Thomas County cat. [volume] (Colby, Kan.) 1885-1891, 1889-05-30
GRIN AND BEAR IT.

GRIN AND BEAR IT.
Bob Burdette Gives Some Of His Coed
Advice to . Young MAN.
My son, your brow is clouded; some
thing has happened that didn't and
doesn't agree with you. Were you
neglected in the invitations? Didn't
you get on any of the committees!
Were you overlooked in the conven-
ton? Hasn't the secretary written
you q personal letter asking your adj
vice upon the campaign? Have you
been coldly passed over for men OF less
ability? Do you feel that an intention
al slight has been put upon you? Can
you see clearly that every thing is
going wrong because you have not
been consulted? Have you been d.
rectly snubbed by inferior people? l
thought as much. At your time of
life such things are very liable to oc-
cur They used to happen with me now
and then. You will grow wiser as you
grow older, unless you take the other
chute; then you will grow more fool
ish, and there is only one cure for an
old fool, my boy-that is, death. Or
binary death won't cure him. either.
Though thou shouldest bray him in q
mortar among wheat with a pestle.
yet will not his foolishness depart
from him." See how awfully dead he
has to be killed! Smashing him only
makes him worse.
But now, if any or all of these sights
have been put upon you, listen to me,
my tender Telemachus. Don't show
your sores. Oh, don't show your sores.
They are not pleasant things to look
at, nobody wants to see them and they
will heal much more rapidly and nat
urally and BEAUTIFULLY, if you don't
expose them. Keep them covered.
Don't show them to any body but your
surgeon, and don't show them to him
unless you have to. And, don't look
at them yourself. Leave them alone
under the healing plasters of time and
the cool congresses of forgetfulness,
and you'll be surprised some day when
you do happen to think of them. to
find that they have healed by the first
intention without scar. Don't tell
people when you are hurt; don't tell
every body how keenly you feel
slight when, perhaps. there
was no slight intended. Don't
get yourself snubbed by people
who never see you. and who
don't know you and never think
of you. And if you really are hit,
and hit hard, it belittles your manhood
and it drives away human sympathy
when you lift up your voice and howl
on the streets. Keep quiet about it.
Don't whine; don't yell. One day, at
the investment of Vicksburg-it was
on the memorable 22d of May-during
a lull in the desultory skirmishing
that preceded the assault, while was
lying close to the surface of the great
round globe which we inhabit, and
wishing / could get little closer to it,
we heard tremendous bowling and
shrieking, and down the dusty road
from the front came a blue-jacketed
skirmisher on the trot. holding one
hand up in the other, and the hand he
was holding up had no thumb on it.
It hurt like the mischief, I have no
doubt, but 1t was only a thumb after all.
and how the fellow was bowling about
it He was brave man or he wouldn't {
have been where he could have lost
that thumb. But you would think it was
the only thumb in the whole United
States army and that no one else on
the skirmish line had been hit that
morning. So the soldiers saw only
the funny side of the picture, and a
perfect chorus of howls, in vociferous
imitation Of the mans own walls,
went shrieking up from the sarcastic
line of the men who were waiting
their turn to face death. In a minute
another soldier came walking back
from the skirmish line. He was walk.
ing slowly and steadily. never a moan
fell from his compressed lips, though
they were whittier than his bronzed
face, and he held his hand against his
breast The silence of the death
chamber fell upon the line in an in.
stant as the figure of the soldier
moved along the road with the air oil
a conqueror. Half dozen men sprans
to his side. Tenderly they laid him
down in the shadow of great oak
his lips parted to speak a mes.
sage to some one a thousand miles
away, and the line was short one man
for the coming assault. He died of his
hurt; but he died like a king. Oh,
my boy! don't yell the lungs out Of
you over a mashed thumb, when only
three files down the lines soldier sa-
lutes his captain before he faces about
to 60 to the rear with death bullet in
his breast You can't help getting
hurt There isn't q safe place in the
whole line. There are cruel people in
the world who love to wound us; there