The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1875-08-09
And That's the Way lie Felt.

And That's the Way lie Felt.
The Yicksburg (NTiss.) Herald tells
the following story: He had n wooden
leg, three fingers were gone from the
left hand, and he had to use II crutch.
In the dusk Of the evening lie slt down
OIL Il dry goods box on the street corner,
and striking the ground with his crl'tch,
he exclaimed:
"Wcll, old partl, the wars over
Gimme your hand-shnke hard!"
He shook the crutch with hearty good
will, and continued:
"Thcrc's no more Reb-no moro
Yankl We're all Americans, and stand
ing shoulder to shoulder-South Caro-
lima alongside Massachusctts-wc can
lick the boots oil7n any nation under the
sum"
He waited awhile and then went on:
"No more skirmishcs-no moro fouts.
Uncle Robert is dead, Gen. Grant wants
peace, and they're melting up swords
and bayonets to make cotton mill NIL
chinery! We're abont through camping
out, old pard, and We haint sorry-not
n bit!"
He leaned the crutch against the box,
lifted his wooden leg, and said:
"Lost n good leg up Mt Fredericks'
burg when was under Barksdale, and
Burnside thought he could whip old
Uncle Robert and Stonewall Jackson
together! Good Lord but wasn't it
lot that day, when the Ianks laid their
pontoons and gotupand got for us! And
when we got up and got for them,
wasn't it red hot !"
He stopped to ponder for q while, and
his voice was softer rs he said:
"But I forgive EN-! I took the
chanccs-and lost. I'm reaching out
now to shake hands with the iank who
shot me, and I'll divide my tobacco hall
and half with him. 1t was big war.
Yank and Reb stood right up and show.
ed pluck, but it's timc to forgive and
forget"
He cut chew off his plug, took oil
his battered hat and looked Mt it, aud
continued:
Didn't we all come OF ono blood I
Hain't We the big American nation !
Isn't this here United States tho biggest
plantation on tho river, and is there n
nation in the world TINT dares knock the
chip of our shoulder
Maryland, my Maryland
Michigan, my Michigan"
He put down his leg, looked at his
crippled hand, and soliloquizad:
"Three fingers gone-hand used up,
but I'm satisfied. Folks who go to war
expect to feel bullets. We stood up to
the Yanks they stood up to us-it was
n fair fight, and We got licked. Two
fingers hain't rs good rs five, but they
are good enough to shake hands with
Come up here, You Yanks, and grip me
We raise cotton down here-you raise
corn up there-lcss trade"
He lifted his crutch, struck it down
hard. and went on:
"Durn q family who'll fight each
other We've got the biggest and best
country that ever laid out doors, and il
any foreign despot throws club at the
American eagle, we'll shoulder arms
aud shoot him into the middle Of next
week !"
He sat aud pondercd while the shal-
ows grew deeper, and by-and-byo hc
sail:
"Thcre's lots of graves down here
there's heaps o war orphans up North; E;
I'm crippled up and half sick, but I'm
going to get up and hit the onery cuss
who dares say word ag'in either.
We've got through fishting-were snak-
ing hands now, and dllrn the man who
says word to interrupt the harmony
It's one family-ole Uncle Sans boys
and gals and babies, and we're going to
live in the same house, eat ut the same
table, and turn out bigger crops than
my other ranch on the globe"
He rose up to go, raped on the box
with his crutch, and continued:
"Resolvcd, Tht this glorious old
family stick right together in the old
homestead for the next million years to
come !"