Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1888-10-06
THE PAUPER SoLDIERS STORY.
BY CAPTAIN JACK CRAWFORD.

3GUD1 Oh gOpfU MIllbGu Uy 1uPty O0Sh
Crawford, the poet scout. expressly Tor the
Veterans Reunion at The Wiers, N. IT,,
and read by Mrs. Emma Manning Hunt
ley, August 3d..
Well, yes, it is sort o. rough, sir,
A hayin' to linger here,
An, to think that must stay till die
In this poorhouse cherries and drear,
But amt in fit condition
To struggle for daily bread,
An had to come to this dreary nome
Fur place to lay my head.
a soldier? Yes, enlisted
In the summer o. Sixty-one,
An done my shar' through the dread
full war
AS private packin' gun.
lie an w lillian and Charlie,
NV bows big hearted and brave,
Far, far away, in the south they lie
At rest in a soldiers grave
Twas a sad and fearful day, sir,
When they bad their mother goodbye,
To march away to the heads o. fray,
To fight, an if need be, die.
An I'll never furgIt her face, sir,
AS white as the drifted snow,
AS she pressed each head to her heart, AM
said,
ssOh, God. can let them go?"
There wasn't man in the ranks, sir,
That didn't cry like child.
To hear her means, an her piteous groans
AS into the cars we filed;
An when the sharp whistle sounded,
AM the train from the station sped,
She tainted away an we seed her lay
On the ground like person dead.
Mister, let's drop the subject
Twas the saddest day o. my life;
| kin see again that scene at the train,
- H. 0,,<l tho Izntf
| will only say when the tidings
OF the boys on the telegraph flew,
Not word did she speak, an In less'n a
week
They buried my old wife too.
came home from the sarvice shattered,
By exposure to cold and rain,
But | hobble1 about an sorter made out
To live; but the awful pain
What / suffered at last undone me,
Till scarce could STAN on my feet;
/ hen to an fro l had fur to go
A beggin' fur what | eat.
At last the authorities tol' me
They'd give me place to die;
AM they brought me here to this place go
drear,
An here Pm compelled to lie.
An lust as you say it's hard, Sir,
To be treated in such way,
Like worn out pan or an empty can.
Or a garment that's seen its day.
why don't Ak for pension?
l did nigh year ago.
An one time thought had surely got
To the end O. misfortune's row,
Fur Congress said deserved it,
An il made nay Old heart rejoice
When I heard at last that the bill had
passed
Without an objectin' vote.
Lord sir but wasn't j happy,
AM proud as the proudest klngf
My heart seemed light as schooiboy's
kite,
An my voice had joyous ring.
/ thanked the Lord fur His goodness,
AM thanked the Senators, too,
Fur bein' SO kind as to keep in mind
The crippled ole boy in blue.
But the clouds come again around me-
Come blacker than ever before;
Not ray o. light broke thro' to my sight.
On the march to the poorhouse door.
The President crushed my hopes, sir,
An doomed me to this sad lot;
He spurned me, too, like worn out shoe;
After all the battles fought.
Mabbe it was right to do So
I've not much larnin' you see;
An he knows, expect, what's right and
correct
But there's One that is higher than him,
sir,
AM when from this earth Pm free,
| reckon I'll find He'll be more kind
Than the Presidents been to me.