The San Francisco call., 1897-05-30

father was almost as much pleased at his
approval as he was when he won Antie-
| tam.
He always had half doz = dogs about
the place, but his favorite pet was old Dan
Webster, a sixteen-hand bay horse who
had been given him by some New York
gentlemen just before "the seven days"
For the last ten years of his life Dan never
did a stroke of work. He was popularly
known in the army as that Devil Dan,"
and he was always worthy of the name.
Dan had just passed his twenty ighth
birthday. He had celebrated it as he
usually celebrated important events in his
later career-by slipping his halter and
running away. His great age and quiet
country life ought to have made him re-
spectacle, but I am sorry to say that he
never recovered from the demoraIizing
effects of army life.
Toward evening as was his wont, Dan
quietly trotted home and ate his feed with
an enthusiasm worthy of New jersey oats
Then, without any apparent reason, he
lay down, as it afterward appeared, for the
last time.
When Dan heard my father coming to
him he reused himself and tried to get up
and stand at attention, like the good old
soldier he was. He tried again, but his
strength was going, and he fell back and
whinnied plaintively as his master sat
down in the straw beside him.
There was nothing the matter with Dan
but old age. He had lived twenty-eight
years, and when his time came be gave up
! his life uncom plainingly, as soldier
should.
! My father took Dams head in his lap
and sat there most of the night, scratch
ing the old horses ears and feeding him
sugar, lump by lump. At o'clock in the
| morning Dan refused his twenty-first
| lump of sugar, The end has come"
said his master. And SO Dan died; his
two ruling passions strong in death-hls
love for his general ana his fondness for
lump sugar.
We buried him the next morning in
great hole that had been dug beside
rock in the garden. We children rather
enjoyed the funeral. but my father i'd
not. He shoyeled on the earth himself
and as we left the grave I wondered why
he seemed SO much affected and why he
said "Good-hy, old friend; good-by, my
dear old Devil DAN"
Ny father put off sending me to school
as long as he could. l know that leaving
him was a wrench to me, and / think that
he felt the parting as much as l did. He
chose a school for me on the Hudson
| chiefly. l fancy, because it was a military
| school. AS graduate of West Point he
| firmly believed that no man could sue
cessfully battle with life without at least a
rudimentary knowledge of the manual of
arms and minor tactics.
On our way up to Sing Sing he was very
silent, but as we neared our journeys end
he said:
81 suppose. boy, that should give you
the usual fatherly advice on leaving son
at school. 1 don't know exactly what to
say to you. 1 have always tried to do nv
duty, and / think that / have done it.
Make up your mind what you think is
right, and then do it, no matter what it
costs you."
By this time We had reached our desti.
nation. After introducing me to my
schoolmaster and inspecting my quarters
the time came for my father to leave me.
l had always kissed him before this when
l said good-by; but this day when he left
me he only took my hand and shook it
and said as be got into his cab, ''You' re a
man now, boy" He choked down what
was almost sigh as he said 1t. II
When 1 went to college my fathef was
quite as much excited over this important
event in my life as was myself. Moth
ing pleased him better than to come to
Princeton during term time and practi-
cally to live the life of an UNDERGRADUATES
| Ia fnnk int ;v
would almost rather have had me a sue
cessful athlete than a scholar. He was
himself a very powerful man and like all
| strong men thought that the rest of the
| world should be strong, too.
The name Little Mac" given my father
by his soldiers was more an expression of
endearment than description. He was
not small man, although the great
| breadth Of his shoulders made him appear
shorter than he really was
His height was5 feet 81 inches in his
stocking feet. He had cnest measure.
ment of 45 inches inflated and he weighed
$50 pounds.
1t used to be source OF regret on my
part that he had not been born in an age
OF amateur athletics, for l naturally took
tremendous amount OF pride in his
strength. de not only in his younger
days had the reputation of being the best
rider In the army, but also of being one of
its strongest officers. When at w est Point
he could smash three-quarter-inch door
panel with his naked fist, and was a capi-
tai ambidsxtrous fencer.
Even in later life he kept his physioue
and weighed no more at the time of his
death than he did a quarter of century
earlier. When he was so years old l saw
him bend dime double with the thumb
and tirst two fingers of his right hand.
/ He was an enthusiastic Alpine climber
and initiated me into the delights of that
greatest of all physical pleasures almost
as soon as | had left my nurses apron
strings. We spent altogether seven sum-
mers at ST. Moritz, in the Engadine VAL
ley of Switzerland, and he gradually edu-
Gated me up from almost level paths to the
hardest of ice work.
He loved flowers and never took walk
without returning laden with them. His