The Republican., 1888-12-01
A SENATORS'S STORY.
BY HON. GEoRGKG. VEST.

several years ago, at the request OF
@me Missouri boys, in whom he felt
an Interest, United States Senator
vest wrote story for little paper
Sney We're publishing.
In 1868, while passing through a
village in Mississippi, l was APP
ppached by surgeon of the Con-
leoerate army with inquiry as to NY
name and place of nativity. As |
had no special reason for withhold
.ng the desired Information, was
told that my cousin, Charley s.,
lrom Kentucky, had been badly
wounded in recent fight With the
enemy and was then lying in the
hospital at that place and in a critical
,9nndition.
,.ERe.is badly off" said the doctor.
Vmentally and physically, and unless
lome one takes special interest in
AM, and in the right way, he will
E."
Charley and myself had been
Ned together, but had not met for
yTs. In early manhood orr paths
Inife had widely diserged. | had
zoe to the far West, and on the
)reking out of the war had entered
he Confederate service from Mis-.
suri, whilst he had become a citizen
Mississippi and had been in the
sne service from the beginning Of
utilities with the command Of Gen
er Chalmefs.
very few minutes walk brought
meo the hospital where Charley lay
vii hundreds Of other gallant feI
low, waiting for the result-life or
! deaf,
Th sepulchral light in the shadowy
room the haIf-suppressed mOau- ot
agony the weird shapes OF the SIS
ters G Mercy nOi-eIessly moving
from c,uch to couch, were not cheer
ful, to say the least, and when l
looked Gown AT the poor, wan, emaci.
ated form before me, stretched upon
cot. ard realized that this Wss what
war had left of the glad-hearted, 70.
bust friend Of my boyhood-wcll, |
was rather disposed to give up a few
OF "my rights in the territories" ii
they would let me live peaceabiy in
the States.
Charley" said I. "old fellow, do
you know me?"
" Yes" he whispered, whilst faint
Gieam OF ii1ot came into his eyes
u heard you were here and sent for
YOU"
| sat there, and the deepening
shadows came about me, the silence
unbrOken save by groan, whilst
memory went back to our boyhood.
his and mine, the old hills and the
shining river, with the bridge hang
ing across it, and the road running
up and around the cliffs, like a SER
pent, undulating through the trees
and rocks, the school-house and the
Old church. with the high pulpit and
the hard, hard seats, where we sat on
each recurring Sabbath. with eyes
fixed on the preacher, until our GER
vical vertebr8 seemed to be parting.
Oh, how we longed then to be men !
What dream of adventure, travel,
war, fitted before us as "seyen
teently," "eighteenly" and "incOn-
clusion my dear friends," fell from
those venerable lips.
Well, we had become men. and
here was the end, bed of agony and
a soldiers death Deeper fell the
shadows and memory still fingered
amidst the scenes of the far-off past.
How the cold, stern features of that
austere Presbyterian, under whose
teachings we were reared, became
softened by the dim twilight of the
years ago. Father. mother, teacher,
where are tn y? Ask the
cleaning in the moonlight
on those Kentucky hills. And how
they taught us our duty both to God
ana man. Hard, severe, tyrannical,
we thought it then. But now, sof-
tened by time, we see the surprising
love which was in it all.
The mind is at times disposed tc
vagahondize and to dwell upon sub
iects utterly at variance with all oul
How often in some
holy place do we find unholy thoughts
pressing upon us? How often with
the bier and grave do we find some
ludicrOus idea dancing, harlequin.
like, by our side? And so, sitting
there in the gloom by the bedside OF
death, / actually laughed aloud as
the image of "Old Put" came out
upon the canvass memory of the
past.
sold Put" was an old horse be-
longing to my father, and named
from patriotic motives after the New
England hero, General Israel Put.