The Republican journal., 1889-09-19
NUMBER 80.
Written for the Journal.
The PauperS In Blue,

Wen, Mary, seein the hayins done,
And the farm work pretty well through
guess I'll try and lay off a spell
Along with the ''paUpers in blue"
It's been a good while since took a rest
And kinder feel to-day
just as though Pd like to see em once more
In the real old soldier way.
Tomorrow they're gon' into camp
Down there on Oleson's Bay
Jim Fernald, Dan, am all the hOys
who served in Company X.
An Mary, tell you, my blood's WAY up
On account of what | saw
In the paper to-day, how the folks of the north
Are tired of so much bout the war.
Perhaps they are, but when read
About the "paupcrs in blue"
The same old blood comes boiling up
That rose in '62.
can't forget how the brave young lads
50 many, SO merry, an true,
Went down to the south, an gave up all,
10 be only 'paupers in blue"
My memory's good for all these things,
An remember, too,
How the men with money who staid at home
W ere klnt to the boys In blue.
don't forget that gloomy time,
In the spring of 6l
When Beaurcgar fired on Sumter,
An the strife mad Just begun.
Who our dear old flag defled,
And we will care for those you leave,
For mother, and wife, and child"
They kept their promise, nobly, WE'LL
And it isn't the men re knew
no point to-day the finger of scorn
AT the poor old "paupers in blue"
But these whipper-snapper, youngish men,
Who talk SO big IN loud,
And think that they can points give
To an "old Grand Army crowd"
They are the ones, who now today
Give each old soldier a stab,
And fear we'll bankrupt Uncle sam,
By the "lnfamous pension grab"
"Paupers in blue" Not yet, guess.
Though we're bent with years and toll,
And we proudly wear the badge that tells
How we fought on southern soil,
Thank Cod, we can hold up our hands to-day,
With the consciousness of men,
For we were the bows the fearless bows
Who faced the bullets then.
tel you there's folks livin' yet
Who honor our rank an file
For they haven't forgot dread AndersOnvile
Nor Libby, nor yet Belle Isle
/ sense it pretty well to-day,
That our time is getting short,
The long days DRAWN to 4 close
And the battle We'll nigh fought
But believe that over the river
We shall pass in a big review,
And if any body there is sent to the rear
1t won't lie the boys in blue.
But when we get down to camp tomorrow;
Well let the pensions slide,
Wen grasp the hands of Jim and ban,
And our tongues II be united.
Wen talk again Of salem Heights,
And that dread sunday night
Nhcn"ur brave young boys went down III front
In the tilCAest Of the fight
Amt I}.,,.oI.u,,,.ot. a.o+j,,, ,
Where poor Tom Crosby died
We left uu there, below the Ridge,
~ little stream beside.
Poor Tom when get to thinktn' Of him
There's something comes like tears,
IN a queer lump rises in MY throat
FOR all lt's 50 many wears.
But Mary, drank from the same cantech,
And each others thoughts we knew
And when he fell that awful day,
The bullet hurt mt, too.
Wen speak of the terrible Wilderness
Ana of those Who died in the fray,
And wen drop a tear for Sedgwck,
Who fell that ninth Of May.
When | ret to thinktn' oye, those times
Amt the dear OH comrades true,
| feel a Aind Of pity for them
That call a~ ''panperS in blue.
They'll never know what It's to meet
And good Old times renew.
They'll II never know hat lOv to greet
Each dear OLD friend in blue.
Ana though we're swiftly mrnin gray.
And our numbers CROWN few,
We am't quite goud an ready vet
I" he called the 'paupers in bluc.'
They say We want THE earth, an Nm that,
Bet we only want uIIr dug,
For all we dii and suffered when
We wore the armN blue.
But tomorrow ! won't think of that
He , itI.r Sid