Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1894-09-27
The Old Prisoners Song.

An exciting episode occurred about 9
o'clock yesterday afternoon on the steps of
| the postofhce. For a few moments there
were indications of riot. Postmaster
ODonnell and policeman being the OBJ
Jects OF the threats of large gathering of
| grand army men. The discipline in which
the old soldiers had been schooled prevail
ed over their temporary incitement to
make trouble.
: The cause of the racket was E. W. McIn-
tosh. veteran of the Fourteenth illinois
Volunteers, who had been for eight months
prisoner in Captain Wirtz's summer re-
| sort at Andersonville. He has been for
some years q resident of Decatur, ILL.,, but
resides now in Indianapolis. He sells pho
tographs of himself as he appeared when
| released from Andersonville, a living skele-
! ton, books detailing his prison experience.
more horrible than any tales of Calcutta
black holes. and sings songs which he has
himself composed.
lie visited Postmaster ODonnelPs office
| and asked to sing, from the big front steps
couple of songs to the old Grand Army
men, who were clustered thick upon the
steps and standing about in groups on the
broad pavement in front of the postofice.
The postmaster gave his permission. and
Mcintosh went out and sang
Postmaster 0'Donnell stood at his win
| dow and listened. He supposed, as a
matter of course, that the Illionis ex-pris
oner would sing some song of war times.
OF bivouac or battle. The first verse and
the chorus were enough for the postmast-
| er.
Mcintosh has strong voice and a clear
enunciation. The moment he timed mn
thrumming guitar as an accompaniment
to his clarion tone, people focked from
every direction, and within half a minute
800 people were massed upon tho stems
and on the sidewalk, entirely blocking
three out OF four entrances to the post
ofice f'
The first stanza and the chorus which
| Mcintosh sang ran as follows:
AS SIT idly dreaming of the happy time
that's gone,
Not dollar in my pocket and the winter
coming on,
The thing that breaks me up the most, and
makes me feel so small,
Is the sight of that old dinner-pail that's
hanging on the wall.
Grover, Grover, you robbed the boys in
blue
What have you done for the laboring man
Since the fall of '92.
| Hundreds and thousands are in an awfnl
| nix,
But wen have Mckinley and protection in
eighteen ninety-six.
| There was more to come, but il did not
come. The postmaster rushed from his
Office seized the singer by the arm and
told him he could not in that way blackade
| the postoffice entrance. A uniformed no.
lice man who had rushed into the crowd
was summoned by the postmaster's fin
ger, and took Mcintosh in tow, couduct-
ing him down through the crowd to the
| sidewalk
The scores of veterans raised voices of
protest. Many clinched fists were lifted
and Kisses and groans were heard. The
officer was pushed roughly bnt he remain
cd good patured and got his man out of
the crowd. There he informed Mcintosh
that he was not prisoner, but that he
must not sing and attract crowds on the
postofiice steps nor on the sidewalk.
Mcintosh was taken in charge by some
old soldiers, who returned into the pOstof-
tice with him and introduced him to Capt.
Skinner. the Pension Agent. on the second
floor. There the old man was given per-
mission to set up his stand and ply his
| trade. He was invited To sing at the meet
| ing Of the Seventy ty-seventh Pennsylvania
Volunteers in the Pension Office, and
made hit.