman in 
 her simplicity and desire to entertain, showing her guests her 
 latest calico dress or the crazy quilt she has just completed. 
 She was f|uite hospitable and desired to please her callers and 
 
FROM TAPS TTLL UFA'KILLE. 
 
 win words of commendation from them. No society queen in 
 any of the social circles of our i,n-eat cities could have displayed 
 greater tact as a hostess than this untutored, semi-civilized, 
 woman. 
 
 This sketch is written to show how savagery yields to civili- 
 zation and christian principle exalts the barbarous. 
 
 Iron Bull was brave. No man dared, except at the peril 
 of his life, to question his courage; but, like all warriors who 
 live by the hunt and the chase and go to war, he was, so far as 
 work was concerned, lazy, and would smoke or sleep while his 
 wife carried wood and built fires upon which the venison he 
 brought in was broiled or roasted. The country was a hunt- 
 er's paradise, overrun by buffalo, bear, deer, elk, antelope and 
 jack rabbits, and he was a mighty Nimrod— with his arrows he 
 had slain many of the wild beasts that roamed in the valleys 
 or prowled in the mountains. 
 
 We. who were "pilgrims in a strange land" will never 
 wholly forget the rugged warrior and his kind-hearted squaw. 
 For months at a time we never heard the voice, or looked into 
 the face, of a white woman and the hours spent by us in their 
 wigwam, nestling in the shadow of the great mountain, will 
 abide with us as long as memory reproduces the sights and 
 scenes of our vanished years. 
 
 It ma\' be that the place that knew these noble descend- 
 ants of a dying, but heroic race, knows them no more. It is 
 not improbable that the\- have gone to the "happy hunting 
 
FROM TAI'S TJI.L IIEVKILLE. 
 
 grounds," reserved by the Great Spirit for good Indians. 
 Somehow we believe it is well with them, whether they walk 
 together in the evening of life, or have passed out of its 
 hurl\'-burly, into the land of shadows. They were rude and 
 uncultured, but, when they saw the light they moved toward 
 it, and our scriptures surely teach that at the end of every 
 searcher's path stands Jesus, the great Revealer. We, who 
 shared their generous hospitality, de\outly hope that they 
 li\'e in peace or tread the highways of a fairer world, where 
 the death song never floats on the startled air and the war 
 cry is never heard calling the braves to battle and to death. 
 
FROM TAJ'S TILL IIKVEILLE 
 
 §moo+l7in^ \\iq 09rint^les ®uf. 
 
 Wliy! what are you <l()ill,L,^ l)al)y mine 
 
 To Lcraiulpa's troul)le(l face. 
 That makes it softly l^eam and sliiue, 
 
 Like a star a^leam in si)aee? 
 Her voice was silvery, soft and low. 
 
 As she (juickly turned about, 
 And said, "I love my iirandjia so 
 
 I'm smoothiiiii the wrinkles out." 
 
 ^'ou■ve a healing touch, oh l)al)\ mine, 
 
 And a heart aflame with love, 
 f^lood furrows <lee|) .-ind -ild each line 
 
 With sun-li,L,dit from above. 
 (), touch, with vours. the bloodless lips 
 
 That wait for you just now, 
 The magic dwells in your tinker ti]>s 
 
 To smoothe his furrowed brow. 
 
 He is battered and old, oh babv m 
 And weary of pain and strife, 
 
 The last to fight, of a noble line, 
 On the battle fields of life. 
 
FROM TAI'S TILL liFAEILLE 
 
 All gone are the comrades of long ago, 
 Who answered the trumjiets call, 
 
 When the clouds of war were hanging 1 
 O'er valley and mountain tall. 
 
 \'(iu ha\e winged your way, oh hahy m 
 
 From a realm of changeless light. 
 To brighten the way of one. in time. 
 
 Who threads his way l)y night; 
 To lay on the withered breast of age, 
 
 Your masses of sunny hair, 
 And dri\'e from a he;irt, where ])assioiis 
 
 The phantoms of dark despair. 
 
 You have brought the light, oh babv mi 
 
 Tograndjia's troubled face. 
 As I watch it softly beam and sliine. 
 
 Like a star agleam in space. 
 I bless the sweet \oice, soft and low. 
 
 And the girl that turned about. 
 To say. "I love my grand|)a so 
 
 I'm smoothing the wrinkles out.' 
 
FIIOM TM'S TILL IIEVKILLE. 
 
 C/9l7Gr\ tl7G Daylight (;onqaers \[\<^\. 
 
 She sat on my kiu-c, in the loni,r atjo, 
 
 A pratthnjj,- child of tlirco, 
 And voiced, in sweet tones soft and low, 
 
 Her l)oundless lo\ e for me. 
 She .stroked mv hair and touched my face 
 
 With her dimjiled hn,i.,^ers white; 
 Then niakin.i,^ my arms her resting; place, 
 
 She waited the cominL,'^ nis,dit. 
 
 As it slowly fell we sat and dreamed 
 
 'Neath the .sheltering- maple tree, 
 While floods of li^ht that l)ri,u:htly beamed 
 
 Rolled downward into the sea. 
 The zephvrs fanned my sun-browned face, 
 
 Stirred .irently her locks of ^old — 
 And we fell asleeji in our trystint,^ jilace, 
 
 While the banner of ni.srht unrolled. 
 
 I tlreamed that a reai)er, yaunt and ^rim 
 Came searching; for golden i;rain. 
 
 That rii)ened in fields detiled by sin, 
 In a gruesome valley of pain. 
 
FROM TAPS TTLL REVETLLE. 
 
 I shrank from his fateful (lee]>-set eyes- 
 His withered l)ir(l-like liaiul 
 
 Wliile chiuds ()l)scured the starless kies 
 And darkness veiled the land. 
 
 He swept, with his eyes, my startled face. 
 
 My shrunken form, and old. 
 But chose one fairer, and full of grace. 
 
 For the Shepherd's upper fold. 
 When he waved his wand, a sunny head 
 
 Found a jiillow snowy white, 
 .\iul I crietl aloud for my baby dead, 
 
 'Till the daylight conquered night. 
 
 I will see in hea\en, now bending Icjw, 
 
 My |)rattling child of three. 
 Who voiced in sweet tones, soft and low 
 
 Her lioundless love for me. 
 .She will stroke my hair and touch my face 
 
 With her dimjiled fingers white. 
 And make my arms her resting place. 
 
 When the daylight coiujuers niglit. 
 
FROM TAI'S TILL TiEVElLLE. 
 
 C/9t?y ®ne Drummer pell. 
 
 Arthur started on his trial trip without realizing- what it 
 meant to him and what deplorable results would follow his de- 
 parture. His home was a little heaven, where love reigned 
 and its daily ministrations made life worth living His bright- 
 eyed, sunny haired, wife was loving and resourceful, and he 
 never knew when some new rcx'elation would show how she 
 planned for his happiness. lie always accepted and returned 
 kisses and caresses, but did not appreciate them full}' until he 
 reached the outsitle world, where the\- were for others and not 
 for him. The children that came one by one into his heart 
 and life never grew weary of showing their childish faith and 
 love in touching and tender wa\'s, and the young folks in his 
 neighborhood seemed tireless in their efforts to show him how 
 much he was to them. When he went awa\- he found that faith 
 and love and tokens of appreciation, that make the sum total 
 of human bliss, had a great deal to do with the happiness of 
 former days before he went out into the world to conquer 
 fortune. 
 
 He had kissed his wife and chiUlrcn and the tearful lasses 
 who came to see him off, and with man)' protestation of affec- 
 tion, sjone to the train. When he nas seated in the smoker. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 where he went, because he was slightly unnerved, and drum- 
 mers were in the habit of doing so, he began to feel that some- 
 thing had gone out of his life, but he was determined to show 
 clear grit and dismissed, as unmanly or inconvenient, many little 
 heart-suggestions abou.t home-life being the best life, and pre- 
 pared for his battle royal, his first attack on a hard-headed, 
 miserly old customer who was to be talked into bu}-ing some- 
 thing he didn't want, or to drive him ingloriously from the field. 
 One thing seemed strange to him. His life had been lived in 
 pleasant places and women entered into every day's doings, 
 but in the future they were to be ruled out. The hackman 
 that hauled him to the depot was a man; the manager that 
 gave him instructions was a man; the clerk that furnished him 
 his price list was a man; the agent that sold him his railroad 
 ticket was a man; the conductor that punched it was a man; 
 the news agent that sold him the paper, that he read with the 
 assurance of one widely traveled, while he puffed the cigar 
 that a man had sold him, was a man; when he left the omnibus, 
 driven by a man, at the door of a hotel kept by a man; the 
 clerk that si/x-d him up, while he registered, was a man; a man 
 showed him to his room, and his breakfast was served by a 
 man; after breakfast he went to the postofflce with a man, and 
 received his mail from a man; desiring to send a telegram, the 
 oi)erator, a man, received his message; a man shaved him while 
 another man shined his shoes, and then he went up town to see 
 a man. This was to be his life and the thought chilled him, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL liEVEILLE. 
 
 but he was not undone. Sunday was not far off and there 
 would be some change, he thought. 
 
 Sunday came and a man at the hotel, where he was stopping 
 asked him to go to Sunday school. The invitation was accept- 
 ed and he was soon in the place where sex distinctions are not 
 so closely drawn. The hand-shaker, a man, met him at the 
 door and introduced him to another man. The superintendent, 
 a man, invited him to go into the men's Bible class, taught by 
 a man. After the exercises were over he went up stairs, into 
 the audience room, and heard a man preach a powerful sermon 
 about a man. Nausea breeds discontent, and sameness wear- 
 ies. Arthur was a domestic man; one of the rare creatures 
 God sends into the world once in a while, that delights in lov- 
 ing and being loved, and in ninety days of enforced abstinence 
 and heart starvation he li\'ed a century, so he felt. He loved 
 women, as all good men, whether drummers or not, do, and 
 was sick unto death of the whole man business. With him 
 anything in petticoats was above par and he would have appre- 
 ciated a tctc-a-tctr with a woman. though she was ignorant and 
 uncann)', more than he would have enjoyed an interview with 
 the greatest wit that ever wore breeches. He was filled to the 
 brim with natural affection and there was no one within reach 
 upon whom he could lavish it. If he courtesied to some 
 ancient maiden lady she withered him with a frown or called 
 a policeman. If he asked some prett\' maiden the way to 
 some place, he knew all about before asking, she seemed to 
 
FROM TAl'S TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 divine his purpose and gave some flippant answer or passed 
 him in silence with her nose out of balance. He received let- 
 ters from home, in which the whole neighborhood sent kisses, 
 but the envelopes were not big enough to hold veK'ct lips to 
 touch his own and snowy hands to press his red brawn. 
 
 As time passed on he felt that love, apart from its object, 
 was not what it ought to be, and that its intensity and perma- 
 nence depended largely on personal contact. He could love his 
 wife of course — though she was far away — and she could love 
 him, but the caresses that love gives could not scale mountains 
 and swim rivers, and such love was a very tame thing after all. 
 While waiting for trains time hung heavily on his hands, and 
 he learned to play poker as a pastime, but soon disco\'ered 
 that playing for small sums made the game much more excit- 
 ing. He had been an abstainer from boyhood, and his wife 
 would have cried until her eyes were as red as the necktie he 
 wore when she first met him at a country picnic, if she had 
 detected the smell of liquor on his breath, and the dear girls in 
 his Sunday school class would have been shocked if they had 
 seen him enter a saloon, but somehow he felt that virtues were 
 for simple-mindegl folks, and vices for men and women of the 
 world, who require something exhilerating to make them 
 enjoy life that the homely virtues, well enough in common peo- 
 ple, could not give. He felt that an occasional drink with the 
 boys would do no harm, and the desire for comradeship being 
 very strong he disposed of an}' scruples that may have obtruded 
 
(iO FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 themselves, and being in Rome did as the Romans did. At 
 home he has a choice library of carefully selected books and 
 magazines and he and his wife grew nearer and dearer to each 
 other as they read and discussed their favorite authors and 
 poets. He noticed that very few of his associates read religious, 
 scientific, or historical works, and concluded to while avva>' a 
 rainy afternoon and get abreast of the times by reading one of 
 Ouidas' most sensational stories. He found it very interest- 
 ing, not so much because her language was rich and her sen- 
 tences beautifulh' rounded, but because there was so much in 
 it about women, not unapproachable, prudish, proper women, 
 but women who never had an\' scruples about meeting strangers 
 without the formalitx' of an introduction. He laid aside the 
 wholesome works he once enjoyed and revelled in the unadul- 
 terated nastiness of French and American realists of the baser 
 sort. By doing so he surel\\ but unconsciously, lowered his 
 moral standard and cheapened his estimate of the lowly vir- 
 tues that distinguish the pure in heart. When a trio of old 
 campaigners, who had dallied with him o\cr their social cups, 
 suggested that they call on some ladies, not overly nice but 
 decidedly chic, he was prepared to go and went with them. 
 The river was crossed that rolled between the cleaner world 
 with its happy homes and stalwart \'irtues and the other world 
 where vice disrupts and sensuality degrades. He did not see 
 the end from the beginning, but simply intended to vary the 
 monotony of his life by playing with a temptress and seeing 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 something of the underworld, and as many another fool before 
 him had done, rushed, like an unthinking horse, into danger. 
 He did not realize that he had made a mistake and over- 
 estimated his strength until it was too late. 
 
 Living, as he had so long, a pure life among simple minded 
 people who loved God and each other, he did not understand 
 the resistless power of wine and women. A man inflamed by 
 wine and scourged by passion, is powerless when assailed by a 
 designing woman, with sensuous grace and beauty, who has 
 caught the gleam of his gold and simulates a passion she does 
 not feel to fill her purse. A man, however brave and talented, 
 who places himself in the power of an abandoned woman is 
 hopelessly involved unless he is willing to defy public opinion 
 and flaunt his depravit}' in its face, no matter how much he 
 may loathe himself and the life he leads. He dare not reveal 
 his sin to the woman he has so cruelly wronged and the friends 
 whose confidence he has abused, and so his life becomes a 
 perpetual lie. He dare not neglect to feed the avarice of the 
 woman who knows his secret and can expose him at any time. 
 Heaven has ordained that there shall be two parties to every 
 sin against chastity, and no guilty man is safe until death 
 removes the participant in his debauch. From city to city, 
 and from continent to continent, drift the lost women of the 
 world, carrying with them the names and faces of those whose 
 passions they have fed, and their conquests are published 
 from lip to lip. The fear of exposure makes him a coward. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 and cowardice is the prolific mother of hypocrites. With self- 
 respect not wholly gone he is ashamed to associate with pure 
 women, as he once did, on terms of equality, but cannot, on 
 account of those he loves, withdraw from good society alto- 
 gether. The desire for companionship remains, and the spell 
 of the woman whose feet take hold on hell is upon him. 
 Though he knows that the love that monc)- buys is spurious 
 and a general commodity for sale to the highest bidder, he 
 feeds upon the unwholesome remnant she offers him in 
 exchange for the gold that he filches from his wife and chil- 
 dren. He naturally seeks his level and selects for boon com- 
 panions those who care little or nothing for the decencies of 
 life. 
 
 Arthur is not a happy man. He feels unfit for the com- 
 pany of the pure and has too much of the divine in him to be 
 satisfied in the society of the impure. He is a citizen of 
 neither world, and like a man without a country, is a victim of 
 unrest and disappointment. The apples of Sodom were 
 beautiful, but they did not satisfy. The desire to love some- 
 thing goaded him. The desire to be loved became a con- 
 suming passion. Step by step he trod the downward wa}', and 
 evil associations, vicious literature, and strong drink helped to 
 stimulate the desires that drove him down. Memory goads 
 and conscience whips and self-loathing embitters his life. 
 Having lost confidence in himself, his faith in others is shaken. 
 In his better moods he hates the double life he is compelled 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 to lead but hasn't the courage to give it up. Men say that he 
 ought to abandon his e\il ways; and he ought, but the knowl- 
 edge that he has fallen and played the hypocrite makes him 
 fearful, irresolute and unbelieving. 
 
FROM TM'S TILL UEVKITJ.E. 
 
 ^\lQ I^Gunior\. 
 
 When the "boys in blue" broke ranks thirty years ago the 
 largest volunteer arnu' ever marshalled in the Western world 
 was permanently disbanded. Death has o\ercome many who 
 were victors then and only a remnant remains to enjoy the 
 peace their valor won. 
 
 Those who have been mustered out forexer were not fault- 
 less, but their fame will grow brighter as the wt)rld grows older, 
 and they will li\-e, in histor}' and song, as long as men are 
 moved b\' heroic deeds and wonien exalt courage and con- 
 stanc}'. Those who are waiting for their final discharge will 
 soon join their fallen comrailes and 
 
 ".Sleep the sleej) that knows no wakin^^" 
 until God orders the unixersal roll call. 
 
 When namni-- caniiuii hiirie.l tlieir shot aiid shell 
 'C.ainst Siinipter's walls the stainless flasj; unfurled 
 
 .\l)()\e her hei^ius receixed their leaden rain. 
 Our country called. l'"roin e\ery nook and dell 
 In this broad land the smoke from cani|i tires curled, 
 
 .And marcduui;" men caught uji the ^lad I'cfrain; 
 "The star spangled bamiei' in triumph shall wave 
 O'er the lan.l of the free and tlie home of the brave." 
 
FROM TM'S TILL UFA' ElLLll 
 
 From |.e:uffiil hills and vallt-ys smiliiiK- fair. 
 She hadt us K(i int.) tlic- deadly strife 
 
 Where Titans ,L,M-a|.|»liu,Lr stood. 
 'Ihe war drum's throb boi-ne on the startled ai 
 The trum])et's cry and scream of an.^ry rife 
 
 Inspired our martial brotherhood. 
 
 We southward marched. ( )ur concjuerint,^ columns stront,^ 
 Faced serried hosts 'neath Southern sun and star 
 
 With battle flame and lines of ,i,ditterins steel 
 Fought storm and flood, on liurried marches loni;, 
 And raL,Mn,L; thirst from coolint; draughts afar 
 
 Heard hun,t,rer call above the cannon's peal. 
 
 Four years we fouL(ht an ever chani,nn^- right, 
 Sometimes we raised the victor's ringing shout 
 
 Sometimes our bugles called retreat; 
 Our watchword this: "Our Ood will sjiced the right, 
 Put freedom'-s foes to sure unrallying rout, 
 
 And send them sore defeat." 
 
 Not all who marched with us in sixty-one 
 
 Are marching neath our tattered flags tc^-day— 
 
 They watch us from afar; 
 They wear the deathless crowns their valor woi 
 And tread with tireless feet the shining way 
 
 I?eyond the gates ajar. 
 
06 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 No braver men e'er trod the quivering earth 
 Than those who met us on ensanguined fields 
 
 'Neath sunny Southland sky; 
 Some were plebeian born and some of gentle birth, 
 They periled all and lost and now their shields 
 
 In broken fragments lie. 
 
 The men who followed Sherman to the sea, 
 And fought with Grant till victory was won. 
 
 Salute the men in gray; 
 The broken ranks of Jackson and of Lee, 
 Who bravely fought until tlie tight was done. 
 
 Then cast their arms away. 
 
 Above the stars shall march in coming years 
 The blended hosts of our heroic dead. 
 
 Clothed with immortal youth; 
 The Prince of Peace shall calm their rising fears. 
 Drive thrist away and feed with living ])read 
 
 The stalwart sons of truth. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Salufe ^our (;l7ief, 
 
 SUGGESTED PA' THE DEATH OF \V. B. WYLIE. 
 
 Salute your chief ! Bend low each youthful head, 
 
 While passes by your loved but fallen chief. 
 He ruled you long, but with the conciuered dead 
 
 Now calmly sleeps despite your poignant grief. 
 No war drum's throb leads on his funeral train, 
 
 No scream of hfe cleaves through the air, 
 To join, with trumpet cries, in martial strain, 
 
 No flags enshroud his stalwart form so fair. 
 
 Salute your chief ! Bend low each youthful head. 
 
 He, helpless now, moves with the cortege on, 
 To the bleak house where rest the waiting dead, 
 
 And darkness broods until the breaking dawn; 
 The gloom dispelling dawn, that hunts the graves 
 
 Where dead men wait the coming of their King, 
 Who slays in love, and conquers whom he saves. 
 
 Then calls them forth with angel's trumpet ring. 
 
 Salute your chief I Bend low each youthful head. 
 And mourn for him who will not come again 
 
G8 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 And lead your blended ranks, as once he led, 
 Through fields of Ifght that dot a sombre plain; 
 
 Help scale the heights where knowledge sways 
 And wisdom's floods in ceaseless torrents pour, 
 
 Where tempters never lure from learning's ways, 
 And myriad minds, enriched, unfettered, soar. 
 
 Salute your chief! Rend low each youthful head, 
 
 And weejj for him, who, forceful, firm and kind. 
 Loved well the youth his broader knowledge fed. 
 
 Revealing truths they, searching, could not find. 
 You felt no tyrant's harsh, unreasoning sway, 
 
 Ikit ever saw the hantl, outstretched in love, 
 That helped you gain, each swiftly passing day, 
 
 A greater good — a thought gleam from above. 
 
 Salute your chief ! Bend low each youthful head 
 
 To him who passes on, and out, forevermore. 
 And soon will lie with the unanswering dead 
 
 Whose teet do never touch this mortal shore. 
 Xo war drum's throb leads on his funeral train, 
 
 No scream of fife clea\es through the air, 
 To join, with trumpet cries, in martial strain; 
 
 No flags enshroud his stalwart form so fair, 
 But strong men sob and women gently wee]), 
 
 While childhood wails its loving, last good-bye. 
 And o'er the form love could not always keep 
 
 The children's tear laved wreaths caressing lie. 
 
FllOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 ^\lQ Poodle and \\iq )s[oodle. 
 
 AN EPISODE IN CHARLIE S CHECKERED LIFE. 
 
 See sweet Mary's smitten noodle, 
 Kneeling at her slippered feet, 
 
 See her jealous, whiskered poodle, 
 Fiercely tear liis tender meat. 
 
 See sweet Mary's weeping noodle, 
 Sjjrawl upon the parlor floor, 
 
 See the shaggy, savage poodle, 
 
 Rend the stunning clothes he wore. 
 
 See sweet Mary's vanquished noodle. 
 Standing by the mantel tall, 
 
 And her vicious, warlike poodle, 
 Crouching low beside the wall. 
 
 See sweet Mary's blushing noodle. 
 Moving backwards to the door. 
 
 While the noodle-eating poodle, 
 Smacks his lips and calls for more. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 See sweet Mary's wounded noodle, 
 Lying on his troubled face, 
 
 Hear him swear at Mary's poodle. 
 And the scars he can't efface, 
 
 See sweet Mary hug^ the poodle. 
 That has fed on noodle meat, 
 
 While she laughs about the noodle. 
 And his trousers incomplete. 
 
 Love sick noodles, watch the poodles, 
 If you want to rise cominete. 
 
 For the poodles hate the noodles. 
 When they kneel at Mary's feet. 
 
FROM TM'S TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 DGclara+ior\ of principles. 
 
 "In introducing- nn^ machines", says a Texas sewing machine 
 agent, "to an ignorant and unthinking, but intelligent and dis- 
 criminating public, I beg the privilege of sa}ing: 
 
 "They are the best, and will remain so, until I arrange to 
 handle an entirely new line. I have sold every reputable and 
 disreputable machine introduced into Texas, in the last decade, 
 and have contributed to the happiness of my customers by 
 alwa}'s recommending every machine sold as unapproachable 
 in merit and strictly first-class in every particular. 
 
 "By buying in large quantities and ne\'er paying for the 
 goods, I am enabled to offer exceptional inducements to buy- 
 ers, and being legally irresponsible and absolutely conscience- 
 less, I cheerfully warrant every machine I sell for an\' length 
 of time the customer may desire. 
 
 "My opinions are fixed, but flexible; firm, but \arying. I 
 recognize and comment with great earnestness on the enor- 
 mities of the liquor traffic when in the society of total ab- 
 stainers and prohibitionists and insist that State and National 
 prohibition is necessary to sustain the life of the republic, 
 perpetuate its institutions, and promote the peace and pros- 
 perity of its sons and daughters. We are in imminent, deadly 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 peril, and the saloon must go. However, I can not refrain 
 from expressing my profound sympathy for all saloonists who 
 are contending with more than Spartan courage against the 
 merciless and destructixe hosts of temperance and fanati- 
 cism in defense of personal liberties and constitutional rights. 
 I am ready and willing to aid them in their heroic struggles. 
 
 "As occasion demands I identif}' myself with the Baptist, 
 Methodist, Presb\terian or Christian church, and affiliate, if 
 necessary, with the Catholic. Episcopal and independent and 
 dissenting religious bodies. Although I unequivocally en- 
 dorse the principles of these organizations, I am an atheist, 
 infidel, agnostic and free thinker. 
 
 "I bclive in and practice monogamy, but adx'ocate polyga 
 m\' within certain geographical limits. 
 
 "While I recognize the right of the goxernment to punish 
 crimes against society and suppress lawlessness by prohibiting 
 and punishing whatexer is \icious and hurtful, though it may 
 occur under the sanction and in the name of religion, I hold 
 that every man has a right, as a religionist, to do as he i^leases, 
 and that no power has a right to interfere with him in the 
 exercise of his God given righis. 
 
 " .Vlthough I am a Democrat, one of the unwashed, unterri- 
 fied kind, unreconstructed and unreconstructible, for reasons 
 satisfactory to mj'self, I \ote with the Republican party and 
 endorse its principles. While I do this I am in perfect accord 
 with the Mugwumps and f^opulists. I believe in a single and 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 double money standard and the single tax theory as advocated 
 by Henry George. 
 
 "I do not hesitate to invoke the wrath of God upon the migra- 
 tory and irrepressible Jews, whose ancestors made the greatest 
 tragedy, mentioned in sacred or profane history, possible. 
 They are aliens who amass colossal fortunes by questionable 
 methods. They know that suckers are born every minute and 
 deceive the people, with whom they affiliate, for gain. They 
 live in luxury, without labor, while those whose hard earned 
 money they acquire by their subtle arts are reduced to poverty; 
 but my soul revolts at the causeless and malignant persecution 
 of these wards of the Almighty, who are peaceable men and 
 good citizens, and have done so much, in their quiet and unsel- 
 fish way, to promote the intellectual, moral, and commercial, 
 interests of America and the world. 
 
 "Like Herr Most, I am an anarchist, but believe in corpora- 
 tions, combines, and trust. I believe that capitalists should be 
 protected in the ownership and control of their property, but 
 am a communist pure and simple. 
 
 "I am for the Union and its unquestioned supremacy over 
 the .States and Territories composing it, but believe that the 
 doctrine of States Rights as enunciated by Calhoun and others 
 was born in heaven. While I am willing to die for the Union, 
 right or wrong, I am equally willing to imperil my life and 
 propert)' in defense of the State against the aggressions and 
 exactions of the national government. 
 
74 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 "I believe this should be a government of the whites, by the 
 whites, and for the whites, although I supported with my voice 
 and vote the advocates of the Force Bill, The negro, whether 
 pure or hybrid, is not entitled to the rights and privileges of 
 citizenship. He is an exotic and should be transplanted. He 
 is a cancerous growth on the body politic, a conglomerate of 
 ignorance and depravity, and is unfit to exercise the functions 
 of a citizen; but is chaste, temperate, and industrious, and, as 
 a useful member of society, should be granted and protected 
 in the exercise of all the rights the constitution guarantees him. 
 
 "I believe in capital punishment and that the death penalty 
 should be abolished. 
 
 "I believe that secret societies are born in councils infernal. 
 They are a standing menace to the church, the state, and the 
 home, but I have shown my approval of them by joining every 
 one across whose mysterious portals I have been permitted to 
 go, and around whose sacred altars I have touched elbows and 
 crossed palms with the purest and best of men. 
 
 "I believe that women, though superior, are unequal to men, 
 whether considered as animals that perish, or beings instinct 
 with immortal life. 
 
 "Although I consider their clamor for rights and privileges 
 hitherto ungranted, as baseless, vulgar, and arbitrary, I am 
 in favor of enfranchising them and giving them everything 
 they can, as equals with men, rightfully insist upon. The 
 wrongs of ages ought to be righted. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 "Woman is the savior and destroyer of our race. She exalts 
 and casts down, purifies and corrupts, and leads to loftier 
 heights and lures to lower depths, than any other creature God 
 has made. 
 
 "My mother-in-law, who never tires of telling me how many 
 wise and wealthy men coveted the prize I drew and how 
 unworthy I am of the treasure she gave me, is a woman. My 
 landlady, who so delicately compliments her prompt-paying 
 tenants while reminding me that my rent is overdue, and so 
 patiently details the stoiy of her daily and hourly needs, is a 
 woman. My cook, who sometimes passes me on the street 
 without dunning me and protests that I am a " might}' good 
 feller but a pore pervider," is a woman. In fact, all of my 
 intimate female relatives and friends are women, and, knowing 
 them as I do, I will cheerfully endure martyrdom for their 
 sake. 
 
 "Women are peerless in every way and have lifted us 
 from the lowest depths of barbarism to the highest heights 
 of civilization. They are the purest and sweetest things 
 divinity every fashioned, but are evangels of discord whose 
 venomtipped tongues pierce like damascus blades, and are 
 chronic disturbers of the public peace. Their malicious 
 loquacity and repellant angularities of temper a:nd disposition 
 make this world of ours, that, but for them, would be resonant 
 with song and the abode of unchanging peace, a veritable 
 babel, a perpetual battlefield. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 "I know their mental poverty and moral incompleteness- 
 and proclaim their physical inferiority with absolute fearless- 
 ness. While I love women I love truth better. I sprang from 
 a chivalrous and unfearing line and resent their assumptions 
 of equality with undisguised contempt, as every self-respect- 
 ing man is bound to do. 
 
 "Women, despite the fierceness of their gentle natures and 
 their changeless but variable dispositions, are excellent judges 
 of machines, when they buy of me and accept without ques- 
 tioning the marvelous tales I tell. If one is captivated by 
 some other slick tongued deceiver and induced to buy some- 
 thing inferior at a fancy price, she simply exhibits the womanly 
 weakness that has precij^itated mental ruin and financial dis- 
 aster upon so many confiding and indulgent fathers, husbands 
 and sweethearts, and should be pinioned aloft as an awful 
 example, upon which others can look and be saved. 
 
 "I have endeavored to state clearly and simply the views I 
 entertain on important subjects, so that the public, I delight 
 to serve, may know that I am made of sterling stuff and can 
 be depended on in an emergency. 
 
 "Those who know mc best will testify that I have never 
 abandoned a friend as long as he could be used to advance my 
 interests or I could make a dollar out of him." 
 
 ******* 
 
 In the foregoing declaration of principles I have endeav- 
 ored to collect into one article the various statements made 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 by the Texas agent under different circumstances and among 
 different kinds of people. I need not add that, while he is 
 recognized as the best all-round liar in his section, he is not a 
 bright particular star in the local Four Hundred, and will soon 
 be compelled to leave for some other field of operation, where, 
 by being all things to all men and on all sides of all questions, 
 he can add something to his depleted treasury. 
 
 -J^^- ■ 
 
 ^l7e Moderr\ I^ule. 
 
 Hear you the rule our Teacher gave of old, 
 
 Say those who preach a gospel strange but true, 
 You earnest men, who teach and toil for gold. 
 
 You taskless ones, who neither think nor do; 
 His golden rule, through age on age, shall stand. 
 
 And millions know its silent, forceful sway. 
 The pure and wise of every race and land 
 
 Shall own its power till dawns no earthly day. 
 
 Hear you the rule of a more modern sage. 
 
 Say those who scorn the Man of Galilee, 
 His rule won't work in this self-seeking age. 
 
 When faith lies dead and truth does error flee; 
 Go vaunt your own with subtle, truthless tongue, 
 
 And hold, where blessings flow, your failing cup, 
 Spare not the old, ensnare the guileless young, 
 
 " Do other men or they will do you up." 
 
78 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 (^\lQ tAo\\}Qfs ©Answer. 
 
 Two little eyes that laugh alway, 
 Two little lips that pout for me; 
 
 Two little feet that sometimes stray, 
 Two little hands that restless be, 
 
 And is that all? 
 
 Two little eyes are closed to-day, 
 Two little lips no speech allow; 
 
 Two little feet find rest from play, 
 Two little hands are folded now. 
 
 And is that all? 
 
 Two little eyes shall see the King, 
 Two little lips His praises sing; 
 
 Two little feet His errands run, 
 Two little hands caress the Son — 
 
 And is that all? 
 
 Two little eyes shall watch for me. 
 
 Two little lips shout, "Welcome Home;" 
 
 Two little feet my guides shall be. 
 
 Two little hands shall clasp my own — 
 
 And that is all 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Marfyi'dom and Monuments. 
 
 The world sometimes crucifies its benefactors and atones 
 for its ingratitude by erecting colossal monuments to com- 
 memorate their virtues, while its historians and poets embalm 
 their glorious deeds in history and song after they have passed 
 beyond the reach of praise or blame. Somehow, when his 
 career is ended and his protesting voice is hushed, it recog- 
 nizes divinity in the man who dares to live in advance of his 
 generation and endure persecution for humanity's sake, 
 although it hates and persecutes him for arraying himself 
 against its cherished theories and traditions. The martyrs of 
 one age are the demi-gods of the next, and the crown of mar- 
 tyrdom presages a crown of glory. 
 
 If men ever learn that God loves those who have intelligent 
 convictions and the courage to express them, and that honest 
 thinkers and doers are the saviors of the race, persecution will 
 cease and the cross and guillotine be banished from the earth. 
 
 The man who knows and believes, and knowing and believ- 
 ing, does something to disturb conditions that are created and 
 fostered by ignorance and prejudice, is made of sterling stuff 
 and deserves honorable recognition by thoughtful and consid- 
 
80 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 erate people. Every man should entertain and manifest a 
 reasonable regard for public opinion, but it is argus-eyed and 
 hydra-headed, despotic and unreasoning, imperious and fickle, 
 and no man can captivate its fancy or comply with its require- 
 ments continuously without dishonoring his sense of right and 
 justice and adapting himself, without protest, to his environ- 
 ments. No trimmer can expect posthumus fame, for he who 
 moulds his opinions and shapes his life to harmonize with 
 public opinion, whether it be right or wrong, is devoid of prin- 
 ciple and as variable as the wind. If he changes his views 
 every time he changes his location, without adequate cause, 
 he is destitute of all the characteristics of real manhood and 
 utterly unreliable in any of the emergencies of life and 
 "weighed and found wanting" will be inscribed upon his 
 monument, if he has one, when he has left the world he was 
 too ignoble to serve. He may occasionally be wrong in his 
 conclusions, and sometimes harsh and ungenerous in his judg- 
 ments, but the man who lives for others and acts upon his con- 
 victions at the peril of personal popularity and with the assur- 
 ance that he will incur social ostracism and financial disaster 
 has the distinguishing merits of honesty and courage, and 
 should be regarded by friend and foe alike, as not faultless, 
 but "every inch a man." 
 
 Beautiful in its simplicity is the comment of Joaquin Miller 
 on the forty-niners, the daring men who, searching for gold, 
 turned their faces toward the sunset to meet death on the 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 desert, or in the mines, or to sleep " on the mountain tops 
 nearer the gates of God" their eternal sleep: 
 
 "They were rough, maybe, but they did their level best." 
 He who loves his fellevvs, and in the fear of God does his 
 level best, is cast in a heroic mould, and will rest in peace, 
 whether after "life's fitful fever," he sleeps with princes in 
 hallowed ground, or with paupers in a potter's field. 
 
82 FRO}f TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Mamie. 
 
 Our Mamie is singing night and day 
 Of lovers present, and lovers away, 
 
 And sweethearts lea' and true; 
 Well, hills rejoice and rivers sing. 
 And angel choirs make Heaven ring. 
 
 With anthem? old and new. 
 
 Our Mamie is playing night and day, 
 The "devil's dance" and " pilgrims gray," 
 
 And marches and galops, too; 
 Well, harpers are harping above the stars. 
 While oceans swell despite the bars 
 
 That fetter their waters blue. 
 
 Our Mamie is merry night and day. 
 And seldom thinks to weep or pray, 
 
 Or fathom the depths of life; 
 Well, waves are dancing on every sea, 
 And stars are twinkling o'er every lea. 
 
 Unthinking of woe or strife. 
 
 Our Mamie is loving, night and day, 
 Her friends and sweethearts, grave and gay, 
 And loves with all her might; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Well, love is older than Adam's race, 
 And those who love shall see God's face. 
 In a world without a nig^ht. 
 
 The rivers sing as they onward flow 
 The praises of one who loves men so, 
 
 He lifts their feet with song; 
 The mighty surge of the fettered deep. 
 Where death abides and tempests sweep. 
 
 Proclaims him great and strong. 
 
 The harpers strike their harps of gold. 
 To One whose love can not be told, 
 
 That walked with fallen men; 
 The waves will dance on every sea, 
 And stars will twinkle o'er every lea, 
 
 Till He shall come again. 
 
 Love sways alone the cloudless world. 
 Where saints salute her flag unfurled, 
 
 And sing the old, old song; 
 Whose sons shall come from many lands. 
 To rule, with bright and shining bands, 
 
 The conquered hosts of wrong. 
 
84 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 (^osie 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 I find among my pictures this drear day, 
 
 The shadow of a friend now far away, 
 
 Who walked in peace, if arching skies were bright. 
 
 Or when the world was veiled from human sight; 
 
 No limner's art can trace her matchless grace, 
 
 Nor catch the radiance of her sunny face. 
 
 It can not show, what life alone revealed. 
 
 Nor open tuneful lips that death has sealed. 
 
 Beyond the point where counter currents meet. 
 She safely passed on sure, unfaltering feet. 
 And smiling moved, despite all mocking fate. 
 From girlhood's dreams to woman's proud estate; 
 Her slender hands, that fed the hungry poor. 
 Had often knocked at sorrow's humble door. 
 And lingered long in loving, fond caress. 
 Upon a mother's head to soothe and bless. 
 What limner's art is helpless to portray. 
 Her hands had wrought each passing day. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 85 
 
 The light of truth shone in the earnest eyes 
 That saw, beside her path, no tempter's prize, 
 To lure her from the narrow, upward way, 
 That ends at last in an eternal day ; 
 She saw the good, enshrined in fallen man, 
 That upward tends since Adam's race began, 
 On far off hills beheld a shining light, 
 To guide each way-worn traveler aright; 
 No limner's art can show the stainless soul. 
 That showed despairmg men a heavenly goal. 
 
 She sung no songs devoid of hope or cheer, 
 
 Breathed out no sad refrain of doubt or fear. 
 
 Her silvern voice brought gladness in the home, 
 
 And called in luring tones to all aroam; 
 
 Brave, soothing words, instinct with faith and love. 
 
 Fell from her lips like raindrops from above, 
 
 And aching hearts forgot their secret pain, 
 
 And darkened souls felt light and warmth again. 
 
 No limner's art can show the soul aglow. 
 
 That drove from failing hearts despair and woe. 
 
 She treads no more the way of mortal life, 
 
 But safe forever from its heat and strife. 
 
 Will go no more on swift, untiring feet. 
 
 To joyless homes where want and failure meet; 
 
 Nor help the waifs upon a barren plain. 
 
 The outcast poor, who thread their way in pain. 
 
 Nor sing of love, that love may come again. 
 
Sfi FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Nor lift, with song, the feet of weary men. 
 Can limner's art portray the mystic power, 
 That works and wins though tempests lower? 
 
 We wait outside a world that looms atar, 
 
 She calls to us, through gates of pearl ajar. 
 
 To come to her upon the higher height, 
 
 That lifts its head in pure, unfailing light; 
 
 While harjiers strike their answering harj)S of gold, 
 
 She sings a song forever new, yet old. 
 
 Of changeless love, whose banner Christ unfurled 
 
 Above the ramparts of a fallen world. 
 
 Can limner's art the hope of triumph trace, 
 
 In speaking lines upon a pictured face. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 (;l7arlGy c\nd buella Mal^e Of). 
 
 Luella dropped the poodle and, springing to her feet, stood 
 with eyes distended and mouth wide open, while Charlie an- 
 nounced his determination to join the Senators and play with 
 t.'iem against the Chickadaws of Ouinceville. Although she 
 seemed wary and indifferent at times, she loved him with a 
 tenderness and tenacity that human language can not describe. 
 They had met the preceding week and were fast friends from 
 the beginning, even before their engagement which quickly 
 followed their first meeting. Charlie had met several girls in 
 his short, eventful life and had some doubts about the grip 
 Luella's affections had on him, and, in order to test the matter 
 satisfactorily, paved the way for his dramatic declaration by 
 reciting numerous harrowing tales of which the dead and 
 mangled heroes of the gridiron were the subjects. 
 
 One of his most intimate friends, a splendid stripling, had 
 left the field minus an eye and with a severed finger in his 
 pocket. Another fine fellow had gone home on a dray carry- 
 ing his broken leg with him. Still another, who was overproud 
 of his superb ivories, had left most of them in the mud where 
 the decisive struggle took place in a match game and lumber- 
 ing Lowman's mammoth foot hit his mouth instead of the ball. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 And Felix Flippen, his bosom friend and boon companion, 
 with elongated neck and colossal feet, had broken his collar 
 bone and died when a misdirected kick by a companion had 
 struck him in the middle, bringing his feet up and his head 
 down. 
 
 Luella admired his courage, but was shocked by his decision. 
 His thrilling description of the dangers that followed the play- 
 ers as closely as a jealous woman trails her faithless lover, 
 though rivers roll between, had a telling effect, and when he 
 told her, calmly and deliberately, that he intended to enlist 
 and serve until the foot ball war was over, unless death or 
 disability met him on the gory field, she reeled like a ship at 
 sea when the storm king troubles the waste of waters, and, with 
 a piercing scream, fell upon his neck and wept bitterly, while 
 the pug looked the astonishment it could not express. 
 
 "Oh, Charlie," she cried, while her tears rolled in torrents 
 dawn his unbent back and soaked the stiffness out of his 
 E. & W. collar, "my life; do not join that horrid team. Do 
 not defy death on his own territory. You are everything to 
 me — the only man I ever loved, and I will not have it so. You 
 know I love you better than anything on earth; better even 
 than Jacques, the finest imported pug in America. Listen to 
 me. Do not enlist; stop this side of the danger line; let the 
 awful butchery go on, if it must, but remember the dreadful 
 fate of Lady Macbeth and do not stain your hands with inno- 
 cent blood or enrich the earth with yours. Persist in }'our 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 89 
 
 course and my life is hopelessly wrecked. I shall go into 
 hysterics and my father will call in that ghoulish old doctor 
 who always collects his bills in advance when he practices his 
 killing art in our family. Oh, Charlie, fairest and bravest 
 among men, hear my prayer and answer it now. Christmas is 
 almost here and I want to save my money to buy, for you, a 
 pair of embroidered slippers and a collar button. For your 
 sobbing half-crazed Luella's sake let the whole beastly business 
 alone." 
 
 "Luella, you rave like a weakling and not like one who 
 expects to rest for life in the brawny arms of a man whose 
 courage is only equaled by his speed and muscle. I have 
 spoken and my word is law. The unbreakable laws of the 
 Medes and Persians are as plaster paris compared with my 
 decisions. Danger tempts me as wine tempts the tippler, and 
 I can laugh at death as the child laughs at the scorpion that 
 stings it. I will join the Senators though your pin money 
 goes to the miserly old doctor. Yes, though your heart break 
 and your tears fall like summer rain. I love you much, but I 
 love foot ball more." 
 
 Luella unwound her arms, shut up her fountain of tears and 
 replied angrily, while scorn turned up the corner of one rosy 
 lip: "Your insults are more than I can bear. Go hence, a 
 stranger, and never stand in my presence again. You are a 
 heartless man, a soulless monstrositv', incarnated for some 
 inscrutable purpose that God ma)' understand if he ever thinks 
 
90 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 about disagreeable things. My love has turned to hate and I 
 see you now, as mamma said I would see you some day, a cold, 
 self-willed, cruel man. Go," she exclaimed, flinging the glitter- 
 ing diamond ring, that he had traded his bicycle for and placed 
 on her finger a few minutes before, contemptuously at his feet, 
 "and get glory by shedding blood if you will, but never profane 
 my name by letting it linger on your unhallowed lips again." 
 Then hugging the pug tightly to her throbbing bosom, Luella 
 moved proudly away and left Charlie wondering what on earth 
 would happen next. 
 
 * * *- * * ****** 
 
 The financial manager of the Senators saluted Charlie and 
 and called for a contribution from him for current expenses as 
 a condition preceding membership. Charlie grasped convul- 
 sively at the silver dollar in his pocket and thought the situa- 
 tion over. His laundry was in the hands of a man who would 
 keep it until the bill was paid, and he would not have another 
 dollar until his mother's monthly boarder settled her account. 
 So rather than wear soiled linen a fortnight, he declined to 
 contribute and did not become a Senator. 
 
 *********** 
 He hunted Luella aud falling upon his knees begged for mercy. 
 He could not be a player without money, but he could be a 
 lover and get embroidered slippers and a collar button, too. 
 He vainly attempted' to grasp her elusive hand and cried 
 piteously: "Forgive me, dearest; throw away the pug and take 
 
FROM TAPS 7 ILL REVEILLE. 
 
 me to your arms again. I have sinned but I have suffered, and, 
 proud as I am, I beg for forgiveness. I did not know what I 
 was. doing. I am cast in an heroic mould and the blood of 
 mighty warriors courses through my veins. The thirst for 
 glory and adventure was in me and I would have startled the 
 world by fearless deeds but for your moving appeals. I 
 have flung ambition to the winds, for your sake, and here I am, 
 at your feet, where I will stay until I am forgiven. Luella, 
 hold me in your arms again and press your unpainted lips to 
 mine like you did before we quarreled — before I drove you to 
 madness by my stinging words. Call me your own precious 
 Charlie again and I will be as happy as you are beautiful." 
 
 Luella was as calm as an uptown office when the proprietor 
 steps in unexpectedly, and a look of triumph rested on her face. 
 She cast the pug aside, rose to her feet and bade Charlie 
 unbend his knees and stand face to face with her. The calm, 
 triumphant look passed away and a smile of ineffable sweet- 
 nest overspread her countenance, while love danced, in the 
 depths of her big, blue eyes. The displaced pug was discon- 
 certed, but made no demonstrations of joy or sorrow. He was 
 crestfallen, sad and thoughtful, but being very young and 
 unacquainted with the whims of American girls, could not 
 understand. The moon was wiser. It saw what was coming 
 and stepped behind a cloud, while all nature, sympathizing with 
 lovers reconciled, fell asleep till Charlie and Luella finished 
 making up. 
 
92 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 &\}q\ and \\}Q eAlli(§afor. 
 
 Tiny, mirthful, star-eyed Ethel played beside the noisome marsh, 
 
 Watches the flowers clamber upward, heard the frog's weird song so harsh 
 
 Though her dainty head was hatless, and her small white feet were bare, 
 
 Sweetest songs were outward flowing like her soft, dishevelled hair. 
 
 She had southward gone, with papa, from the hills of old Kentuck, 
 
 And was having fun a plenty, and the very best of luck, 
 
 Never thinking as she scampered freely, madly here and there, 
 
 Of the home she left behind her and the happy times that were, 
 
 Saw no fearful fate impending, heard no danger signal's call, 
 
 But unknowing, and unthinking, went, unwitting, to her fall. 
 
 All unseen an alligator slyly winked, and thus did say: 
 "I will fill my empty stomach with Kentucky girl to-day. 
 She, so very young and tender, will be easy to digest. 
 And to wisely snare and get her I will do my level best; 
 The Kentucky girls are wary and are very hard to fool. 
 And I'll never, never, eat one, if I'm not discreet and cool; 
 Oh, if she were not so restless, so disposed to skip and play, 
 I could quickly catch and eat her and enjoy myself to-day. 
 
 "Mercy, how she taunts and tempts me, with her flesh so gleaming white. 
 She will make a toothsome dessert or a Sunday supper light; 
 Now she nimblv frisks and frolics close beside the noisome marsh, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 93 
 
 Where the flowers clamber upward and the frog's weird song is harsh, 
 And comes closer, closer, closer, as her new born fears depart. 
 Bringing joy and expectation to my wildly throbbing heart, 
 If she stoops to pluck a flower on the marsh's deadly brink, 
 I can surely, safely house her, in my vacuum, I think. 
 
 I have fed on common niggers, with protesting cries and tears, 
 
 And insipid, tanned Floridians a score or more of years, 
 
 I need a change of diet, something wholesome, fresh, and young. 
 
 To cure my indigestion and restore my nerves unstrung; 
 
 I see the little rambler swiftly heading down this way. 
 
 To pluck an opening flower, now fragrant, bright and gay, 
 
 I'll shut my eyes and lie inert, just like a log decayed, 
 
 And soon will hide, from human sight, a trusting girl betrayed; 
 
 I'll never have a finer meal— have never had before, 
 
 Than one, I think, I'm going to have in twenty seconds more." 
 
 She stoops beside the marsh's brink, unmoved by doubts or fears. 
 He opens wide his monstrous mouth and — Ethel disappears. 
 
94 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Before and ©After. 
 
 BEFORE THE BUKIAL. 
 
 How Still he lies; how calm his massive brow. 
 It's old-time shadows all have passed away, 
 And jjcace is resting in its furrows deep; 
 He rests, I know, from care and sorrow now, 
 Where doubt ne'er comes and love ne'er goes astray. 
 Yet, knowing all, I cry aloud and weep. 
 
 I saw the shadows gathering on his brow, 
 While he, so patient, wrought and toiled tor me, 
 From dawn 'till noon, from noon 'till eventide. 
 But kissed them not away. They haunt me now, 
 While he, unknowing lies, and 1 can see 
 The peace an angel brought on him abide. 
 
 I press, with mine, the pale, unanswering, lips 
 That were unsought when red with lusty life. 
 And bathe with tears his white, untroubled, face; 
 He does not heed, though trembling finger tips 
 Press sunken cheeks with death's own pallor rife. 
 And touch the lines my tears cannot efface. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 God help him see my loneliness and woe, 
 Who bore, unhelped by me, life's crushing ills, 
 While I, uncaring, trod a thornless way; 
 God hear my prayer that he may surely know 
 How memory goads and conscience never stills, 
 For, if he knows, he will forgive to-day. 
 
 If, by God's grace, I get another man 
 To bear for me the ills or human life 
 And blaze a way for my uncertain feet; 
 My love, that by the dead began, 
 Will make of me a wise, indulgent, wife. 
 Till death and I in hnal combat meet. 
 
 ONE WEEK LATER. 
 
 The dead heard not, a love-lorn bumpkin did. 
 He watched her bend above a shrouded form. 
 With piercing cries and swiftly falling tears; 
 And told her soon that purest love lay hid 
 In his heart's depths, unfettered, strong, and warm. 
 That should be her's adown the coming years. 
 
 TWO WEEKS LATER. 
 
 Don't plead my vows you silly, brazen fool. 
 And fret the bonds that fetter you for life. 
 Whife I move on my own, unquestioned way; 
 
90 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Don't talk of love that wearied and grew cool, 
 Then passed away. Serve me, your queenly wife, 
 Whom wiser men obeyed before your day. 
 
 This lesson learn, oh, bumpkins, young and old, 
 The greed of power is mightier than love, 
 In loveless wives, who loudly wail and weep 
 Above the wronged their arms did once enfold; 
 Their tears flow not from healing springs above, 
 But from the nether springs, impure and deep. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 97 
 
 §ome famous C/9oman §uffra^isfs. 
 
 Those who believe in univ^ersal suffrage need not be ashamed 
 to advocate principles that are unpopular in many sections of 
 our country. They may be regarded as dreamers and denounced 
 as fanatics, but their position is impregnable and their argu- 
 ments unanswerable. The truths they hold arc self-evident 
 and will some day be universally accepted by thoughtful and 
 justice-loving people. Many of the leaders of thought in 
 England and America have insisted that in a republic woman 
 suffrage is not only inevitable but necessary and desirable. To 
 encourage suffragists who endure contempt for conscience 
 sake and contend with unfailing courage against fearful odds 
 I mention a few men and women, of national reputation or 
 world-wide fame, who have advocated or do advocate suffrage 
 for women. Those whose names are given have been distin- 
 guished as soldiers, statesmen, lecturers, writers, i)hilosophcrs 
 or philanthropists. The list is necessarily incomplete, The 
 majority on our roll of honor are christians living, or christians 
 dead, worthy disciples of the Galilean commoner and emanci- 
 pator. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln, Wendell Phillips, Gen. Neal Dow, Bishop 
 Simpson, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry W. Longfellow, 
 John G. Whittier, Henry Wilson, William H. Seward, Chief 
 Justice Chase, Benjamin F. Wade, Ur. Wm. T. Harris, Joseph 
 Cook, Senator Hoar, Senator l^lair. Dr. R. S. Storrs, T. DeWitt 
 Talmage, John Stuart Mill, l^ishop H. C. Potter, Bishop 
 Spaulding, T. W. Higginson, Charles Kingsle}^ Herbert Spen- 
 cer, Prof. Huxley, James P^-ecman Clark, Bishop Gilbert 
 Haven, W. E. Gladstone, Charles Sumner, Wm. Lloyd Garri- 
 son, Dr. Blackwell, ex-Governor W'arren, Hon. Carroll D. 
 Wright, Nathaniel Hawthorne, P^-ed Douglass, Theodore Til- 
 ton, Samuel G. Howe, Rutherford B. Hayes. Gov. Banks, Gov. 
 Boutwell, Gov. Claflin, Gov. W^ashburn, Gov. Talbot, Gov. 
 Ames, Gov. Long, Senator Plenry L. Dawes, John M. P'orbes, 
 Rev. Robert Collyer, Bishop P)Owman, Rev. Phillips Brooks, 
 Rev. A. J. Gordon, George William Curtis, Amanda Way, 
 Florence Nightingale, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Frances Power 
 Cobbe, Zerelda G. Wallace (mother of Ben Hurr), PLlizabeth 
 Stuart Phelps Ward, Louisa A. Alcott, Lydia Maria Childs, 
 Harriet Martineau, Mrs. James, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 
 Frances E. Willard, Mrs. A. J. Gordon, Alice Stone Blackwell, 
 Mrs. Charles, (author of "The Schonburg Cotta P'amily,") Mar- 
 garet Fuller, Frances D. Gage, Lucrctia Mott, Julia Ward 
 Howe, Lady Somerset, J. Pollen Foster, Rev. Anna Shaw, 
 Mary A. Livermore, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stan- 
 ton, Helen Gougar, Josephine K. Henry, Laura B. Clay, Clara 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Barton, Abbie W. May, Lucy Stone, Mary F. Eastman, Mar)- 
 Clemmer, Victoria C. Woodhull, Harriett Prcscott Spofford, 
 and Mrs. Susan S. Fessenden. The daughters of John D. 
 Rockafeller, the multi-millionaire, are among the }'oung suf- 
 ragists of New York. 
 
 Wise men neither overestimate their strength nor underesti- 
 mate the strength of their enemies. The universal suffragists 
 know that they have character, intelligence and respectability, 
 but they want numbers, and are trying to secure them. A 
 minority, however select it may be, can not cope with a majority 
 when vital issues are determined by the votes of the people. 
 Multitudes hav^e joined their ranks, and their growth in num- 
 bers and influence since the war has been phenomenal, but 
 they need more converts, and the work of proselyting goes 
 steadily on. 
 
 Alice Stone Blackwell, in a recent article says: "Sixty years 
 ago women could not vote anywhere. In 1845 Kentucky gave 
 school suffrage to widows. In 1861 Kansas gave it to all 
 women. In 1869 England gave municipal suffrage to single 
 women and widows, and Wyoming gave full suffrage to all 
 women. School suffrage was granted in 1875 by Michigan 
 and Minnesota, in 1876 by Colorado, in 1878 by New Hamp- 
 shire and Oregon, in 1879 by Massachusetts, in 1880 by New 
 York and Vermont. In 1881 municipal suffrage was granted 
 to the single women and widows of Scotland. Nebraska 
 granted school suffrage in 1883, and Wisconsin in 1885. In 
 
100 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 1886 school suffrage was given in Washington, and municipal 
 suffrage to single women and widows in Ontario and New 
 Brunswick. In 1887 municipal suffrage was extended to all 
 women in Kansas, and school suffrage in North and South 
 Dakota, Montana, Arizona and New Jersey. In 1891 school 
 suffrage was granted in Illinois. In 1892 municipal suffrage 
 was extended to single women and widows in the Province 
 of Quebec. In 1893 school suffrage was granted in Connecti- 
 cut, and full suffrage in Colorado and New Zealand. In 1894 
 school suffrage was granted in Ohio, a limited municipal suf- 
 frage in Iowa, and parish and district suffrage in England to 
 women, both married and single. In 1895 ^"11 suffrage has 
 been extended in South Australia to women, both married 
 and single. The world is evidently moving in the direction of 
 equal rights for women. It is better to help draw the car of 
 progress than to be dragged ignominiously at its wheels." 
 
 Their most uncompromising enemies are saloon keepers, but 
 they encounter opposition from all kindsof people. A Kentucky 
 Doctor of Divinity says: "The masses, and the classes, and the 
 asses, are against the preachers." It can be said, truthfully, that 
 these diverse fragments of society, with occasional exceptions, 
 are in many States a unit in opposition to the new evangels, 
 who proclaim the gospel of equality and plead for the enfran- 
 chisement of women. I cheerfully admit, without argument, 
 that millions of the wisest and best people in the United 
 States are opposed to giving the ballot to women. They are 
 
FR03{ TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 101 
 
 earnest, honest and conscientious, and are as clearly entitled 
 to their opinions as are those who entertain contrary views. 
 Equal suffragists can not consistently claim infallibility or a 
 monopoly of truth. Fallible should be written across the 
 creeds of Christendom, the political platforms that men build, 
 and the published utterances of theorists, philosophers and 
 historians, until human imperfections pass away and the undis- 
 puted reign of the perfect man is ushered in, for behind 
 every creed, platform, philosophy, history, and opinion is a 
 biased or imperfect man or a combination of biased or imper- 
 fect men. They should patiently appeal to the sense of 
 justice in fair-minded men and women and convince the judg- 
 ments of doubting Thomases and inquiring unbelievers by 
 marshalling facts and disclosing principles that command 
 assent. God reigns. If they are right they will succeed; if 
 they are wrong they will fail. 
 
 When John Wesley called slavery the sum of all villainies 
 and Wm. Lloyd Garrison pronounced- it a league with death 
 and a covenant with hell, thousands of christians whose ability 
 and piety could not be questioned rallied to its defense and 
 quoted texts of scripture to show that God sanctioned it. So, 
 now, when modern iconoclasts declare the subjection of women 
 to be unjust, ungenerous and unchristian those who magnify 
 the letter and minify the spirit of the law invoke Moses and 
 Paul to prove that woman is man's subject and not his equal. 
 Those who assaulted slavery and led the crusade against it. 
 
102 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 were regarded as agitators, fanatics and disturbers of the pub- 
 lic peace, not only in the slave States but in every part of the 
 Union. History repeats itself, and those who advocate the 
 cause of women now, as Phillips and Garrison championed the 
 cause of the enslaved then, are sowing to the wind and will 
 reap the whirlwind of popular indignation. The public will 
 regard them as enemies of social order and good government, 
 and ease-loving people, who love peace better than they love 
 principle, will denounce them as meddling busybodies or pes- 
 tilent fellows. 
 
 Phillips and Garrison lived long enough to hear shackles 
 falling from a fettered race, and many of those who are 
 despised and rejected now, like their elder brother, who stood 
 for the weak against the strong, will live to hear the trium- 
 phant songs of an emancipated sex. Until wrong is driven 
 from the throne that it has usurped, and right ascends it, they 
 expect opposition from the church and the saloon, society and 
 the rabble, the good and the bad, but the\' are neither intimi- 
 dated nor discouraged. They believe in their cause. They 
 have faith in themselves and their God, and are not standing 
 like plumed knights with lances at rest waiting for the hosts 
 of oppression to appear, but are marching to meet them and 
 offer battle. Many of their foemen are their equals in courage 
 and constancy, their peers in intelligence, kindness and morals, 
 but many of them are cowardly and inconstant, ignorant, cruel 
 and immoral. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 It is reasonably certain that the heroes of the christian faith, 
 from Abraham to Jesus, wore long hair. There are causes 
 which compel some women to cut off the flowing tresses that 
 add so much to their physical beauty, nevertheless there are 
 men unable to state a proposition or recognize an argument, 
 who imagine that they are prodigiously funny when they talk 
 facetiously about long-haired men and short-haired women, 
 and laugh immoderately, at their borrowed wit, as they ridicule 
 the demands and pretensions of those who insist upon larger 
 liberty for proscribed classes and, in their opinion, make much 
 ado about nothing. Nearly all of our modern reformers wear 
 their hair as custom requires, whether custom has the right to 
 dictate to them or not. It is a matter of surprise that the 
 feeble-minded contingent, with its battle cry, long-haired men 
 and short-haired women still cumbers the earth, but it does, 
 and none but God knows why. It is possible that fools are 
 social necessities and that idiots are proofs of depravity that 
 will exist, as object lessons for those who proclaim the fall 
 through Adam and redemption through Christ, until the curse 
 is lifted and the race begins a higher life in which character 
 and not hair will make people respectable. 
 
 In His own time the light of the world, panoplied with 
 power, will come to dethrone the prince of darkness and hurl 
 him into the depths from whence he came. When his reign is 
 fully established the regime in which Americans, by withhold- 
 ing the right of suffrage, class their mothers, wives, sisters 
 
104 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 and sweethearts with the irresponsible and dangerous elements 
 of society, minors, criminals, and idiots, will pass away. It is 
 possible, if not probable, that in the new kingdom the equality 
 of the sexes will be recognized and the inequalities existing in 
 man-made governments will be unknown. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 105 
 
 ^l7arlG^'s ©AjolDGal. 
 
 Oh, lay my head upon your bosom fair, 
 
 Oh, plow, with slender hands, my yellow hair, 
 
 Oh, kiss me once again; 
 
 Why laugh in scorn, despite the swelling sigh 
 
 Wrung from white lips, too proud to cry, 
 
 Though in the throes of pain. 
 
 If you could know that in my stainless soul, 
 I deem your love my chiefest earthly goal. 
 Your cup of bliss would surely overflow. 
 If you could know my dream of coming joy 
 Is your dear self, your love without alloy. 
 Your spirits would not droop so low. 
 
 If you could see, beneath my towering pride, 
 The love that runs to meet an answering tide 
 And knows no changing ebb and flow; 
 If you could know the burden of my song 
 In social whirl, or sleepless hours so long, 
 You would not fear and doubt me so. 
 
 I, from loves thralldom, nevermore am free, 
 But cannot bend, too oft, the suople knee. 
 
106 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 And pour denials in the ear of doubt. 
 Why can't you see that in my inner soul, 
 There bides a changeless love, intense and whole. 
 That puts all other loves to rout? 
 
 You know me well, 'tis strange you can not see, 
 
 That my imperious love, so proud and free, 
 
 Will backward flow, when wrongly scourged and fought, 
 
 And will not bear a doubter's stinging lash. 
 
 Doubt ever tends, when baseless, cruel, rash. 
 
 To breed contempt, where purest love has wrought. 
 
 With lowering brow you hear me chide and pray, 
 
 Your doubts have won; so turn in wrath away, 
 
 Uncaring that I pray in vain; 
 
 " Oh, lay my head upon your bosom fair. 
 
 Oh, plow, with slender hands, my yellow hair, 
 
 Oh, kiss me once again." 
 
 The girl who held my helpless hands to-night. 
 
 In the full glare of the electric light. 
 
 And, though I struggled, kissed me too. 
 
 Was Cousin Gene just home from boarding school 
 
 You'll learn, I think, when warring passions cool, 
 
 That what she wills she finds a way to do. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVELLLE. 107 
 
 Some (^l^risimcis ^l70u^l7fs eAbouf @i\)in^. 
 
 Christmas is here and hearts are heavy or light according to 
 circumstances. I hope our christian people will enjoy the 
 day and imitate one who went about doing good in whose 
 honor it is named. Men who don't feel liberal when Christ- 
 mas comes are sure enough misers and beyond redemption. 
 Somehow the desire to give dominates christianized men on 
 Christmas Day, as on no other, and the inclination to love and 
 be helpful is very strong in those who are not wholly selfish. 
 There is something in the day which broadens men and opens 
 closed, ungenerous, hearts. The custom of giving is a beauti- 
 ful one where the motives are worthy, but it may be, and often 
 is, abused by people who are not experts. 
 
 A gift, where love animates the giver, is a sacred thing, and 
 is never given with the expectation of receiving an equivalent. 
 The man who gives, in that spirit, does not give, he simply 
 makes an investment. Those who receive real gifts, however 
 insignificant, should appreciate them for the sake of the givers. 
 
 Many gifts are either worthless or inconvenient, but where 
 they are given in the right manner are highly prized by those 
 who receive them. The offerings of the poor are often value- 
 less, in a money sense, but they represent love and sacrifice, 
 
108 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 and are weightier than the gifts of princes that are prompted 
 by the love of display or the hope of reward. The gifts 
 of children, often grotesque and inappropriate and seldom 
 valuable, are evidences of childhood's simple faith and the 
 will to manifest, by giving, the love that desires to bestow 
 favors. 
 
 It is unkind, if not vulgar and unchristian, for those who 
 have received many or costly presents to display them vaunt- 
 ingly to those who have been neglected. Somehow a sensi- 
 tive woman or child — even a man, with his masterful contempt 
 for trifles — feels neglect keenly and does not like to be over- 
 looked by the queer looking old gentleman, who drives the 
 reindeers, when he makes his annual distribution, and their 
 hearts are heavy when they see others receiving so many 
 expressions of love while they receive none. It is not so much 
 the lack of gifts that troubles sensitive people as the fact that 
 they are not in the thoughts of others. 
 
 The children of the rich or liberal should say very little, 
 about what they have received, before the children of the poor 
 or illiberal who have received nothing. Oh, how many eyes 
 are red; how many voices are tremulous; how many hearts 
 are aching, in our land to-day because little hands are empty. 
 
 The unremembered or neglected women and children whose 
 stockings have been overlooked and hang unfilled on the 
 walls — where they were hung in hope — appeal very strongly 
 to my sympathy. I may be in error, but I believe that while 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 109 
 
 men, who are so poor that they cannot give, are excusable, men 
 who have well-filled purses and the ability to gladden their 
 wives and children by bestowing little proofs of love and 
 remembrance upon them, but do not do so, are either thought- 
 less or cruel, or both, and justly fall in the estimation of those 
 they are honor-bound to make happy in every proper way. I 
 am not authority on hell, but incline to the opinion that it is a 
 place where love never comes with its gentle ministrations, 
 and where selflessness is unknown. The heart of a selfish man, 
 who never considers the needs and pleasures of others, is such 
 a place, and I would sound a note of warning to those who 
 never take other people into their lives or calculations, who, 
 if they would, fly from the wrath to come, must make room in 
 their hearts for love and its offspring. 
 
 The knowledge that somebody loves and remembers makes 
 gifts precious, and, when none are received, it seems to the 
 average mortal that he is not in the thoughts or affections of 
 others. 
 
 There are some good men who are opposed to observing 
 Christmas. These, of course, are not expected to observe the 
 customs that give the day its distinctive character. 
 
 There are many fathers and husbands who have no money 
 to buy presents and feel genuine sorrow because those they 
 love must be passed by. For the generous poor, who have 
 nothing but the will, there is a valid excuse, but for the stingy 
 rich and well-to-do, who have everything but the will, there is 
 
110 FECm TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 no excuse, unless they have conscientious scruples about giv- 
 ing on special days. 
 
 I know no more about the actual date of Christ's birth than 
 a hippopotamus does about Calvin's Institutes, and this fact 
 ought to be explained, over and over again, as there is a 
 tendency to give Christmas an importance and sacredness that 
 docs not belong to it. I can approximate very nearly the 
 nativity, but the exact day of the advent is unknown. While I 
 do not know the precise time that God's best gift to man 
 reached the earth, I do know that, wherever Christian civiliza- 
 tion has gone, Christmas is a perpetual witness of one who 
 exalted the humble, raised the fallen, and gave Himself for 
 others. 
 
 Men can not give direct to Him, for He walks no more 
 among men as he did centuries ago, but the poor are always 
 with them and they can give to them, and by so doing give to 
 Him. When the rich and proud rejected Him the poor and 
 the humble received Him. When palace doors were shut 
 against Him he sat as a loved and honored guest in the homes 
 of the common people. The Christ who knew hunger, weari- 
 ness and thirst, remembers those who, in their poverty, did 
 what they could for Him, and has committed the poor as a 
 sacred charge to His representatives, and woe unutterable will 
 come to those who neglect them or refuse to help them bear 
 the burdens that are pressing them down. 
 
 If all, who can, will give something rivers of delight will flow. 
 
FB03I TAPS TILL REVEILLE. HI 
 
 with ever-increasing volume, through the arid plains of our 
 storm-beaten world and songs of hope will drown the cries of 
 despair. If the fault-finding, unsentimental husbands, who have 
 nothing that gleams like gold, will kiss the furrowed brows 
 and withered lips of the wives who have grown old and hag- 
 gard in faithful service as they did before age blighted the 
 roses of youth, faded faces will freshen again. If fretful, care- 
 worn wives will give old-time caresses and words of faith and 
 tenderness to the husbands that, unthought of and uncared 
 for, have toiled, fruitlessly it may be, for them through long 
 and weary years, dead loves will come to life, and harmony 
 build up what discord has torn down. 
 
 Jesus Christ is loVe and love is heaven. The unfailing test 
 of love is giving. Somehow I believe that when the unending 
 Christmas dawns upon the earth, that before it breaks will feel 
 His transforming power, men will be like Him, Darkness and 
 contention will disappear from their abodes and sunshine will 
 pour its golden floods into homes where peace reigns undis- 
 turbed and across whose portals the twin devils of doubt and 
 despair wi-11 pass outward forevermore. Love, radiant as the 
 sun, will drive dark browed hate into the nether depths, from 
 whence he came, and out of the scattered fragment of a war- 
 ring race create a common brotherhood in which each will 
 serve his brother rather than himself. 
 
 The day is fast approaching when men will give, not gold 
 
112 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 alone, but love and sympathy, like the princely giver, whose 
 advent we this day celebrate. 
 
 I wish the old men, who lean heavily upon their staffs as 
 they approach the boundary of shadow land; the old women, 
 who are patiently waiting for the clouds to rift and the gates 
 to open; the stalwart men and strong women, who seldom 
 think of the line that divides mortal and immortal worlds, over 
 which all must pass, or of the clouds that hide from home- 
 bound pilgrims the gates of gold; the sanguine boys and girls, 
 so full of life, love, and hope, who see, far in advance, a cloud- 
 less noon and a night aflame with stars; the unfortunate, the 
 misunderstood and the unhappy, with those who face disaster, 
 endure contempt and fight pain, "A Merry Christmas and a 
 Happy New Year." I surely wish, though I dare not hope, 
 that every stocking, big or little, patched or unpatched, that 
 hangs on the wall of a wayside cabin, or an urban palace, may 
 be filled to overflowing. 
 
 If some who have enough, and to spare, will go in Christ's 
 name, among the outcasts and into the haunts of the vicious, 
 where debauched men and shameless women indulge in ruin- 
 ous excesses, or sit in mute despair and pray' for death, in 
 search of those who have no stockings to hang up, and sur- 
 prise them by giving, what they do not expect, it may be that 
 some, who are ready to curse God and die, will thank Him for 
 sending love into the world and bless the messengers who 
 brought its tokens into the depths and made them luminous. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 113 
 
 I^oberf and fl7G Sfar. 
 
 He sat and watched the silent stars, 
 
 Parade the azure sky, 
 Saw Venus bright and regnant Mars, 
 
 Above the hill top high, 
 Saw in the depths, far, far away. 
 
 In the enchanting light. 
 A little star that seemed astray 
 
 To haunting human sight, 
 I watched his thoughtful baby face 
 
 Toward my own upturned, 
 And heard him tell, with childish grace 
 
 The lesson he had learned. 
 
 "Some stars are big and some are small, 
 
 And none too old to grow; 
 My teacher says God made them all 
 
 To shine on us below, 
 I think the tiny, baby star 
 
 With such a feeble light 
 Is younger than the one afar 
 
 That twinkles all the night. 
 If it is old, why does it not 
 
 Laugh with the rest 'till dawn? 
 It must be young, or God forgot 
 
 To put the twinkles on." 
 
114 ' FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 @ene. 
 
 So Gene is dead! Beautiful, wayward, faithless Gene. The 
 man who wrecked her young life walks unchallenged among 
 men and women, who never loved "not wisely but too well," 
 do him reverence. She met death by violence, and left her 
 friends a heritage of dishonor. 
 
 I have read somewhere that God is merciful; and 'tis said by 
 those who saw her in the morgue, that He burnished anew her 
 locks of gold, and brought back to her pain-riven, passion- 
 swept face the sunny smile of her sinless youth. The placid 
 brow, the sleeping eye-lids, and the pouting lips, gave no hint 
 of lawless love and unholy living, but were mute and eloquent 
 witnesses of her innocence before she dallied with lust, and, in 
 her delirium, exchanged the — 
 
 "Lilies and languors of virtue for the roses and raptures of vice." 
 
 Men spoke lightly of the dead Magdalene, and women 
 shuddered at the mention of her shame; but may we not hope 
 that He who. stooping, wrote in the sand and sat upon the 
 well at Sychar will remember her great temptation and the 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 115 
 
 unequal contest she waged with those who "set traps for the 
 unwary." May He not remember that once she belie\ed in 
 Him and called Him by name, and in His matchless mercy, 
 forg-ive His errine child. 
 
116 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 lorriG pamous Paf C/9omGn. 
 
 In big, fat arms young Nero slept, 
 Ere he was crowned and martyrs wept. 
 
 The sensuous "Serpent of the Nile," 
 Was fat and crafty, bright and vile. 
 
 Famed Petrarch's Laura, fat and fair, 
 Had dimpled cheeks and sunny hair. 
 
 Shapely but fat — pray don't forget, — 
 Was queenly, gracious Antoinette. 
 
 Fair Flamminetto, fat and tall, 
 Boccacio loved the best of all. 
 
 The virgin queen, with coarse red hair. 
 Was fat and fickle, vain and fair. 
 
 Though feared by priest and diplomat, 
 Queen Marg'rite of Navarre was fat. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 117 
 
 So, too, were those so famous grown, 
 Whose graces Rubens well has shown. 
 
 Like Russia's Catharine, fat and tall, 
 Were Titian's beauties, one and all. 
 
 Napoleon's cast-off Josephine, 
 Was fat, and fussy too, I ween. 
 
 Fat, too, was one well known to fame. 
 The Madame Roland none could tame. 
 
 Napoleon braved, could but despise 
 The proud DeStael so fat and wise. 
 
 George Sand, who with the scorners sat. 
 Was brave and brilliant, smart and fat. 
 
 Fat, too, the wise Castilian queen, 
 Who sailed her ships to shores unseen. 
 
 Like her who rules, beyond the sea. 
 Our English kinsman, brave and free. 
 
 And him, who trails fresh items down. 
 And gathers news for all the town. 
 
118 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 ^oW to ISg17gi\)g af a ^q\q\. 
 
 Mv Dear Charlie: 
 
 I understand you intend to leave this summer and feel dis- 
 posed to offer some suggestions as to your conduct at the 
 hotels you may*honor with your presence. 
 
 Always speak patronizingly to the proprietor of the estab- 
 lishment where you may stop, and authoratively to the clerk. 
 Unless you do this they may not fully realize your importance 
 A great many widely traveled men are careless and indifferent 
 about the impressions they make and some are thoughtless 
 enough to talk familiarly with the clerks. 
 
 Never buy but one postage stamp at a time and never offer 
 less than a dollar in making payment. Men who buy several 
 stamps at once, and offer exact change when paying for them, 
 are too considerate of the clerk, who ought to be kept bus)^ so 
 that on Saturday night he can draw his salary with a clear con- 
 science. 
 
 Whenever you can do so get the bell boy to run errands 
 when his services are needed at the hotel. Never, under any 
 circumstances, hire him to go on a trip when he is at leisure or 
 is not needed by the proprietor or other guests. Landlords 
 and ladies are paid for the accommodations they furnish, and 
 should be put to all the trouble and inconvenience possible. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 The guests expect to be disappointed and will be if they are 
 not. 
 
 Never go to your meals on time. Undignified people, and 
 those who are busy, do that. If everthing is placed before you, 
 fresh from the kitchen and steaming hot, you will have little 
 cause for complaint, and if you don't want to be commonplace 
 you must grumble, not only at the food, but the manner in 
 which it is served. 
 
 Hotel keepers should be reminded frequently, and in strong 
 language, that they do not render equivalents and are not 
 .giving satisfaction. They should be kept humble and not be 
 allowed to put on airs, as they are liable to do. Gather up all 
 the newspapers and periodicals in sight and keep them until 
 you have read them. Others may want to read, too, and may 
 be impudent enough to say so and suggest that you divide up, 
 but you must, at all hazards, stand firm. They can wait, and 
 should be compelled to do so. Possession is nine points in law, 
 though the possessor is a hog. You can add a great deal to 
 the general discomfort of your fellow guests by taking the 
 papers to your room. Some ill-bred people may object, but 
 you should not allow yourself to be influenced by them. 
 
 Never graciously accept any explanation or apology that 
 may be offered by the proprietor or any of his employes. 
 Though you may be satisfied that no blame can justly attach 
 to any of them, give them to understand that you have been 
 outrageously treated and will devote the remainder of your life 
 
120 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 to ruining their hotel and diverting trade to their competitors. 
 
 Make it convenient to talk incessantly in the reading room, 
 where drummers and others are writing important letters and 
 making out orders and reports. Drummers are said to be very 
 fastidious about little things and may intimate that "Silence is 
 golden" and that "Your room is better than your company," 
 and may even go so far as to tell you that the office, and not 
 the reading room, is the place for linguistic exhibitions and 
 encounters, but you must stand up for your rights and talk 
 right on whether any body listens or not. Drummers are all 
 right in their places, but what right have they to dictate to a. 
 young man of elegant leisure on a pleasure trip? Do every- 
 thing you can — with safety — to annoy them, when they want 
 quiet and seclusion, and you may depend on their hatred and 
 contempt "without money and without price," and may feel 
 sure that by your impertinence you have made the hotel odious 
 to them. 
 
 If, at any time, you see the clerk balancing his accounts or 
 busy assigning rooms to new arrivals, do your level best to 
 draw him into a private conversation. If he shows a disposi- 
 tion to ignore your efforts, get highly indignant, and if you are 
 confident that you are a better man physically than he is, tell 
 him that he is no gentleman and advise him to go to some 
 school of politeness and learn good manners, and then suggest 
 to the proprietor that a change in his office force will increase 
 his business a' hundred fold. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 121 
 
 If you intend staying several days be careful not to say any- 
 thing about rates, when you register, and call for the best room 
 in the hotel. When you settle demand the lowest weekly rates. 
 If the clerk suggests that, in the absence of any agreement to 
 the contrary, it was expected that you would pay the usual 
 rates for transient guests, and that less desirable room are 
 usually furnished weekly and monthly customers at boarding 
 house prices, work yourself into a passion and insist that you 
 did make arrangements, and if he does not do as you want him 
 to, go to the proprietor and insist upon your rights. Tell him 
 you don't propose to be robbed and that his clerk is an ass 
 any way. 
 
 While you are in town cultivate with great assiduity the 
 acquaintance of the unemployed and have your friends call 
 regularly and take possession of the office and reading room, 
 A great many people think that the chairs in a hotel are for 
 guests, but this is not so. They are for the use of those who 
 board elsewhere and spend their leisure in discussing local 
 affairs in public places. Guests who pay $2 a day are able to 
 furnish their own chairs. 
 
 Always give your orders to servants in an indistinct tone 
 and abuse them roundly if they do not understand. Never tell 
 one exactly what you want him to do, but, if he does not do it, 
 report him to the proprietor and insist that he be dismissed at 
 once for incompetency. Servants are employed for guests to 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 brow beat and you will be expected to spit venom at them on 
 every occasion that presents itself. 
 
 When you are in the company of other guests never express 
 an opinion until you have found out what they believe, then 
 take the opposite view. If they are christians quote Ingersoll and 
 assert that Tom Paine was the greatest man the infant republic 
 ever knew. If they are Republicans vilify Grant and declare 
 that Lincoln was a mountebank and deserved martyrdom. If 
 they are prohibitionists tell them that the liquor interest over- 
 stops all others and that whiskey dealers have done more for 
 the United States than any other set of men. 
 
 By so doing you will precipitate heated discussions and 
 make yourself a nuisance generally, which will intensify your 
 personality and make you conspicuous. If any one shows a 
 disposition to be friendly and enlighten you about the crops 
 and the state of the weather, snub him — provided he is one of 
 the snubable kind. If he resents the snub, exhibits symptoms 
 of belligerency, and is well muscled or handy with a gun 
 pacify him by all means and be profuse in your apologies if 
 necessary. 
 
 By following my advice you will do your part toward mak- 
 ing men weary of the world and worldly things and thus 
 prepare them to pray for the speedy coming of the Kingdom 
 of Heaven. 
 
FROM TAPS JILL REVEILLE. 
 
 I'm (^ornin^, |slev)er pear. 
 
 I pray you pretty one so young and fair 
 With sunshine nestling in your sunny hair, 
 Come go with me this bright spring day 
 To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
 The answer came, in sweet tones soft and clear, 
 I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 
 
 The years rolled on and she, a woman grown. 
 Was reaping, here and there, as she had sown; 
 1 saw her once again; Oh I she was wondrous fair. 
 With sunshine nestling in her sunny hair, 
 Come go with me this glorious Summer day 
 To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
 The answer came, in sweet tones soft and clear, 
 I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 
 
 The years rolled on and she, still older grown. 
 
 Was reaping, here and there, as she had sown; 
 
 I saw her care-worn face that yet was wondrous fair, 
 
 The white threads sleeping in her sunny hair. 
 
 Come go with me this radiant Autunni day 
 
 To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
 
 The answer came, in tones yet soft and clear, 
 
 I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 
 
124 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 The years rolled on and she, more aged grown, 
 Was reaping, here and there, as she had sown; 
 I saw the wrinkled face that once was wondrous fair. 
 The sunbeams resting on her snowy hair; 
 Come go with me this storm-swept Winter day 
 To our dear Sunday-school across the way. 
 The answer came, in tones once soft and clear, 
 I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear. 
 
 I pray you pretty one so young and fair 
 With sunshine nestling in your sunny hair. 
 Come go with me this bright Spring day 
 To our dear Sunday-school across the way; 
 Come now, say not in sweet tones soft and clear: 
 " I really wish I could, I'm coming, never fear." 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 125 
 
 growing ©Id. 
 
 There comes a time in every man's life when he realizes that 
 his physical charms are passing away, and that he must depend 
 on other resources to secure the notice and esteem of an 
 exacting public. His hoary head and bent back, his shrunken 
 hands and furrowed cheeks may be pathetic in their sugges- 
 tions, and excite pity, but they will not charm unless they are 
 witnesses of a blameless and self-sacrificing life. 
 
 A beautiful soul makes a radiant face, to which people 
 instinctively turn with love and admiration, though it may 
 show the tracery of age and pain. 
 
 One of the questions men are perpetually discussing is: 
 How can a man be attractive after he has passed his meridian? 
 As a rule, when a man begins to feel the ravages of years his 
 mental state changes for the worse and his spiritual fervor, if 
 he has any, abates or varies with his moods. When he is in 
 perfect health, and his faculties are unimpaired, he has no 
 experimental knowledge of physical pain and is optimistic 
 in his philosophy. When sleep come unsought, and sleepless 
 hours, and the nightmares of so many troubled sleepers, are 
 unknown to him, his days are tranquil and full of peace and 
 hope, but when age and disease beget insomnia and continuous 
 
126 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 depression and suffering, he becomes hypochondriachal and 
 pessimistic. Life becomes a monotonous round of fatiguing 
 duties and cruel disappointments, and unless he possesses the 
 rarest of all gifts — a thankful and contented disposition, — he 
 becomes hopeless. A hopeless man is a mad man. The folly 
 of the man who thinks years constitute lite, and that age, 
 characterless age, should command reverence is astounding. 
 Age can be beautiful, and youth will bow to it, if there is 
 something in it to beget leverence and inspire confidence, 
 but it may be so monstrous and repellant that the pure 
 minded will turn from it with horror. One of the most 
 repulsive things known to human vision — pitiful and affecting 
 though it may be — is an old man whose thoughts are unclean, 
 whose language is foul and whose face indexes a leprous soul 
 and life; who is, even on the verge of the grave, a libertine and 
 a debauchee. The winter of life should be as serene and 
 beautiful as an Italian sky when no clouds obscure its 
 benignant face. 
 
 The man upon whose head the "snows that never melt are 
 falling," and whose back is bending under the ever increasing 
 burdens of life should cultivate the graces of the spirit and sit 
 as a willing disciple at the feet of the Great Teacher. He 
 should, in every way possible, increase his stock of mental 
 supplies and enlarge his spiritual capacities if he expects to 
 be a recognized factor in social, political, and religious circles, 
 and meet grim-fronted death, with a peaceful mind and a 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 127 
 
 smiling face, when the curtains are ready to fall, and the last 
 act in the drama of life is on. 
 
 Truth is a fountain of youth, a perennial beautifier, a divine 
 elixir, and he who holds and lives it will never be out of touch 
 with the purest and best of his kind. Sensuous grace and 
 beauty may depart, when the shadows lengthen and the light 
 grows dim, but a sense of spiritual power and companionship 
 will remain. It will not forsake him though he breasts alone, 
 the merciless river that frets its sunless banks and murmurs 
 against the gloom that overshadows it, but will abide, until its 
 floods roll behind, and he enters, unchallenged, the land of 
 perpetual youth. 
 
128 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 ^l7G biftle Mc\idGn's prater. 
 
 You buy me bananas and candies sweet, 
 And hold my hands whenever we meet — 
 
 You darhng impudent thing. 
 You swear that you love me night and day, 
 And make me as happy every way 
 
 As a "coon" with a chicken's wing. 
 
 You make me giggle from night till morn, 
 With almanac jokes, "all tattered and torn" — 
 
 You giddy, delightful clown. 
 You flirt with the girls to tease poor me, 
 And make me as wretched as I could be 
 
 If my hair were coming down. 
 
 You tickle my chin anil pull my nose, 
 
 Till I tremble and blush like a new-blown rose- 
 
 You lovely, presumptuous tease. 
 You tousle my hair and rumple'my sash, 
 Till I feel like knocking you all to smash; 
 
 Don't do so often, please, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 129 
 
 Business I^ales. 
 
 Employes are expected to come late and leave early, 
 
 Any one keeping regular hours and making any effort to 
 master the details of business will be suspected of sinister 
 designs and peremptorily discharged. 
 
 The janitor must quarrel with the office boy as often as possi- 
 ble during business hours and read the papers while the pro- 
 prietor carries in coal and sweeps the floor. 
 
 Any one who does not abuse the management, and betray 
 the secrets he may be entrusted with, will be considered devoid 
 of spirit and instructed to call for his time. 
 
 Any one treating the manager with courtesy will show a 
 spirit of meanness and subordination that will not be tolerated 
 and notified that his services are no longer needed. 
 
 Any employe not drawing his salary in advance and taking 
 days off in the busy season, without notice, will be expected 
 to resign, to escape the humiliation of a dismissal. 
 
 Mercantile establishment arc equipped and run for the 
 accommodation of employes and managers are employed for 
 them to abuse when not engaged in neglecting business. 
 
 Every employe must do every thing in his or her power to 
 antagonize the people who, with considerate treatment, may 
 
IMO FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 be induced to patronize the house or direct their friends to it. 
 
 Employes are required to cultivate the acquaintance of the 
 frivolous and impecunious and ignore, or treat with contempt, 
 the solid and influential who may buy or can influence trade. 
 
 Any one answering important correspondence at the proper 
 time, or making enrries in the books in an orderly manner, 
 will display too much knowledge and consideration and will 
 be notified to quit at once. 
 
 Any lady clerk who meets a customer promptly and dis- 
 cusses the merits of goods, in a business like way, instead of 
 flirting with the dudes, who may drop in or pass by, will dis- 
 play too much enterprise and too little sentiment and her 
 place will be declared vacant. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVELLLE. 131 
 
 fp[?G (^all. 
 
 The call to strike sounds o'er the wires 
 
 From Eastern coast unto the Golden Gate. 
 Shall men obey and fan the smouldering hres, 
 
 Arouse the murderous force of human hate? 
 They know that giant wrongs prevail and feel 
 
 That toil don't always reap a fair reward; 
 That greed unheeding stands while men appeal 
 
 And shows the suppliant's cry but scant regard. 
 
 Some men, begirt with piles of gleaming gold, 
 
 Reck not of dangers toilers sometimes know; 
 Weep not when hunger's piteous tale is told. 
 
 Nor for the workman's galling want and woe. 
 But shall men leave the engines and the shops, 
 
 Forsake the lines that stretch from sea to sea? 
 When roads shut down, and crippled commerce stops. 
 
 Where will their brimming "Horns of Plenty" be? 
 
 When times are hard, with stealthy, noiseless, tread 
 
 Sore famine comes and stalks through stricken lands 
 Or sits enthroned where men, in voiceless dread. 
 
132 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 In silence brood and fold their bony hands; 
 Or, wrathful, hear their loved ones' piercing wail, 
 
 See filthy rags enshroud their shrunken forms, 
 With glaring eyes and features pinched and pale. 
 
 They call for war— invoke Mar's deadly storms. 
 
 The solemn vows, where money weds with toil, 
 Should blend the two in purpose and in thought; 
 
 And they, made one, in struggle and turmoil, 
 
 Should bear the burdens troubled years have brought. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 1?!3 
 
 fpl7e PriGsi and \\}^ Mad (^ap. 
 
 A mad cap fair, with yellow hair, 
 Met a priest upon the stair. 
 
 Where the light was dim; 
 Though she cried, away! away! 
 He so gallant, bold and gay. 
 
 Squeezed her with a vim. 
 
 Holding high her dainty gown. 
 She was tripping gaily down. 
 
 Where the light was dim; 
 Wondering why a lover's kiss 
 Filled anew her cup of bliss. 
 
 When she thought of him. 
 
 When the carpet caught her boot. 
 She could nothing do but scoot. 
 
 Screaming down the stairs; 
 Toiling upward, worn and weary, 
 Came the father, faint but cheery, 
 
 Like an angel unawares. 
 
 Round his massive neck inclined, 
 8nowy arms were fast entwined. 
 
134 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Where the light was dim; 
 Out of mind the lovers kiss, 
 Gone the brimming cup of bliss 
 
 Of the maiden slim. 
 
 Ere he donned the priestly robes 
 And applied the moral probes, 
 
 To his love pugnacious; 
 He had hugged a village belle 
 Hugged her often, hugged her well, 
 Says a scribe veracious. 
 
 When the mad cap, wild with fright. 
 Falling, calling, through the night, 
 
 Headed down the stair; 
 He recalled the village beauty. 
 Cursed the trumpet call of duty. 
 
 Ringing in the air. 
 
 Cursed the Bishop and the Pope, 
 Cloister, sack cloth, knotted rope, 
 
 And his vows infernal; 
 When she fell into his arms, 
 Conscience rang no dread alarms 
 
 Brought him bliss supernal. 
 
 He, oft wrapped in meditation, 
 
 O'er the problems of creation, 
 
 And the ways of Eve; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 135 
 
 Thought not of a races' glory, 
 Whose traditions, old and hoary. 
 
 He, with facts, could interweave. 
 
 He forgot that woman fell, 
 Opening wide the way to hell. 
 
 When the world was young, 
 Tempted men throughout the ages, 
 Conquered censors, priests and sages. 
 
 With the songs she sung. 
 
 He forgot that legends old, 
 Faded parchments fold on fold. 
 
 Told the ruin woman wrought; 
 And that weak, despairing man. 
 Ever since the race began 
 
 'Gainst her wiles had fought. 
 
 Forgot the legends, weird and old, 
 Forgot the parchments fold on fold 
 
 And monkish dreams of duty; 
 Although she cried away! away I 
 He so gallant grown and gay 
 
 Paid tribute to her beauty. 
 
 Mad cap fair, with yellow hair. 
 Tumbling headlong down the stair, 
 
136 
 
 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Where the Hght is dim; 
 Why cry out away! away! 
 When a father, bold and gay, 
 
 Hugs you with a vim? 
 
 Trembling woman calm your fears, 
 Why should you dissolve in tears, 
 
 When he says 'tis well? 
 Fathers grave, with pallid faces, 
 Wisdom rare and courtly graces. 
 
 Sometimes hug but never tell, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 1:^7 
 
 IdMq Ben ^read. 
 
 Oh, a wanton boy was little Ben Tread, 
 With a gangling form and pear-shaped head; 
 He was lazy and thriftless and cruel, too, 
 A graceless scamp — with nothing to do. 
 He loafed on corners and ran the streets, 
 A brawler and loafer with toughs and beasts. 
 An object of loathing, with too much breath, 
 Thought those who prayed for his early death. 
 
 He frightened the horses from out of town 
 And tossed poor tabby up and down. 
 He rocked the cow on the public way. 
 And deviled her baby the live-long day. 
 He made too free with the puppy's tail 
 And crushed, with his heel, the tiny snail; 
 He mangled the birds in the garden tree 
 And watched them writhing with fiendish glee. 
 
 But one dark morn, in the waning fall, 
 
 When harvests were gathered, apples and all, 
 
 He scaled the fence of a farm-house near, 
 
 To worry a farmer with doubt and fear; 
 
 He scattered his turkeys and chickens and sheep. 
 
FROM TAJ'S TILL REVEILLE 
 
 But a billy goat butted him into a heap, 
 And death reached down for a silly fool 
 When he twisted the tail of a sleepy mule. 
 
 They nailed him up in a wooden box, 
 And carted him over the ruts and rocks 
 To a gloomy place where ghouls have birth, 
 And planted him deep in the wormy earth. 
 Xo good folks sobbed, or moaned or cried 
 When the amateur Nero fell and died, 
 But they decked with garlands the sleepy nmle 
 Who used his heels on a silly fool. 
 
 They gave his owner his weight in gold, 
 And pensioned the mule so sleepy and old; 
 They built him a palace, cool and nice. 
 And tempered his drink with pounded ice. 
 Hut the colic came and the mule lay dead 
 One Summer day in his perfumed bed. 
 And the cries of the mourners swept the land 
 Like the wailing dirge of a county band. 
 
 A towering shaft marks well the grave 
 Of the valorous mule love could not save, 
 And every morn, where he sleeps alone, 
 The yearlings cry, and sob, and moan. 
 And every noon, where his body lies, 
 Gray pilgrims come with swimming eyes 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE 139 
 
 To weep for the hero of vanished years 
 And water his bones with their falling tears. 
 
 When twilight calls to the coming night, 
 The songbirds come in the changing light, 
 And sitting atilt in the gathering gloom, 
 On a swaying branch, where the roses bloom. 
 They sing of the loved one lying there 
 Through the starless night and the noonday fair 
 And sigh, as they dream in some sheltering tree. 
 Of the silent sleeper that set them free. 
 
 Oh, you who are cruel to beast or bird, 
 Think well of the story you have heard 
 And avoid the fate of the silly fool, 
 Who twisted the tail of a sleepy mule. 
 
UO FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 aAr\ ©Appeal for oAbsiin^nce. 
 
 I can not send this book adrift without making a personal 
 appeal to my readers in behalf of abstinence from drink. The 
 Modern Juggernaut is the rum power and the Minotaur of our 
 century is the saloon. 
 
 In thirty years of travel and observation among men and 
 women of various kinds, from naked savages to those who 
 wear purple and fine linen, I have seen enough to change 
 me from an indifferent observer into an uncompromising 
 enemy of the liquor traffic. While I hate the business as I 
 hate the devil, I do not hate the men who are engaged in it, 
 or the unfortunates who have fallen into the depths. Many 
 saloon keepers are beneath the contempt of decent men, but 
 others are not. Their moral education has been improper or 
 incomplete. They reason from false premises and, reaching 
 conclusions satisfactory to themselves, follow their callings 
 with untroubled consciences. They do not fully comprehend 
 the extent of the evil they are inflicting upon the public, or 
 realize the sweeping force of the inspired declaration that 
 those who sow to the wind will reap the whirlwind. I do not 
 purpose to quarrel with those who hold contrary views and 
 patronize the saloons. I think they are misguided and indulg- 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 ing a dangerous habit, and have never measured the far-reach- 
 ing and demoralizing effect of their actions. Abuse is not 
 argument, and as long as men are fallible the advocates of 
 temperance should make liberal allowances for inherited weak- 
 nesses and beliefs and the infirmities peculiar to fallen men. 
 
 Those who advocate the drinking customs of society bring 
 forward some reasons that are too puerile for intelligent 
 thinkers to consider. The desire to be in touch with others 
 and a companionable mixer, is a really commendable trait. 
 Many insist that the man who refuses to drink betrays phari- 
 seeism and will excite ridicule and anger and debar himself 
 from general society. I have refused hundreds of times and 
 remember two occasions, only, on which I made men angry. 
 
 At a hotel in a Central Kentucky town a man insisted 
 strenuously on my taking something, but I firmly and politely 
 refused. He became very indignant and told me about several 
 men that he had converted into masses of bloody pulp for 
 refusing to accept his invitation, and intimated that I was 
 liable to need the services of a surgeon if I persisted in being 
 obstinate. I did not yield, neither did I go to a hospital for 
 repairs. On the way from San Francisco to Panama a Ger- 
 man, who believed that real hospitality meant schooners of 
 beer, asked me to help him dispose of his stock on hand, and 
 when I thanked him for his invitation but declined it, he was 
 very wrathful and insisted that I had insulted him. By the 
 aid of a diagram I got him to understand that my failure to 
 
142 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 comply with his request was a matter of principle with me, 
 and that no affront was intended. I told him that if the 
 Queen had graciously invited me I would have acted towards 
 her as I did towards him. We were afterwards good friends. 
 The man who does not drink is barred out of many convivial 
 parties where toasts are drunk and the clinking of glasses 
 mingles with peals of merr\- laughter and snatches of rollick- 
 ing song, and his sensitive nature may cause him to feel his 
 comparative isolation very keenly, but he ought not let the 
 desire for popularit}' overcome his loyalty to piinciple. 
 
 It is claimed by many that by refusing to walk up to the 
 bar and take something with the boys a business man antago- 
 nizes sellers and drinkers too, and jeopardizes his business 
 interests. This claim has enough truth in it to have weight 
 with some people whose backbones are destitute of stiffness. 
 Saloon keepers do sometimes boycott men who oppose their 
 business, but I have too much faith in the integrity of human 
 nature and the hard horse sense of men who sell intoxicants, 
 and those men who buy them, to believe the assertion holds 
 in every case. 
 
 In business relations with men, sellers do not usually preach 
 sermons or air views on political, religious or social reforms. 
 The buyer wants the best goods, the lowest prices and the 
 most advantageous terms, and seldom cares anjlhing about 
 the peculiar notions of the seller. I think I would rather cart 
 swill through the public streets than count profits earned by 
 
FROM TAJ'S TILL REVEILLE. 14:] 
 
 sacrifice of principle, cowardice, and lying. The principle 
 that a man must conceal his opinions and endorse erroneous 
 views and practices, for gain, is vicious. The man who is all 
 things to all men, in the commonly accepted sense, is a hum- 
 bug and a liar, the incarnation of selfishness and deceit, as 
 those who get entangled in the meshes of the web he is weav- 
 ing will cheerfully testify. The human chameleon whose 
 views take on a different color every time he crosses a town- 
 ship line is unprincipled and a deceiver. 
 
 A man who will stultify himself, and resort to questionable 
 methods, to gain a customer will deceive a customer after he 
 has caught him, if he can. This is the conclusion of long- 
 headed men who regard the schemer with fear and disfavor in 
 all mercantile or business transactions. The man is craven- 
 hearted who will sacrifice his opinions, because by holding on 
 to them, he occasionally loses a sale. 
 
 It is established beyond controversy that in the land of per- 
 petual winter, and under tropical suns, abstainers — other things 
 being equal — exist where drinkers perish. 
 
 It is admitted that the saloon is Pandora's box with hope 
 left out — the unnatural mother of a degraded offspring — 
 drunkards, murderers, and social outcasts. She sows poverty 
 as a farmer sows oats, and is as indifferent to the ruin she has 
 wrought as a thug is to the struggles of the victims he has 
 strangled. .She lifts her defiant head in every land and thrusts 
 her murderous hand into every home. .She sheds no tears, 
 
144 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 utters no cries, when children, old and haggard before their 
 time, and women, scarred and shrunken, pass before her cry- 
 ing for bread or wailing over the debauched and dishonored 
 dead who wasted their substance within her walls and went 
 from her doors into pauper's graves and the "outer darkness." 
 
 The saloon is a hot-bed of anarchy, a dftspoiler of homes, 
 and a standing menace to the peace and prosperity of the 
 republic, and every man who contributes to its support aids in 
 the demoralization of public morals and in undermining the 
 foundations of our social system. 
 
 It enslaves the weak and preys upon the helpless, and from 
 its portals curses come in trqops. The poor, the abandoned, 
 the hungry and the helpless, with their ruined lives and wrecked 
 fortunes, appeal very strongly to my sympathy and sense 
 of justice and increase my determination to do all I can to stay 
 the merciless flood that engulfed them and is bearing down 
 upon others. 
 
 I have seen some of my associates, who were my sujieriors 
 in many ways, clothed in rags, reeking with filth and covered 
 with vermin, begging shamelessly on the highway. 
 
 I have seen a man whose voice rang strong and clear in the 
 council halls of the nation, who rode in the van of conquering 
 armies, staggering in the public streets of a great city. 
 
 I have seen a distinguished officer, one of the bravest men 
 Texas sent into the Southern army, begging in the streets of 
 Dallas. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 145 
 
 One of the foulest slanders ever hatched in the brain of 
 mediocrity, and published by lyin^ lips, is that the slaves of 
 drink are essentially without courage. Moral courage they 
 lack, will power they need, but in the ranks of the drunkards 
 of America, marching toward their final overthrow, are thous- 
 ands whose physical courage has been tested on many fields. 
 Passionless and calculating calumniators, who never feel the 
 power of a consuming passion or an evermastering appetite 
 can not submit to a comparison of heroic deeds, with them, 
 before an intelligent and impartial jury. 
 
 I have known women who bartered their homes and their 
 honor for rum, and children that would reel like ships in a 
 storm at sea. 
 
 I hate the saloon because it invades the home, and defense- 
 less women aud children suffer most from its ravages. Some- 
 how a woman is a sacred thing to me, and a child is almost 
 divine. 
 
 I can not forget the woman who carried me on her bosom 
 and loved me always; the woman who walked with me when 
 the sun was shining and stood by me when the clouds were 
 lowering; the little girl who grew weary and went from her 
 mother's arms to walk with God in his shining place, and as 
 long as I remember mother, wife and child I expect to stand 
 with my face towards everything that increases the suffering 
 and degradation of women and children, and assault it with 
 tongue and pen until I can battle no longer. 
 
14(1 FR<KV TAI'S TILL IIF.VKILLK 
 
 When I look upon the surging masses of homeless waifs, 
 who know hunger and thirst, nakedness and neglect, that the 
 saloon has emptied into the world; the pestilential brood that 
 swarms in the slums with gamblers, thieves and harlots swell- 
 ing the ranks of our criminal classes to overflowing, and think 
 of one who took little children in His arms and blessed them, 
 I realize the measureless infamy of the liquor traffic. 
 
 The hour for action has come, and Jesus demands that his 
 followers be thinkers and doers, not dreamers. Sometimes in 
 my dreams I sec hands that have touched my own beckoning 
 to me from a far country and hear voices that thrilled me in 
 the dear, dead i)ast, calling me to a higher life, but I simply 
 dream. I can not see the hands nor hear the voices. 
 
 It seems to me that we should li\e more in the present and 
 think less about the City of the King, with its gates of pearl, 
 and streets of gold, into which the church triumphant will 
 finally cnlcr. 1 believe in immortality, 1 feel its surgings in 
 my soul and it calls to me from the Sacred Book, but without 
 the help of the great Revealer I can know nothing of another 
 life. To me the future is a sealed book, an unsolved and 
 changeless mystery. I grope in the dark and ma}-, for aught 
 I know, tread on the verge of a mighty abyss, but as I thread 
 my way I search for the footprints of the Man of .Sorrows. If 
 I can find them, whether the\' lead me into the house of 
 mourning or the homes of the poor, to the wa)-side well or the 
 garden of sorrows, I will walk in them though I never see, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE 
 
 through rifting clouds, the hilltops of the better country or 
 the uplifted gates of the Eternal City. I will, with simple 
 faith, follow where He leads and leave my future with One 
 who cares for men's souls. 
 
 — -'^^m- 
 
 C/9l7en bife's bast ISaftl^ bosi 
 
 When life's last battle lost I lie at rest, 
 Neath springing grass and budding flowers. 
 Or gleaming mound of snow; 
 Will she, leal friend, who knew me best. 
 In sunless days and trouble-haunted hours, 
 Say o'er my senseless dust, "I loved him so?" 
 
 When my tired hands and aching head, 
 
 My breaking heart and weary feet, 
 
 Lie with the dead — unblessed; 
 
 Will she, with love's slow measured tread 
 
 Come to my grave, when light and darkness meet. 
 
 To. mourn the crumbling form she once caressed? 
 
 When men assail the proud but tarnished name, 
 My sealed, unanswering lips can not defend. 
 With utterance strong and free; 
 Will her unfailing love, despite my shame, 
 Glow with a fiercer heat, though storms impend, 
 To those who plead for me? 
 
14S FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 dAw ©Id Story. 
 
 Members of the Junior Baptist Young People's Union, let 
 me tell \'ou an old, old, story. 
 
 When Rome was contending for unixersal supremacy, a 
 famous general determined to have a grand review. Standing 
 on an eminence he commanded the advancing columns to pass 
 before him. First came the heroes of an hundred battles— the 
 hoary headed veterans of many wars. Their bent forms and 
 seamed faces and uncertain steps spoke eloquently of the past, 
 in which they had marched and fought under the Imperial 
 Standard. As they passed they shouted, "We have been 
 brave." The old general bowed his head and said, "Yes, 
 these have been brave, but they soon will perish, and then 
 what will become of my country?" 
 
 Then came with bronzed faces and towering forms and mar- 
 tial tread the mightiest warriors of the Empire, the mention 
 of whose fame and warlike deeds startled the nations, and as 
 they passed they shouted, "We are brave." The old general 
 bowed his head again and said, "Yes, these are brave, but 
 they soon will perish, and then what will become of my 
 country?" 
 
 Then was heard the rythmic patter of little feet, and before 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 149 
 
 the Great Commander marched, with colors flying, the sons of 
 those who constituted the pride and flower of the Roman 
 army, and as they marched they shouted in their childish 
 treble, "We will be brave." The old general lifted his droop- 
 ing head and said, "Yes, these will be brave and my country 
 is safe." 
 
 Many of the intellectual and moral men, who guided the 
 reformatory movements of the past, have fallen out of our 
 ranks. Many of our modern giants, with courage to defy and 
 power to overcome all opposition, have passed the meridian 
 of life and feel the nearness of 'physical decay. We are dis- 
 heartened when we realize this, but when we see the boys and 
 girls springing forward, with ready feet and willing hands to 
 snatch from falling standard-bearers their unfurled banners 
 and battle under and about them for "God and Home, and 
 Nativ^e Land," hope sings of victories yet to come. 
 
150 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Duncan— gA ^al( of '61. 
 
 Duncan's father, a Mexican veteran, loved the Union, but 
 when the crucial hour came he determined, as so many Virgin- 
 ians did, to champion the cause of the Confederacy. His 
 decision was reached with difficulty and after prayerful con- 
 sideration. When two loves are struggling for mastery, it is 
 difficult, sometimes, to decide which is the greater. Duncan, 
 his son, was a Union man, and arranged to join the Federal 
 army in camp not far away. He came in the night and bade 
 his father and mother good bye. His father's parting com- 
 mand was, " Duncan, my bo}', do your duty everywhere and 
 every da}', and when the awful war is ended, come home to 
 mother and mc, and we will talk it over." 
 
 Soon after his enlistment a detachment of Union soldiers 
 was lying in a valley waiting for night to fall, when they 
 intended to march against the Confederates and attack them 
 in the early morning. Duncan was on picket and fell asleep. 
 The penalty for sleeping on duty is death, but sleep is some- 
 times as irresistible as its twin sister. In his dreams, he 
 saw a white-haired horseman standing beside his horse and 
 looking down upon his comrades. .Something aroused him 
 
FRO.U TAI'S TILL REVEILLK 151 
 
 from his slumber and he saw, not a phantom, but a real horse- 
 man, in the twilight, watching the movements of the Federal 
 forces. If the scout was permitted to return to the Confed- 
 erate camp and give the alarm, the victory expected on the 
 morrow would be a defeat. He was unfamiliar with war and 
 its arbitrary demands upon men and shrank from what seemed 
 a duty. Although the prospect of shedding blood unnerved 
 him and he did not want to kill the scout, who, unconscious 
 of danger, was standing in easy range of his rifle, he did not 
 want to betray his comrades. To decide was difficult, but he 
 remembered the last words of his father and determined to do 
 his duty as it was revealed to him. The shot that saved an 
 army put a picket off duty fore\er. While the shadows deep- 
 ened a boy in blue bent over a man in grey and tenderly press- 
 ed the unanswering lips that a little while before had said 
 " Duncan, my boy, do your duty, ever\'where and every day. 
 
 Where the cedars tower starward 
 
 On a grim, Virginia hill, 
 Duncan heard the danger signal, 
 
 Sounding through the evening still; 
 Heard the muskets' thrilling treble. 
 
 And the cannons' muttered bass, 
 Rolling o'er the smiling valley, 
 
 And the mountain's sullen face. 
 
 In a little, terraced cottage, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Nestling in a valley sweet, 
 By a brooklet, Southward flowing. 
 
 Where the hills and valleys meet, 
 Sat a farmer, old and hoary, 
 
 Waiting for the coming night, 
 Thinking of the bannered armies, 
 
 Bravely marching to the fight. 
 
 Thinking, as the shadows lengthened, 
 
 Of the years — gone evermore, 
 When he heard his captain calling. 
 
 Through the battle's ceaseless roar; 
 Thinking of the tattered banner, 
 
 Tinged with blood, by heroes shed, 
 That he followed, never flinching, 
 
 Where his gallant leaders kd. 
 
 Thinking of the midnight marches, 
 
 Where the palm and cactus grow, 
 Of the flaming lines of battle. 
 
 Hurled aga-nst a daring foe; 
 Thinking of his comrades lying 
 
 In their calm, untroubled, sleep. 
 Where no marble tells their story, 
 
 Where no pilgrims come to weep. 
 
 Thinking of the great republic, 
 
 Stretching on from sea to sea, 
 
 Of the banner that he followed, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. J5P, 
 
 In his manhood strong and free; 
 Thinking, too, of old Virginia, 
 
 And her proud, historic, i^ast. 
 With her glory, yet untarnished, 
 
 That forevermore would last. 
 
 He had heard the bugles calling, 
 
 In the camps, not far away, 
 Where expectant hosts were massing, 
 
 For the nearing, deadly day; 
 He had prayed, in arched cathedral. 
 
 And in secret— bending low, 
 That his thoughts be wisely guided. 
 
 That his duty he might know. 
 
 Though he loved the giant nation. 
 
 Rising in the Western world, 
 And had fought with dauntless courage, 
 
 Where her standards were unfurled; 
 Dearer yet was old Virginia, 
 
 And his own, ancestral, halls. 
 When her foemen, strong and wrathful, 
 
 Stood upon her mountain walls. 
 
 Duncan came, when sombre shadows 
 Darkened earth, and sea, and sky. 
 To receive a mother's blessing. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE 
 
 Hear a father's last good-bye; 
 He was going, through the darkness, 
 
 Where the camp fires burning low, 
 Showed a starry banner flaunting, 
 
 Stern defiance at its foe. 
 
 Duncan, Duncan, God be with you, 
 
 Sobbed a mother, frail and o'd. 
 While an old man's hand, caressing. 
 
 Lingered on his locks of gold; 
 Passing outward, in the roadway, 
 
 Duncan heard his father say, 
 Duncan, Duncan, do your duty. 
 
 Everywhere and every day. 
 
 Arms are stacked and silence hovers, 
 O'er the Union men, at rest. 
 
 Who will form their broken columns. 
 When the sun is in the West; 
 
 From the valley, safely shadowed, 
 O'er the rugged mountain high. 
 
 They will march upon their foemen, 
 
 Sleeping, neath the leaden sky. 
 
 « 
 
 Duncan, worn and faint with watching. 
 
 On the guard line, fell asleep, 
 Leaving men exposed to danger. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE 155 
 
 While he lay in slumber deep; 
 In his sleep a phantom horseman, 
 
 Noiseless moving, robed in grey, 
 Watched the Union forces resting. 
 
 And the dying of the day. 
 
 Quickly waking from his slumbers, 
 
 Duncan saw a horseman tall, 
 Looking down upon his comrades. 
 
 Waiting for the trumpets call; 
 Though his stalwart form was bendinc 
 
 And his flowing hair was white, 
 He was every inch a soldier. 
 
 Standing in the changing light. 
 
 Must he shoot the silent horseman, 
 
 In the dim, uncertain, light. 
 Or betray his waiting comrades. 
 
 Ready for the morrow's fight; 
 Twice he raised his gleaming rifle. 
 
 Twice he, trembling, let it fall. 
 Something pleaded for the stranger, 
 
 Something questioned duty's call. 
 
 "Duncan, Duncan, do your duty. 
 
 Everywhere and every day," 
 Trembling lips of age had spoken, 
 
 He had heard and must obey; 
 Spoke his rifle, in the twilight, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 To the horseman, robed in grey, 
 Who lay dead, within the shadows, 
 At the dying of the day. 
 
 In a Httle, terraced, cottage, 
 
 Nestling in a valley sweet. 
 By a brooklet. Southward flowing. 
 
 Where the hills and valleys nieet, 
 Sits no farmer, old and hoary. 
 
 Waiting for the coming night. 
 Sits a widow, in ner sorrow, 
 
 Waiting for the morning light. 
 
 '^<^^' 
 
 lf^\}Q Summer @irl. 
 
 See my Summer girl, with her airy tread, 
 And the dream of a bonnet upon her head; 
 Oh, dainty she is, to my hungry eyes. 
 And brighter, I know, than Italia's skies; 
 She's a rose, a bloom, she's a lily fair, 
 And rivals the sunbeams that kiss her hair. 
 Oh, me! Oh, my! what a vision rare 
 In this grim old world of trouble and care. 
 
FIIOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 How sunny the face that beams on me, 
 
 That even the angels in light can't see, 
 
 That shrinks way back in her bonnet white 
 
 And hides its glow from bold men's sight; 
 
 She has dimples too and her eyes aflame 
 
 Make the glimmering stars all blush for shame. 
 
 Oh, me! Oh, myl what a vision rare 
 
 In this grim old world of trouble and care. 
 
 She threads her way through the crowded street 
 Where the surging masses of people meet, 
 Though young men ogle and old men sigh 
 When my girl, with her bonnet, passes by, 
 She is blinded by love and can not see 
 
 A single man in the crowd — but me. 
 Oh, me! Oh, my! what a vision rare 
 In this grim old world of trouble and care. 
 
 When days are long and nights are hot. 
 
 The pickiiickers camp on a shady spot; 
 
 They row and wade or frolic and scream 
 
 As they drink lemonade and eat ice cream; 
 
 With credit all gone, I, moneyless quite, 
 
 Am kept far away from my charmer in white. 
 
 With others she feasts, while I grumble and swear 
 
 At this grim old world of trouble and care. 
 
158 FBOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Oh, run from the girl with the sun-bonnet white, 
 Oh, run, brother, run, she's heaving in sight; 
 Oh, fly to the mountain, the cavern, the sea. 
 The Summer girl's Coming, she's coming for thee; 
 She'll woo you, she'll win you with magical art, 
 She'll leave you a bankrujit in money and heart, 
 Oh, fly to the mountain, the cavern, the sea. 
 The Summer girl's coming, she's coming for thee. 
 
 ■■^r^^©-^^- 
 
 Srov^Gr. 
 
 The icy breath ot winter grew warm, as the genial warmth of 
 the spring-time beat upon it, and the brightness of the day 
 made Grover forget the sombre cloud that enveloped him in 
 darker days. With his swarthy face aglow, and his heart 
 aflame, he drove his frisk)- chestnut to the home of one whose 
 face, he honestly believed, outshone the sun. and whose silvery 
 voice put to shame the gentle murmurings of dear old Barren. 
 
 Oh, how stately she was, and yet how prettil\- she tripped 
 down the long walk to meet him. How gracefulh' she sat 
 beside him. and how she thrilled him. with her artless speecii 
 
Fh'OM TAJ'S TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 and rippling laughter, as they drove gaily along the winding 
 road. 
 
 No knight of old ever looked so proudly upon his ',ladye 
 faire" as did Grover upon the precious little bundle of femi- 
 ninity that nestled so lovingly beside him, and gazed so ten- 
 derly into his devouring eyes. How beautiful she was to him. 
 How her chaste speech and sunny smile stirred to its depths 
 his hungry soul. 
 
 All nature was in holiday attire. The teeming earth and 
 radiant sky seemed dearer and brighter, as, dominated by her 
 sweet and resistless influence, he gazed upon them. The air 
 was as fragrant as a queen's boudoir, and as bracing as a cup 
 of cold water to a thirsty traveler. 
 
 The lowing of the cattle along the roadside; the neighing of 
 the horses in the fields, and the cackling of the hens in the 
 barnyards seemed divinest melody to him. The gnarled trees 
 waved their branches in graceful salutation, and the lazy oxen 
 smiled placidl}' upon him. His soul was in his face and 
 thoughts, unknown in gloomier moods, came surging up 
 demanding utterance. The light in his eyes was eloquent 
 as, with subtle tongue, he voiced his love and sung of joys to 
 come into her listening ear. 
 
 "It can not be. Dear (irover, you're a goose. I lo\'e )'ou 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 dearly, and will always call you my dear, dear friend; the 
 sweetest man in all the world, save one." 
 
 Homeward and in silence they wend their way. The once 
 frisky chestnut stumbling slowly on. 
 
 Grover is transformed. The old troubled look is in his eyes 
 again, and the tongue that plead so earnestly is still. To him 
 the sun is in eclipse; the air is stifling and the sky is overcast. 
 The lowing of cattle, the neighing of horses, and the cacV ling 
 of hens is no longer music, but an infernal clatter — disturbing 
 his sense of harmony — a devilish jangle of discordant sounds. 
 The sheltering trees no longer salute, but mock at his grief 
 and toss their branches in derision, and the browsing oxen 
 wink knowingly as he drives by. 
 
 Ah, Grover! Agony like this must ever come to him wlio 
 trusts the wrone woman. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 161 
 
 Bg SWGGtl^GGirf ^q{ \q Me 
 
 Come now, sweet wife, and sit upon my knee 
 
 As in the dead but unforgotten past; 
 Tell in my ear the changeless love for me. 
 
 That shall the speeding years of life outlast. 
 
 Place now one arm, so shapely and so fair, 
 About the neck that bends to none but thee; 
 
 Press rosy lips to mine, smoothe down my hair. 
 As you did years ago, be sweetheart yet to me. 
 
 Forget the world and all it holds most dear, 
 Think but of him who craves your fond caress; 
 
 Whose great love strengthens with the passing year, 
 Who prizes yet your faith and tenderness. 
 
 The fourteenth year has moved its measured length, 
 Since on our heads the priest's white hands were laid; 
 
 Our love has gone — from strength to strength. 
 Since we, in bridal garments, stood arrayed. 
 
 Bend low your head with mine and let us pray, 
 Like tiny Tim, "God bless us every one;" 
 
 Forgetting not with faultless faith to say. 
 As Jesus said of old, " Thy will be done." 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE 
 
 lr\ DrGcims §)\iq (^omes to Mg. 
 
 The sunny sniile that slept on baby's face, 
 When she was resting in her robes of white, 
 
 Comes to nie in my dreams; 
 The sleeping form, so full of faultless grace, 
 More radiant grows; in bright, unwavering, light, 
 
 How pure, how beautiful, it seems. 
 
 My arms are empty now; the freight they bore 
 Has outward gone; the tide comes not again. 
 
 But pours its flood un])itying on; 
 I heard her cries above its sullen roar, 
 Pressed to my lips the hajids held out in pain. 
 
 Till life and hope were gone. 
 
 Though song birds sing, where flowers bloom, 
 And sweet-voiced children haunt my door. 
 
 They rend my withered heart, so cold; 
 When earthly songs float through my room 
 
 She sweetly sings ujion an unseen shore. 
 And strikes her answering harp of gold. 
 
 Sometimes I dream that tiny, dimpled, hands 
 We folded on her bosom, white as snow, 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REYELLLE. 
 
 163 
 
 Do softly touch my own; 
 Sometimes she comes, from shining far off lands 
 To lift my thoughts, from changingscenes below, 
 
 To worlds by sight unknown. 
 
 Dear Jesus, rift the clouds that hide the way; 
 I tain would come to baby, and to Thee, 
 
 Upon the sun-lit hills of life eternal; 
 The night is dark; oh, speed the coming day; 
 Hold Thou mv hand; oh, gently lead Thou me 
 
 Into the deathless life and bliss supernal. 
 
164 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 C/9oman's I^i^t^+s. 
 
 The woman question, like Banquo's ghost, will not down, 
 and may be discussed with profit, if not with pleasure. There 
 exists in every human being the consciousness that in the 
 mere matter of birth, if in nothing else, he or she is the equal 
 of every other being, and there is a disposition, if opportunity 
 offers, to assert and insist upon that equality. 
 
 The most generous of men never treat inferiors with exact 
 justice, and the rude and illiberal are cruel and inhuman in 
 their treatment of those they regard as beneath them. The 
 inequalities of life are appalling and the injustice measured 
 out, even in the name of Christ and Christendom, is measure- 
 less in its sweep and effect. 
 
 Christ, as a man, was well poised, philosophic and humane. 
 He was the incarnation of justice and unselfishness, and so far 
 as we can learn, the only great religionist who treated the 
 lower orders of mankind and those who were dominated by 
 brute force or despotic power, with uniform courtesy and con- 
 sideration. 
 
 It is generally conceded that the Christian Church is the 
 greatest advocate of human rights the world has ever known; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 165 
 
 and yet her iron heel has rested upon the necks of many who 
 protested against her assumptions of authority and usurpa- 
 tions of natural rights. She has, in some ages, been the 
 apologist of slavery; in others, the shameless servant of de- 
 bauched royalty, and in every age the oppressor of women. 
 
 Let me be clearly understood: With all her defects the 
 church has been the friend of women in many ways and has 
 done much to improve their condition; but Christ was divine 
 and fully comprehended the duties and relations of life, and 
 did more. His disciples are human and fallible, subject to 
 the mastery of ignorance and prejudice the love of dominion, 
 and the exercise of authority, and though they may have some 
 conception of his inflexible justice, they can not, while cum- 
 bered with the flesh, attain it, and will be until the "last syllable 
 of recorded time," to some extent, ungenerous and unjust. 
 ,They are the salt of the earth, but their saving qualities are 
 not perfect. 
 
 It is admitted, without argument, that isolated passages in 
 the New Testament clearly teach the subjection of women. 
 Men basing their conception of the relation of the sexes upon 
 these passages, have in many cases treated women with 
 extreme cruelty and have been as unjust as they were despotic. 
 Some women, bowing to the inevitable, have accepted subor- 
 dination as a matter of course and developed along lines 
 mapped out by their superiors, and the result is, the shame of 
 the ages. 
 
160 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 The presumption of many — and the presumption is a rea- 
 sonable one — is that the Pauline restrictions and prohibitions 
 applied to particular organizations or to an epoch and are 
 not intended to be universal or perpetual in their reach. 
 They were declared when women were, as a rule, ignorant, 
 unlettered and debauched. As the willing slaves of men's 
 passions, they were regarded as inferior and immoral. It 
 may be that the politic Paul, to prevent a conflict between 
 the gospel and the passions and prejudices of the age, kept 
 women within circumscribed limits until they were competent 
 to give a reason for the faith that was in them and speak in a 
 manner calculated to challenge attention and command a 
 respectful hearing. 
 
 Christ, in his daily intercourse with men and women, recog- 
 nized merit wherever He found it, and in defiance of public 
 opinion and existing social conditions, displayed, towards 
 women, infinite tenderness and sympathy. He arra}'ed him- 
 self against those who demanded exceptional privileges on the 
 ground of sex, and laid down the single standard of morality, 
 and men and women alike were measured by it. 
 
 Is it not better to stand with Christ, alone if necessary, than 
 to touch elbows with popes and bishops in the ranks of error? 
 
 The wrongs of women are monumental and as old as the 
 race. They are as numberless as the stars that sentinel the 
 heaveiis and witness the unbroken manifestations of man's 
 inhumanity to women. They distinguish every age of the 
 
FRO.V TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 world's history, and the Son of Mary, who thought in the 
 agonies of martyrdom of the woman who carried Him on her 
 bosom, will right them. 
 
 To rob them of equality in the church, in the face of the 
 declaration that there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, 
 male nor female, and that all are one in Christ Jesus, is arbi- 
 trary and illogical. 
 
 Paul was a man of surpassing ability and unquestioned integ- 
 t\'. He was inspired, and possessed among other things, 
 courage and constancy, but we are bound to admit that, with 
 all his ability and energy, his courage and fidelity, he was not 
 the peer of the Messiah, and if the life that Jesus lived ques- 
 tioned Paul's utterances on the woman subject, as interpreted 
 by those who believe that man is the race and woman an 
 incident, it should have the greater weight. 
 
 To force women into silence and obscurity is a palpable vio- 
 lation or infringement of the golden rule. The scriptures cer^ 
 tainly show that the spirit begets spiritual equals, and ought 
 not the children of the spirit be respected and protected in 
 the possession and exercise of the rights that come to them 
 by birth? 
 
 Does a system that virtually robs women, Christian women 
 too, of the right of public discussion and appeal, and enjoins 
 silence upon the most momentous questions affecting human 
 life and destiny, recognize spiritual equality or natural rights 
 vmder spiritual birth? 
 
168 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Does not the sight of bonneted women of eminent culture 
 and superior scholarship, whose minds have been enriched by 
 travel and broadened by observation, who have wept and 
 prayed over the sacred book, sitting with bowed heads and 
 listening to the ragged rhetoric of a reformed Slummer in 
 breeches, suggest something radically wrong in the constitu- 
 tion of things, and that character and ability, and not sex 
 alone, are necessary to make the perfect teacher? 
 
 The writer would not cast an\' reflections on the ignorant, 
 but sincere and consecrated preachers, who are the mouth- 
 pieces of the Almighty. God has honored them; and men, 
 moved by their fervid appeals, have fallen at their feet and 
 cried. Men and brethren, what must we do to be saved ? 
 They, like the learned and scholarly men who occupy and 
 dignify our metropolitan pulpits deserve the confidence and 
 respect of the people they so faithfully serve. 
 
 The agitation ma}- result in an expurgated edition of the 
 Bible, for men only, in which all those texts that hint at 
 equality or seem to dispute man's title as lord of creation, will 
 be eliminated. 
 
 These idle suggestions are made in a spirit of kindness and 
 to provoke thought and discussion. 
 
 The writer's fallibility is well known to himself. He has 
 convictions and the desire to serve, in an humble way, those who 
 are in his judgment, denied rights and privileges that clearly 
 belong to them, but has the utmost respect for the men and 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. \m 
 
 women who have contrary views. What is right is the impor- 
 tant question. 
 
 The woman question must be settled, and sensible men agree 
 with John B. Finch, who said no question is settled until it is 
 settled ripfht. 
 
 PumlD or DroWn. 
 
 Tossed by the waves that ride the angry deep, 
 
 A storm-fought ship is tossing to and fro 
 With tattered sails and masts a cumbrous heap, 
 
 While through its hull the raging waters flow. 
 "Ho! sailors to the pumps," the Captain spoke, 
 
 " Hurl back the water to its native flood. 
 Or else the storm — the raging winds awoke — 
 
 Will speed to coral depths thy flesh and blood. 
 
 Like some infernal shape from realms of night. 
 
 With lowering brow and stern as soulless fate- 
 The Captain stands to urge the unequal fight, 
 
 'Gainst floods that voice the mad seas hate. 
 The weary seaman, worn with toil and faint, 
 
 Spring to the pumps at hin imperious call. 
 Bend to their work and utter no complaint, 
 
 'Till, strength all gone, they taint and fall. 
 
170 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE 
 
 "Up, weaklings; cowards, up! Shall our good ship 
 
 That wrested victory from the sea in deadlier tight 
 Yield now unto the mad waves' vengeful grip, 
 
 Be swallowed up— with friendly sails in sight? 
 The signal gun has somided loud and clear 
 
 Above the hghting winds and battling waves; 
 Sing songs of hope -and singing— never fear, 
 
 Relief is coming. Lo, the ship that saves." 
 
 Spring to the pumps the stalwart men who roam 
 
 In ice-gorged seas, where tropic waters flow. 
 In distant climes from native land and home 
 
 Afar from those who love and miss them so. 
 Their cheery song swells o'er the troubled deep, 
 
 When on its waves they see, with streaming sails, 
 The good ship Rescue 'breast the tempest's sweep, 
 
 And bless the guiding hand that never fails. 
 
 The struggling ship of our good Sunday-school 
 
 Rides well the surg'ng sea of human thought, 
 And will reach port. The craven and the fool 
 
 May flee the waves unwelcome and unsought, 
 But nobler men will heed the Captain's call 
 
 And keep her well afloat and save at last — 
 God reigns and sends his angels shining, tall, 
 
 To help his saints till danger's overpast. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Bel^old \\iQ Man. 
 
 Behold the man 
 In cooling groves on wave swept shores of Galilee, 
 The wonders He has wrought that all may see 
 
 His boundless power and turn to him — 
 With love He stretches out His strengthening hands 
 Helps struggling men to break their galling bands 
 
 And hnd in Him God's antidote for sin. 
 
 Behold the man 
 Whose willing feet bear him to sorrow's door, 
 Into the ranks of the despairing pcH)r 
 
 To give out peace, and hope, and love; 
 Who seeks the hopeless and the lost. 
 The slaves of sense, beguiled and passion tost, 
 
 And fits tliem for the higher life above. 
 
 Behold the man 
 Who, in his daily rounds, in mercy and with grace 
 Would lift men's thoughts unto His shining jdace, 
 
 Reveal the certain way to endless life; 
 Who breathes infected air, in fever-tainted rooms, 
 Where sick men lie appalled, while danger looms, 
 
 To give them strength for the unequal strife. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Behold the man 
 Who, at the marriage feast, so gently moves, 
 Abates no harmless mirth, no joyous act repro,ves, 
 
 Who blesses banns where virtue weds with thrift, 
 Who kindly speeds the pilgrims on their way. 
 Ne'er stops to ask what scribes and critics say. 
 
 But sees and greets each wanderer adrift. 
 
 Behold the man 
 As girt with power he broods, where Lazarus sleeps, 
 And moved by other's woes in silence weeps 
 
 O'er one no human cries can e'er recall. 
 He speaks— grim vaunting Death gives back its dead. 
 Hears in His stately steps a conqueror's tread. 
 
 And vanquished hails Him "Lord of all." 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Pra^ments. 
 
 The writer has views on political, social and religious sub- 
 jects which are fixed and immutable unless light shines in and 
 reveals error. He believes in soul liberty, the majesty of con- 
 science and universal suffrage. 
 
 Jesus is the Great Emancipator. In the forefront of every 
 army battling for liberty and the rights of man, has marched 
 with tireless feet the Son of Mary and the Son of God. The 
 millenium will never dawn upon the earth while it cradles a 
 slave — until the civil, social and religious status of women is 
 changed. 
 
 When women are emancipated the "first gray lines will fret 
 the East; when they are enfranchised the sun will shine, 
 for the first time in hmnan history, on a redeemed and tri- 
 umphant womanhood, and men, conscious of a sense of justice 
 hitherto unknown and exalted by a nobler conception of the 
 dignity, purit}- and rights of women, will be lifted to a higher 
 life. 
 
 * -:;:•*« ^ * * He 
 
 The prude is a public nuisance and should be abated. Many 
 a bright boy has gone "cross lots to the devil" because he has 
 been compelled to go to the slums for information that should 
 
174 FEOM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 have come to him trom his father's lips, and many a beautiful 
 girl walks with the damned because her mother was too 
 modest to warn her of the dangers that awaited her at ever}- 
 turn in life and against the forces by which her damnation was 
 wrought. To hide, or veil in myster}', the secret things of life, 
 or to refrain from pointing out the dangers that lurk beside 
 the pathway of the young, menacing their health and imperil- 
 ing their happiness, is not an unpardonable sin, but it ought to 
 be a criminal offense. 
 
 If innocence is sih-er without alio}-, purity is pure gold and 
 the universal prayer should not be "Lord, keep me innocent," 
 but " Lord keep me pure." While the proper study of man- 
 kind is man, and people ought to know themselves and others, 
 no satisfactory plea can be made for the obscene stuff that so 
 many presses are vomiting upon a suffering public, 
 
 Nothing that arouses the slumbering passions of the young 
 should be admitted into the columns of reputable publications. 
 The battle of the books is on, and on the issue hangs the des- 
 tiny of the republic and the permanence of the christian home 
 
 We Baptists are modest folks, but we are not without dis- 
 tinguished names to adorn our annals. Milton, whose fame 
 widens with the centuries; Bunyan, whose matchless alle- 
 gory is read in every tongue; Roger Williams, the pio- 
 neer of civil and religious liberty in the New World; Carey 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 and Judson, the world-renowned missionaries; Robert Hall, 
 the prince of pulpit orators; Spurgeon, the greatest non-con- 
 formist of the centur}'. and thousands of others, eminent in 
 war and peace, who have dignified high places and enjoyed 
 prominence in politics, science, law and religion, were Baptists, 
 Tom Dixon, Jr., the anti-Tammany crusader; Wm. R. Harper, 
 the distinguished hebraist, and Bob Burdette, the humorist 
 are Baptists. 
 
 I have read some where that Prof. Morse, the distinguished 
 inventor, was a Baptist deacon, and that Gen. Schofield, the 
 retiring General of the United States army, and Gen. Miles, 
 his successor, are Baptists. Gen. Frank Wolford, distinguished 
 for gallantry among the daring men who inhabit Kentuckys 
 mountains, was a Baptist. 
 
 Jefferson Davis and Abraham Lincoln, the rival Presidents, 
 hung upon the necks of Baptist mothers, and a Baptist mother 
 — English born — gave Wm. Lloyd Garrison to the world. 
 President Arthur was the son of a Baptist clergyman. The 
 first President of Harvard College was a Baptist. Kalloch, 
 the Sand Lot Agitator, was a Baptist preacher. The monu- 
 mental liar of the age, in a Munchausen sense, is a Baptist 
 layman. One of the Ozark Mountain brigands and outlaws, 
 y'clept Bald Knobbers, was a Baptist preacher. One of the 
 leading spirits in the Rock Bridge gang of desparadoes, was 
 the son of a Baptist preacher. 
 
 Dr. Howard, as commanding as he was eloquent, who, after 
 
17(i FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 a sensational trial, was sentenced to prison for swindling on 
 a gigantic scale, was a Baptist preacher and editor; and it is 
 claimed that Judas Iscariot was one of the original Baptists. 
 Excessive modesty and the fear of exciting the envy of rival 
 denominations forbids my mentioning any more of our celeb- 
 rities. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Bismarck, the idol of Germany, and Gladstone, the greatest 
 man in the English speaking world, are said to be devout stu- 
 dents of the Bible. Horace Greeley said you cannot socially 
 or morally enslave a Bible reading people. The most radical 
 agnostic or infidel, if thoroughly advised and candid, admits 
 that the Sacred Book of the christians has been loved and 
 studied by many of the most intellectual and scholarly men 
 the ages have produced, and that its influence upon human 
 thought and progress has been almost limitless. If these men, 
 weighted down with the cares of state, and staggering under 
 the duties and responsibilities of their exalted positions find 
 time to search the scriptures, it is certain that the failure to 
 do so by many is the result of neglect or indifference and not 
 of lack of time or opportunit)-. The importance of Bible 
 study is not fully understood, especially in countries where 
 the people govern. Personal morals are not, in a political 
 sense, so essential where the people are not sovereign and the 
 governing power is vested in an absolute monarch, but in a 
 nation where every man is a factor in the body politic and 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 every citizen a part of the (government the opinions and char- 
 acter of the people are of paramount importance, 
 
 The Bible should be the text-book of the republic. While 
 no one shouUl be compelled by law to study it. the merits of 
 the book should be proclaimed and it should be widely dis- 
 tributed and read. The "eternal principles of ricrht that it dis- 
 closes and the rules of conduct it lays down, if fully compre- 
 hended and acted upon, will make our nation invulnerable. 
 Internal dissensions will never disturb it, and external forces 
 will let it alone. We are threatened by race disturbances in 
 the South, a war between Romanism and Protestanism is pos- 
 sible, and a conflict between labor and capital is impending. 
 The panacea for national ills is an open Bible, our source of 
 strength the God it reveals. 
 
 While an honest investigator should never be denounced and 
 'an infidel or atheist, who fails to find the truth after searching 
 for it should be respected, men who decry Christianity as a 
 moulding force and assault the Bible, without reason, are 
 enemies of the public, and des.erve the condemnation of 
 thoughtful people. When we intelligently and deliberately 
 choose the Nazarene as our ideal and live in harmony with 
 the golden rule, peace and plenty will come to all and ignor- 
 ance and superstition will pass away. 
 
 » * s; « ;i; Sf iS * * ® » « 
 
 A good many men who are butting their heads against the 
 walls of doubting Castle, or lying helpless on its floors, or 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE- 
 
 held ill durance vile, like the " Dean of Maitland," by the 
 memory of some secret sin and the fear of exposure can easily 
 gain libert}' if they will think and act intelligently. 
 
 As long as men, whose environments are apparently unchang- 
 ing and degrading remain in their places and make no effort 
 to escape from their thralldom, they will be helpless and 
 hopeless captives, though there may be means of deliverance 
 within easy reach. If the slaves of appetite and passion will 
 be on the alert, instead of tameh^ submitting to their merciless 
 masters, they can find open avenues into liberty' and a better 
 life. They will find unoccupied places in public esteem await- 
 ing the sons of men who, " forgetting the things that are 
 behind," press forward and upward. 
 
FROM TARS TILL REVEILLE. 179 
 
 ((l^arlGy's (airl Qradaate 
 
 Oh, what shall I do; oh, where shall I go 
 
 To escape from the trouble that haunts me so? 
 
 On this jterfumed programme her name appears. 
 
 It shatters my peace and arouses my fears; 
 
 Deft fingers, and white, have touched the pen. 
 
 Ay grasped it fiercely again and again 
 
 As she sweetly wrote, "Now, don't say nay. 
 
 You must surely come on commencement day. 
 
 "I ha\e finished my course and must bid adieu. 
 
 To books and teachers and classmates, too, 
 
 I shall startle the i)eople, with what I say. 
 
 In the essay I've written to read that day; 
 
 I've gleaned from thinkers of every age — 
 
 Pure wisdom and wit adorn each page. 
 
 My thoughts about knowledge, that all should seel 
 
 Are really striking, profound, and unique. 
 
 "We the loveliest dress that money can buy. 
 As pure and as soft as a maiden's sigh; 
 Dear mamma just raved — if papa ditl frown — 
 And declared ' It's the sweetest thing in town,' 
 'Who cares for expenses,' the dear soul said, 
 
ISO FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Though papa kept frowning and shook his head, 
 
 I've the daintiest slippers, of purest white, 
 
 And my diamonds and ribl)ons are 'out of sight.' 
 
 "Some classmates of mine are deciiledly vain. 
 And are putting on airs to give me pain; 
 Their lovers are coming — so they say — 
 All gorgeously dressed lor a gala day, 
 I've got my essay, my ribbons and gown, 
 The stunningest outfit in all the town. 
 They can not outshine—but I need you— 
 So I can boast of a sweetheart too. 
 
 "Oh, won't I exult when the last act done, 
 I hear the applause that is sure to come. 
 When small boys stagger— in double file— 
 ' Xeath their burdens of ilowers adown the aisle. 
 When they lay at my feet the trophies won 
 By social successes and work Well done? 
 My friends are so thoughtful that each— I know 
 Will bring me the rarest - I love them so." 
 
 Oh, what shall I do; Oh, where shall I so. 
 
 To escape from the trouble that haunts me so? 
 
 My tailor is huffy^and sells for cash, 
 
 My landlady scourges — her tongue's a lash— 
 
 The florist I know sent a recent call 
 
 For the money I promised to pay last fall. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 While an other, grown cranky, says money counts, 
 And don't give credit for small amounts. 
 
 Shall I hide myself in some desolate wood 
 Like a gloomy old hermit — weird but good? 
 Shall I bury myself in some cavern deep 
 Where blind bats haunts and crystals weep? 
 Shall I plunge beneath the turbid flow 
 Where the merciless currents come and go? 
 Or shall I venture without the flowers 
 And scoff as the tear-drops fall in showers? 
 
182 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 (;l^c\rley's \:Jacc\^ion. 
 
 The session is ended and I set free 
 
 From lessons and problems that bothered me; 
 
 Am ready to snooze and frolic and swim 
 
 In the garish light and the twilight dim, 
 
 My dog-eared books are laid aside, 
 
 So I can romp and run and ride; 
 
 My studies are over, my work is done, 
 
 And I, while resting must have some fun. 
 
 Shall I swell and strut like a painted clown 
 As I gad the streets of the cjuiet town? 
 Shall I scowl and holler, whoop and cuss. 
 Be cross to my playmates, fight and fuss? 
 Shall I guy my sister and sass my ma. 
 Torment my auntie and devil my pa? 
 Drink beer and whisky and smoke cigars, 
 Or smash show windows and rock the cars? 
 
 Shall I trip the dude and the woman fat. 
 Tie cans to the pug and tease the cat? 
 Shall I frighten the women, who live alone, 
 By rocking their windows with broken stone? 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Shall I fool the doctor with bogus calls, 
 And carry off gates when the twilight falls, 
 Or read dime novels the livelong day, 
 Not caring a snap what the people say? 
 
 No, I'll be playful, but pure and clean, 
 And scorn to be ugly and cross or mean, 
 I will sing with joy and shout with glee, 
 Bring gladness and peace to all I see, 
 Be cheerful and happy and send a glow 
 Of warmth and sunshine wherever I go; 
 Be loving and tender, helpful and kind. 
 Thoughtful of body and soul and mind. 
 
 Oh, I'll have fun and a gloiious time. 
 With plenty to eat and frolics tine; 
 But I'll be modest and gentle and true. 
 And never do aught that I will rue; 
 I'll love my playmates and help the pt)or, 
 And feed the hungry that haunt my door. 
 Mind mamma and papa, who love me so. 
 And make life brighter for all I know. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 091?c\f (Jl^arlG^ Said. 
 
 Am I ever at fault? Oh no! Oh nol 
 I am right to-day and ever was so, 
 
 And will be to the end; 
 Wife's always at fanlt. Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will he forever and ever I guess; 
 
 She's stubborn and hard to bend. 
 
 Uo I ever fuss? Oh no! Oh no! 
 I never get mad and carry on so 
 
 That she should unhappy be; 
 She's always a scolding. Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever 1 guess, 
 
 'Till she loses sight of me. 
 
 Am I ever jealous? Oh no! Oh no! 
 
 If a blab-mouthed hussy should dare say so 
 
 I would smash her mischievous head; 
 Wife's always suspecting. Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 'Till I sleej) with the peaceful dead. 
 
 Do I ever grumble? Oh no! Oh no! 
 Pray show me the liar, who dares sayso 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. J85 
 
 And he'll never go mouthing again; 
 She's always a grumbling. Oh yes! Oh yes 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 'Till she's free from trouble and pain. 
 
 Do I ever get shiftless? Oh no! Oh no! 
 I'm industrious now and always was so, 
 
 Like the hustlers who've gone before; 
 But she is quite lazy. Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 'Till she wearies and works no more. 
 
 Am I ever bombastic? Oh no! Oh no! 
 I always was modest and shall be so, 
 
 'Till I shuffle this mortal coil; 
 But she is a braggart Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 'Till she rests from bragging and toil. 
 
 Do I ever flirt? Oh no! Oh no! 
 But the girls admire and pity me so, 
 
 I am sometimes tempted to try; 
 But she is coquettish Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 'Till men neither flatter nor sigh. 
 
 WHAT THE ANGEL SAID. 
 
 Is Charley's wife working Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 
ISr. FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 To support her husband dear; 
 
 Does she grumble and fuss? Oh no! Oh no! 
 
 No meddlesome gossip will dare say so, 
 She faithfully serves with fear; 
 
 Is Charley's wife faithful? Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 Her love is purer than gold. 
 Does she nag and accuse? Oh no! Oh no! 
 In silence she carries her burden of woe. 
 
 With a troubled heart, but bold; 
 
 Is Charley's wife serving? Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess, 
 
 "Till she enters the realms of rest; 
 Does she brag and flirt? Oh no! Oh no! 
 Not one of the neighbors will tell you so. 
 
 She's a heart-broken wife at best. 
 
 Is Charley a devil? Oh no! Oh no! 
 'Tis a captious critic who dares say so, 
 
 But he worships himself as a God; 
 Is he monstrus and cruel? Oh yes! Oh yes! 
 And will be forever and ever I guess. 
 
 'Till they house him under the sod. 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Some Sacred Mouniair\s. 
 
 On Ararat, above the waves, the ark securely rests 
 
 While raging storms and whelming flood obey our God's behests. 
 
 On calvary's brow the Roman cross upholds its precious freight, 
 
 Is finished, for a doomed race, redemption full and great. 
 
 On Carmel's side the mighty Saul bends low his kingly head, 
 
 Know this — he mourns a kingdom lost, his legions scattered dead. 
 
 On Ebal dark by God embalmed in Sacred writ and song. 
 
 Hear curse§ hurled 'gainst damning sin in angry tones and strong. 
 
 From Gerizim in sunshine wrapt in years long, long ago. 
 
 The words of blessing freely come and sweetly onward flow. 
 
 On Gilboas crest with forests crowned neath azure star gemmed skies. 
 
 Grim faithless Saul falls on his sword and hopeless, helpless, dies. 
 
 On Gilead is Mizpah heard by proud lips kindly spoken. 
 
 As faithful friends asunder part and thinning ranks are broken. 
 
 On hoary Hor old Aaron lies, in dust his priestly form. 
 
 Unmindful as the ages flow of shining sun and storm. 
 
 Moriah feels the patriarch's tread; Oh, see the gleaming knife, 
 
 Uplifted by his brawny arm to take young Isaac's life. 
 
 On Olive's brow the Savior prays and drains the unmixed cuj) 
 
 That he may do his Father's will and lift the fallen up. 
 
 On Pisgah's heights see Moses stand and view the promised land 
 
 To which another man shall lead his wandering, home-bound, band. 
 
 On Sinai see the lightning flash; Oh, hear the thunder roll. 
 
 While God writes law on riven rock as on a silken scroll. 
 
 Unto Mount Zion— joy of all come ye from near and far. 
 
 Come, enter in, and worship God, through pearly gates ajar. 
 
188 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 biberi^ ar^d DeOGloprnGnf. 
 
 Men who are opposed to clothing women with liberty and 
 equality under the law seem to think that when the restraints 
 that are thrown around them are withdrawn they will become 
 masculine and lose the distinguishing characteristics of refined 
 womanhood. This is an assumption, pure and simple, and 
 seems irrational to one who has cast aside the prejudices that 
 make him see deformities and conditions that do not exist. 
 
 That there is no development without liberty is an unchang- 
 ing and incontrovertible fact. Women, even in our advanced 
 communities, do not have liberty, and so their development is 
 incomplete. 
 
 An inferior who feels and admits his inferiority may cram 
 for a life-time and be loaded to the muzzle with mathematics, 
 science, law, history and theology, but so long as he believes 
 that he is essentially below the common level he will be an 
 inferior with all the infirmities of mnid and temper that the 
 consciousness of his inferiority begets and is really undevel- 
 oped in any proper sense. A woman who believes that she 
 is an afterthought, and uncomplainingly accepts the position 
 assigned to her in the social system, is not developed like she 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 189 
 
 would be under different circumstances. No matter what 
 knowledge she may acquire or what accomplishments she 
 may take on she must, in many cases, gain by duplicity or 
 unnatural self-assertion that which should come to her unso- 
 licited and as a natural right, 
 
 A lady is a lady anywhere. Ja}- Gould's daughter can enter- 
 tain in her home with ease and dignity and win the esteem of 
 her guests by her devotion to their interests. She is a queen 
 in her home and in society, and her bloodless regime excites 
 popular admiration, and ) et, when she goes into the slums of 
 of New York to minister to the necessities of the pariahs and 
 debauchees of that great city, she is still a lady, uncontami- 
 nated by the moral filth with which she is brought in contact. 
 Her surroundings are widely different, but the spirit which 
 enables her to preside with grace and refinement in the palace 
 and move with ease in the social whirl sustains her as a minis- 
 tering angel in the hovels of the poor and the haunts of vice. 
 
 There died recently in Europe a woman of rare beauty, ripe 
 culture and eminent usefulness who, in her youth, had led a 
 life of riotous pleasure and enslaved men as Cleopatra enslaved 
 Anton\', but she abandoned her vicious life and became an 
 evangelist. Gladstone, and men of royal birth, were among 
 those who listened to her utterances and approved. When 
 she died with soiled robes washed in the blood of rhe Magda- 
 lene's redeemer, she left the priceless legacy of a good name 
 to those who mourned over her youthful follies. It does not 
 
190 FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 appear that publicity debauched or degraded her, or brought 
 unlovely, unrefined traits into prominence. 
 
 Some years ago death terminated the career of a woman 
 whose conquests were familiar on two continents. She was 
 the wayward daughter of a preacher and gifted with excep- 
 tional magnetism. .She abandoned the humdrum life of a par- 
 son's daughter to become a woman of the world in the broadest 
 sense. The multi-millionaires and merchant princes of Europe 
 fell at her feet and poured generous fortunes into her coffers. 
 Generals and statesmen who had won renown on the field and 
 in parliament, forgot the dignity of their stations and threw 
 themselves into her leprous embrace, unconscious of, or uncar- 
 ing for the avalanche of ruin and dishonor they precipitated 
 upon their manhood and their homes. 
 
 The resistless force of a dissolute woman with knowledge of 
 men and the capacity to charm can not be estimated. One of 
 the perplexing problems of the day is what shall we do to 
 beget within women love of home, self, and country, in the 
 highest degree. If she, like her complement, is a recognized 
 factor in the social structure, she can use her God-given ener- 
 gies to make the world wiser and better. The knowledge that 
 she has a birthright and has the burdens and responsibilities 
 that equality and liberty bring resting upon her will aid 
 mightily in her development and help to make her loyal to 
 herself, her home and her country. 
 
 A woman devoid of personal graces, but intellectual and 
 
FRO}[ TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 191 
 
 magnetic, gained an ascendenc}- over the Communists of 
 France that was almost absolute. At her command thousands 
 of burly men, thugs, assassins and license-loving enthusiasts 
 would emerge from their hiding places in the great commer- 
 cial centers and isolated places throughout the republic and 
 rally around her standard in defiance of the guillotine and the 
 sleuth hounds of the law. 
 
 Capacity for leadership is not confined to men. If God sees 
 fit to endow a woman with it he certainly intends that she 
 shall have an opportunity to use it, and it is barely possible 
 that men, in their anxiety to improve upon the works of the 
 Creator, ma}' array themselves against his unerring wisdom, 
 and reap disaster commensurate with their folly. Any reform 
 against nature will ultimately fail, any system founded upon 
 injustice is doomed from the beginning. It may flourish for 
 ages, but the curse of God is upon, it and the decree for its 
 overthrow is entered upon the records of a court from which 
 there is no appeal. 
 
 Love, Liberty, Equality, Justice. Whatever is built upon 
 these foundation stones will stand though men rage and devils 
 howl. The omnipotent hand that ne\er grows weary uplifts 
 in its defense, the eye that never sleeps watches over it, and 
 infinite power compasses it about with walls that can not be 
 overthrown by the combined forces of earth and hell. 
 
1!^-' FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 butie's WMq Ban^. 
 
 Lutie has a little bang, 
 Between her laughing eyes 
 That ever lies alert a curl 
 And never shows surprise. 
 
 It is a little artful .thing, 
 Caressing, bright and curly, 
 That clings to Lutie everywhere, 
 In lifes great hurly burly. 
 
 When envy sneers at Lutie's ban< 
 So modest and so proper, 
 It never blushes out of curl, 
 Because it aint a whopper. 
 
 Although it is a tiny thing, 
 That never can get bigger. 
 It never heeds a cruel jest. 
 Or jesters senseless "snigger." 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Though Lutie loves her little bang. 
 She bangs it every day, 
 Before she welcomes coming guests 
 Or calls across the way. 
 
 When Lutie sits in cushioned pew 
 Or stands before the teacher, 
 The gentle bang upon her brow 
 Keeps smiling at the preacher. 
 
 And when she dreams before the fire, 
 With white feet on the fender, 
 There lingers on her troubled face 
 The bangs caress so tender. 
 
 I trust when Lutie's slender hands. 
 Are waxen grown and cold, 
 They'll place upon her snowy brow 
 Its shining threads of gold, 
 
FliOM JAl'S TILL liEVKlLLE 
 
 (;l7arl(y in \\iq St^adoWs. 
 
 Within the shadows now, with heart bowed down. 
 I stand appalled at fortune's wrathful frown. 
 The future, sonibre-hued, l)efore me lies, 
 I catch no ray of light to rest my weary eyes 
 
 Or pierce the clouds that lower on my path, 
 Life has no charms, the world's a dreary waste. 
 Despair has murdered hope, and I— in sullen haste — 
 Would run life's maddeninLT race to Us appointed end. 
 Curse (iod and die. though he will surelv send 
 
 The lierv Hoods of his consumint,r wrath 
 
 The shadows overwhelm; I'ui we^arv now of life. 
 The sunless past with its discordant sounds of strife, 
 The bootless battles fought and lost, the sore defeat, 
 The mockery of fate that on its skull-crowned seat, 
 
 Turned coming joy to present woe; 
 The cruel now's swift swelling Hood of care. 
 Which I must breast alone, with none to sliare 
 The burden that it brings to weight me down. 
 The mocking fool whose dark, unpitying frown 
 
 15reeds deathless hate for all below. 
 
FROM TAP,^ TILL REVEILLE. l!)o 
 
 Poised on his snowy wings an angel said 
 Through a lift in the clouds that hung overhead, 
 "Consult a physician, he'll give you some jiills 
 To scatter the bile that breeds life's ills 
 
 In the germ-laden days of Spring; 
 To aid your digestion and cleanse the blood 
 That i)Ours through your veins an unclean flood, 
 And quit your nerves that surely need rest; 
 Seek sunshine and sleep if you would be l:)lest, 
 
 Quit grumbling, praise God and sing," 
 
 -.^^N^ 
 
J!»fi FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 ^oW ^immie C/9ent ^ome. 
 
 Oh tidy the room dear Jessie, 
 That Jimmie called his own, 
 When he was mother's baby boy, 
 And a whiskered man well grown; 
 I'm surely coming — the letter says- 
 And will see you Christmas day, 
 To-morrow my battered trunk and I 
 Will be heading down your way. 
 
 I want to see your shining face. 
 That used to shine on me, 
 Although I was a graceless scamp. 
 Anil as bad as I could be; 
 I want to kiss your waiting lips, 
 And hug you long and tight. 
 As if you were my " lady faire," 
 And I your faithful knight. 
 
 I want to sleei> in my little bed. 
 In the room I called my own, 
 When I was mother's l)aby boy. 
 And a whiskered man, well grown; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 I want to drink — plaese, do not scoff 
 From the jntcher brown and old, 
 Dearer to me, with its nozzle off, 
 Than a flagon of yellow gold. 
 
 For I remember, and so do you. 
 Sweet Lennie, wee and wild, 
 Who broke it on my curly head, 
 "Cause I was a naughty child;" 
 I'll miss the tiny, dimpled (jueen, 
 That ruled from her mimic throne. 
 Who never saw her naughty child, 
 A stalwart man — full groww. 
 
 Yes, tidy the room dear Jessie, 
 For mother is grotving old. 
 Fill full the grate with fuel. 
 These winter nights are cold; 
 jimmie is coming and I must rest, 
 So I'll be strong to-morrow, 
 He will not know my sunken face, 
 With its speaking lines of sorrow. 
 
 Urink round again, my comrades true, 
 With a pilgrim homeward going, 
 What care we if the preachers say, 
 That the reaping follows the sowing; 
 
FROM TAPS TILL REVEILLE. 
 
 Repeat the toast, "A Comrade's Health, 
 And empty your ])rimming g-lasses, 
 The fruit of the vine is Heaven's fire, 
 To warm the heart of the masses. 
 
 W'hi e curses tell from ashen lips, 
 Men watched his failing; breath. 
 Who, hattlino-, bowed in drunken 1 
 To the reaper men call death, 
 
 And so he lies within the room 
 He always called his own. 
 When he was mother's baby boy, 
 And a whiskered man well "-rown. 
 
 THE END. 
 
n^^f^. 
 
 
 VC^» ^ - 't vl' fr^ ^'- V-^ ti'