Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1891-08-14
Women in tho War.

It was saying of the Duke of Well
ington that, next to defeat, the saddest
thing is q victory. The horrors of a
battlefield after the contest is over
the sights and sounds of woe-let me
throw pail over the scene, which no
words con depict to those who have not
witnessed it. One drop of balm alone,
one drop Of heavenly, life-giving balm,
mingles in this bitter cup of misery.
Scarcely has the cannon ceased 10 roar
when the brethren and sisters OF
Christian benevolence, ministers Of
compassion, angels of pity, hasten to
the field and the hospitals, to moisten
the parched tongue, to bind the CHASTITY
wounds, to soothe the parting agoniea
alike Of friend and foe, and to catch
the last whispered messages of love
from dying lips. "Carry this miniature
back to my dear wife, but do not take
it from my bosom till I am gone.
"Tell my little sister not to grieve fol
me; I am willing to die for my coun-
try" "Oh, that my mother were
here" When, since Aaron stood be.
tween the living and the dead, was
there ever so gracious minister as
this? It has been said that it is a
characteristic of Americans to treat
women with Difference not paid to
them in any other country. I will not
undertake to say whether this is so
but will say that, since this terrible
war has been waged, the women of the
loyal States, if never before, have en-
titled themselves to our highest adj
riration and gratitude-and those who
at home, often with fingers unused to
the toll, often bowed beneath their
own domestic cars, have performed an
amount of daily labor not exceeded by
those who work for their daily bread,
and those who, in the hospitals and
the tents of the Sanitary and Christian
Commissions have rendered service
which millions could not buy. Hap.
PLY, the labor and the service are
their own reward. From Edyard
Everetfs address at Gettysburg.
Gen. Grants Story.
Gen. Grant used to take great de.
light in telling this story: There is no
better, more fearless or more loyal
soldier than was old Jack Dublin, but
he had one fault, and that was an
overweening fondness for the whisky
bottle, or rather for its contents. He
had a boon companion, whose real
name I never knew, but everyone
called him Uncle ST. While in camp
old Jack was taken i'll of fever and,
despite the unremitting attention OF
Uncle 81, died. The corpse developed
an unusual rigidity after death, and a
strange tendency to fly into sitting
posture. Accordingly on tho night
before it's burial it was stretched out
at full length upon board resting
upon two wooden trestles, with its
head and feet tied down by ropes.
Old Uncle ST insisted upon watch
ing the remains of his dead friend.
Shortly after midnight he became
very thirsty, and stepped out to a
neighboring suffers to procure drink.
During his somewhat protracted alb
sence two large cats found their way
to the tent containing the remains OF
old Jack, and when Uncle 81 returned
he was naturally indignant at seeing
these felines sitting on the corpse-one
at the head, the other at the feet.
Selling billet of wood from the
ground, he aimed powerful blow
with it at pussy sitting near the head.
It missed it's mark and struck and
severed the rope holding down the
head of the corpse, which Immediately
few into a sitting posture. Selling
the dead man by the shoulders and
forcing him back into recumbent pc.
sition, Uncle 81 exclaimed in an az.
grieved tone: "Darn ye, old man, lie
down and keep quiet; I'll attend te
the cats"