The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1890-12-26
THE OLD SOLDIERS NEW YEARS.

THANK Godv7 said the car driver, earn
estly, as the great church bell, three OF
four blocks away, struck the midnight
hour on New Years eve.
What fort" asked the passenger who
stood mufied up on the front platform,
putting at a short pipe. There had been
no conversation, and the drivers pious
ejaculation seemed to have startled him.
The driver looked around, doubtfully.
1t seemed as If he wanted to speak, and
yet besitated to talk to a stranger. The
other smoked onin silence.
at always makes me glad,n said the
driver after a long pause, when another
year goes by. l don't know but what I'd
fight as hard as the next man for my life If
| had to. It's natural, l suppose. Every
body hates the notion Of dying when it
come to the pinch; but after all it's
mighty comforting to know that you've
got n less year O this to go through"
Then he stopped, and the passenger walt
ed a little. Finding the driver had stopped
he said between puffs. Don't find it worth
while, CHI"
eyes, I do" retorted the driver half an
grily. 81 don't rightly know how to ex-
plain it, but maybe you'll know what |
mean If you were in the army. Did y
ever go through a big battlesn
The passenger nodded, and the driver
continued: well, then. p'raps you've felt
like you'd be glad when twas over. You
warn't afraid exactly, and you thought it
was worth while to keep on fightin' under
orders, and you had no thought o. runnin'.
but all the time you kept thinkin' how
hard it was and how you hated to keep on.
And when you noticed how the sun was
goin' down in the afternoon you thought
how pleasant 'twould be TO wrap yourself
up in your old blanket, and lie down on
the ground and sleep and dream about the
folks at home
Another nod and another pause.
Things is a good deal like that with
me-" continued the driver, il a voice that
was not exactly sad, and yet had no ring
Of hope or gladness in it. I'm a drivin'
up and down this blessed old road thirteen
hours a day, and maxim just enough
money to keep tn old woman and me from
bein' hungry or cold There don't seem to
be anything in it. does theres And yet it
is worth while in one way. amt exactly
religious. You wouldn't think / was TO
hear me cuss sometimes, but I learned in
the army that nothin' gives a Teller SO
much satisfaction as helpin' somebody else
that's in trouble. and that's come to be a
sort o. religion with me-. So L jog along,
getting what satisfaction I can out Of it
all, but desperate tired of the whole bust
ness.
And when look around and see other
men it's like the army again The officers
get more pay II better rations and better
clothes, and some of 'em ride horseback,
instead o. carryin' a knapsack and gun;
but after all they're all doin' about the
same work, and there's mighty few of 'em
that would be missed much If they was
killed.
"Of course, there was q time when I
didn't feel that way. 'Tain't natural for u
young man to feel the same as an old fell
low like me, and I was as spirited and
lively as any o. the other boys, but I've
had my day.
Il s'pose a man feels different, too, when
he's got children of his own CROWN up
around him. Me and TIL old woman are
all there is left low, and we hain't neither
of US goin' TO last much longer. I'd be
sorry to go and leave her if I thought she'd
have much longer to wait before we'd be
all together again, but I know she'd foller
me pretty soon if it come my time, and,
stranger, l have a powerful longin' once in
q while to see my boy an girl again |
don't think that's ~cowardice, is it, You
know an old soldier would hate to be q
coward, no matter what might come to
him. We've all got to stay under orders
as long as the Commander-in-ehief wants
us. an I'm willin' TO stay here and peg
away the best I know as long as he says.
All the same, III be glad enough when
my time comes.
las I said, it's the children, after al
49, .-oI-1. Ill IL l-x-- -z-t-
ever had children of your own, stranger.
and known what it was TO lose 'em''-
The driver looked around, but all he
saw was his passenger jumping off the car.
DAVID A CURTIS.