The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1892-04-30
PHIL ]! OH, PHIL p
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Continued From First Page.
view Of the approaching parade. Every
body was determined to zee Phil Sher-
dan The presence of General Grant
himself could not have evoked more
spontaneous ovation. Sheridan was the
idol OF those irrepressible frontiersmen
and mountaineers, many of whom had
followed lis fortunes from 81 to IS, and
had fought under his banner in all his
campaigns until peace came with Apo
mattox.
There was a blare of bugles, caval-
cade of mounted policeman, brass
band and then the carriage, containing
the little military chieftain, turned the
corner and cane down the street toward
the spot where was standing. Then a
! fierce, wild outburst from 10000 throats
tore the atmosphere into tatters. Once
more and once again the ear-splitting
yell drowned the brazen notes of the
band and then died away. The crowd
was too anxious to see Sheridan to waste
any more time in splitting it's lungs into
fbres.
The carriage was within twenty-five
feet Of me when I was startled by hear
ing a strangely familiar voice on my
right cry out:
phil Oh, Phil p
turned and recognized "Old Blink"
A little more haggard and bent, little
longer and prayer locked, with his great
cleaning eyes shining like twin stars,
the mascot of Del Norte stood leaning
forward in the crowd, among which he
lowered like an aged giant, waving his
long, gaunt arms wildly at the passing
carriage. There was hungry appeal in
the voice that bordered on supplication
and caused hundreds of eyes to turn
from the carriage and it's distinguished
occupant to the strengthening speaker.
"Phil 4 oh, Phil p
General Sheridan heard the cry this
time, and, looking quickly around, began
to scan the massed faces as il searching
for some one.
"Phil Phil it's rae; it's Blink r. and
again the arms of the old tramp went
into the air like the sails of windmill.
He had caught Sheridan's eye.
Aud then the Denver populs co wit
messed something it did not understand,
and about which it talked for weeks. It
saw General Sheridan stop the carriage,
leap quickly to the street, force his way
through the crowd, place his arms
around the neck of our unkempt old
tramp and kiss him fair in the face.
Then he led the miserable looking tramp
to the carriage, placed him beside him
self, and the parade was resumed. Every
body who witnessed the scene accepted
RS an explanation the statement that it
was one of Sheridan's old soldiers, but I,
who had listened to and laughed to
scorn "O]d Bink's'' story at the camp fire
in the Sierras San Juan, knew better.
I knew that Binkley was the man who
had given Sheridan to history. George
and Phil met again. What passed be-
tween them must be written by other
pens than mine. know only what I
know.
Several days afterward L again met
"Old Blink" Sheridan and his staff had
returned to Chicago. Blink wore new
suit of clothes, but looked as if he had
just recovered from protracted debauch.
In answer to my look of surprise and
inquiry he explained:
"No, I wouldn't go back East with him.
He gave me q stake and I've bowed
most Of it in already. I ain t fit to asso-
ciate with Phil any more no how, and I
amt going to disgrace him, but [ couldn't
live there. I'm off for the mines, tomor-
row. Phils all right, and "Old Bink's'
all right, and 80 what's the difference?'
He turned his eyes in wistful way
toward purple bank of clouds resting
Oh the far-off peaks of the Rockies, and
/ noticed tha5 he had aged rapidly since
I had known him in the San Juan re-
gion. 10 further questions he gave eva
sive answers and we parted. never
saw 'Old Blink" again.
A year and a half ago l was again in
Colorado, after an absence of fourteen
years. I had been engaged in investiga-
ting the stability of large dam being
erected on the headquarters of Cherry
creek, about thirty miles south of Dem
yer, near the summit of the divide, and
was returning to CastleoRock station
late in the evening accompanied by
citizen of the latter place. Our route
lay over the high "hog back" or divide
| between Cherry and Willow creeks, and
our ponies made slow progress. We had
reached the top of the descent leading
down mile or more to the little NOUN
tain village. The sun was just setting
behind Gray's Peak to the south. and
forty miles distant Pixies Peak stood
lonely in its grandeur, thrusting an lev