The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1895-12-04

Deace and prosperity-men who nave
seen dozens. hundreds Of their cherished
comrades slaughtered in hattie with the
Sioux-it is they who see the other size
Of the picture, and ask: ITO what pur-
pose? To what endg'
Outbreak has followed outbreak, cam
naicn has followed campaign, each
marked by bitter losses in many resl-
ment. each swelling the list OF the
widowed and the fatherless, each ter
minated by the final surrender OF hostile
bands satiated with the summers slaugh-
ter and shrewd enough TO know that
they have only TO wave the white rag OF
Submission to be restored TO public con-
fidence aud double rations. Step aside
now. gentlemen of the army, bury your
dead. patch up your wounds, go back TO
your stations and get ready for another
shindy in the spring. You have had
vo1r annual outing, the Indian only his
first innings. Now comes his second.
Now the bureau takes hold, and away
go the prominent leaders of the red re-
volt in the annual pilgrimage, the an
nual starring tour through the east, and
the sentimentalists swarm TO meet them,
and wheresoever they stop hosts OF our
fellow citizens throng to smile upon
them. eager to clasp and shake the hands
that less than month ago were reekIng
with the blood OF mutilated soldiery for
whom desolate women and bereaved lit
tie ones are wailing hopelessly today.
We victisi
Go on in your triunphal circuit, red
brothers Rain-in-the-Face, Thunder
Bear. Blizzard Hawk Rejoice III the
sunshine of your prosperity; go back to
YOUR new lodges and unload your chests
of plunder, the tree will offerings OF
YOUR palefaced kindred. The war has
made ven rich. Your squaws and chill
dren revel in food and finery galore, and
should supplies begin to slacken up lit
tie with the coming of another spring
shoot your agent, carry off his wife and
daughters. and start in for another sum
mer of fun. As for you, weeping widow
and children of Captain Somethlng-lve
forgotten his name-shot from ambush
by the Sioux last fall, get back to the
east as best you can, dry your tears, and
be happy on twenty dollars a month.
It's what ore must expect in marrying
into the army.
And now the last of the blue column
has passed through the western gate,
and a throng of comrades surges after,
every man in the garrison, not other
wise on duty, trudging down through
the mist and mud to see Berrien's bat
TALON to the waiting train. The guard
springs to arms and falls in line-the
guard whom Brewster was to have re-
lieved at eight a. m.-and again the
major lowers his saber in acknowledg-
ment of their salute. and so, down the
winding road, tramp, tramp, steadily.
cheerily, even joyonsly, they so, and
the broad parade above is silent and de-
serted. Women are sobbing in one an
osher's arms, and Mrs. Berrien, seated
ut an upper window looking out to the
west, Is stroking Winifred's glossy, rip
pling tresses-W -Winifred, who, kneeling
has buried her tear stained face in he.
mothers lap. Fainter and fainter the
martial strains come floating mp from
the wooded valley. The band is play
ing another quickstep now, its prelude
full Of vim and life and spirit, and
then What strange inspiration has
possessed the leader? Listen! listen,
Winifred raises her head and looks one
instant with dilated eyes into her moth
er's pallid, quivering face; then, cover
L cla,,lav- hands
burrowing again into her mothers lap,
she bursts into passion Of tears. Listen!
Sweet. soft. sad. the beautiful notes of
the thrice beautiful old song are waited
up on the gentle beeeZe. God. to how
many a breaking heart, how many a
world worn, weary. yearning soul has 1t
not spoken!
Love not, love not, ye hapless Sons Of clay.
Ii Is too much for Mrs Berrien. Brave.
self controlled, accomplishing as she
has been through it ali, this Is test be-
yond her strength. Down comes the
window with sudden clash, and then,
drawing her daughter to her breast,
| clasping her in her loving, sheltering
arms. the mother heart gives way, the
sorrowing wife bows her head, and,
rocking to and fro in worldless grief,
! mingles her tears with those of her be-
| loved child.
Cheer upon cheer comes swelling on
! the morning air. Cheer follows cheer
| rs Berrien's men return the soul stirring,
soldierly goo5by. Guidons wave from
the throneing platforms. Bronzed faces
| peer from every window. Hats and
! forage caps are tossing on high. Men
rush alongside the slowly starting train
for one last handclasp Of the departing
comrades. The echoes ring to the r0l-
! licking notes OF their old charging.
lighting tune The trumpets answer
from the crowded cars. The san bursts
| through the eddyiug mist and streams
/ IA glorious radiance upon the scene. All
here at the station thrObs with soldier
song and spirit and enthusiasm, but
| aboye-above, where in mournful pre-
monition one poor army wife is weeping
over three little curly heads pillowed in
! her stTsiining arms, there GENES 10 sound
/ Of soldier triumph, no echo of soldier
| song. Sunshine and stirring music FOL
low the swiftly speeding train, bat all is
dark and desolate now where gladness
reigued but a day gone by.