Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1888-11-01
Election Tuesday, Nov. 9th.
THE PAUPER SOLDIERS STORY.

! lCopy of poem written by Capt. Jack
Crawford, the poet scout" expressly fol
the Veterans Reunion at the Wiers, n
H., and read by Mrs. Emma Manning
Huntley, August 80. 1t strikes the key
stone on the Presidents vetol:
Well, yes, it is sort o rough, sir,
y havin' to linger here,
An to think that | must stay till die
In this pOOrhOuSe, cherries and drear.
But | amt in a fit condition
To struggle for daily bread,
An | had to come to this dreary home
| Fur a place to lay my head.
A soldier? Yes; enlisted
| In the summer o SiXty-One, war
An | done my shar' through the dreadful
As a private packin' gun.
Me an William and Charlie,
| My boys big hearted and brave;
Far, far away, in the South they lie
| At rest in soldiers grave.
Twas a sad an fearful day, sir,
When they bid their mother goodbye,
To march away to the head o fray,
| To fight, an if need be, die.
An I'll never furg1t her face, sir,
AS white as the drifted snow, said,
AS she pressed each head TO her heart, an
'Oh, Cod 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 ears we filed;
An when the sharp whistle sounded,
An the train from the station sped,
She tainted away, an we seed her lay
On the ground like a person dead.
Mister, let's drop that subject
Twas the SaddeSt day O my life;
| kin see again that scene at the train,
An it cuts my heart like knife.
will only say when the tidingS
OF the boys on the telegraph flew,
Not word did she speak, an i'll less'n a
week
They buried my old wife too.
| came home from the service shattered,
By exposure to cold an rain,
But hObbled about an sOrter made out
To live; but the awful pain
What | suffered at last undOne me,
Till scarce could stan on my feet;
Then to an fro had fur to go
A beggin' fur what | eat.
At last the authorities toP me
They'd give me place to die; drear,
An they brought me here to this place so
An here I'm compelled to lie;
An just as you say it's hard, sir,
To be treated i'll such way,
Like worn out pan or an empty can,
Or garment that's seed its day.
Why don't AK fur pension?
l did nigh year ago,
An l one time thought had surely got
TO the end of misfOrtune's row.
For Congress said deserved it,
An it made my old heart rejoice
When l heard at last that the bill had
passed
Without an Objectin' vote.
Lordl sir, but want happy,
An proud as the proudest king? kite,
My heart seem'd light as schoOlboy's
An my voice had a Joyous ring.
thanked the Lord fur His goodness,
An | thanked the Senators, too,
Fur bein' so kind as to keep i'll mind
The crippled ole boys in blue.
But the clouds come agin around me
Come blacker than ever afOre; sight,
Not a ray O light broke through to my
On Ine nafcn 10 Ine pOOfnOuSe door.
The President crushed my hopes, sir,
An doomed me to this sad lot;
He spurned me, too, like wornout shoe,
After all the battles fought.
Mabbe twas right to do So
I've not much larnin' you see; correct
An he knows, l expect what's right an
A good deal better'n me;
But there's one that's higher than him, sir,
An when from this earth I'm free
reckon I'll find He'll be more kind
Than the Presidents been to me.