Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1889-09-19

ably all of rs were fhinkin' 'twould be
the last time we should see that great.
honest, smilin' face: know thought
so.
''Cool," says /. tryin' to act as
though believed he was cert'in sure
to get there. ''you be real econ omical
about distributin' that water because
it's got to last 'em all day."
you go long" says he, shown his
white teeth. and of he went.
Then the balls began to sing. We
dursn't go up the rise of ground for to
watch him. but after half an hour one
man did venture to reconnoitre that
old field, and reported there wasn't
anybody lynn there. SO we knew he'd
got to the ravine-like place where the
men was. After he'd been away q
couple of hours he come back, Cool
did. as cool as ever.
didn't hit We. did they?" says
Chaplin.
s.You bet they did, thoughr' says
Cool. They put two ventilatin' holes
through the legs o. my boots goin'
over, and tore a hole in my pants and
one in my jacket sleeve a-comin' back;
but mebbe you don't call that hittin'
me. an dono as twas" says he,
laughin'. For true, not one of them
bullets had so much as drawed drop
of blood!
'Twasn't very long after that we was
sent into the rifle-pits. some OF us with
rations for twenty-four hours. How'd
you like that, boys, spendin' day and
a night into a hole in the ground. with
chunks of salt beef-'.old hoss." we
called it-and tough, dry bareback to
chaw on?
We had twenty-four hours rations.
as I was sayin'. and, as luck would
have it. we couldn't get out of them
pits for the next seventy-four hours.
and you'd better b'lieve there was con-
siderable growlin' and grumblin'.
Twas ruther unpleasant; no way to
sleep except sittin' up. and finally
nothin' to eat. / didn't blame the men;
in fact was quite little riled myself.
But Cool was as cool as a cucumber.
He joked and laughed. and sang, and
held up on his broad shoulders more'n
one sleepy, tired-out head.
When some of 'em would make dis
paraging remarks, he'd boiler out:
Come. boys. stop growlin'! We're in
for the old flag; hooray!" and so he'd
kind of heart US up.
He was always dom that; he was as
clever as a bobolink. Nobody was
sick or wounded but what he was the
first to help. I've seen him give up
his blanket many time to some poor
fellow shakin' with chill, and let an
other, burnt up with wound-fever,
drain the last drop out of his canteen.
when nobody knew if we should get
any more water for a hull day. And
he always made as though he hadn't
done nothin'.
Well, when this cruel war was
over" as the song says, and the regi-
meut was mustered out, it come about
that Cool and took the same train to
go home, though lived way up in
Vermont. and he was a Connecticut
the window.
He'd been as composed as chaplain
at funeral all those years, but he
seemed now as though he was on
tenter-hooxs all the way. He wrastled
about, and got up and sot down more'n
forty times, and never said two words
all the way; but when we Stacked up,
and a brakeman hollered out: ''Sil-
verbridge!" he give me a grip. froie
on to his knapsack. and give a rush.
looked out of the window. for
thinks L: There's girl waitin' for
him. and he hasn't never let on about
her."
Sure enough, there he was, his face
all broke up. as you may say, red as a
beet, holdin' out kis arms to-a gray.
old woman, tears runnin' down her
face like freshet. Twas his mother!
That was the last see of Old Cool
Rose Terry Cooke, in Youths Com
Danion