, 1898-12-09
%HALLORAN. HERO.

A company of soldiers had Just
marched by the hotel in Joliet. The
banner of the free floated over them as
they passed down the street to the music
Of the local band on their way to San
tiago. The proprietor of the hotel, a
veteran of the Confederate army, gray
haired and decrepit, sat ON the piazza
of the hotel, the fire of patriotism in
his eyes. Beside him sat his wife mend
ing a hole in the heel of a stocking
stretched over a gourd. Her placid face
reflected a contented mind. Yet the
blare of trumpets and the tramp of
martial feet awoke in her mind one of
those philosophical reflections which
have puzzled the brain of wise mel ever
since the birth Of time. Her thought
found expression in these words:
"Jabez, why do men kill each other?
Does it make a man happy to shoot a
bullet into another man? You men are
so hard for us women TO understand !
Why, if you should strike me in anger,
Jabez, l should think the world would
ONE to an endi"
Eyes, yes, my dear. " replied the old
man gently. You might well think SO,
but ever since the world began men
have fought with each other. Why.
Cain killed Abel, according to Scrip
ture, because of jealousy, and ever since
that time murder has been committed
for love, for hatred, for money and al
most every other reason which you can
imagine, Maria. 1t seems to be u part
Of human nature, this killing business.
Why, l suppose that more men have
been killed In the name Of religion than
for any other cause except perhaps for
liberty. The very men who were driven
ont of England by religious persecution
ard who we're the first white men to
settle in this Countrywide Puritans-
whnt do you suppose they did, Maria?"
II dunno, Jabez." replied his wife.
"What did they do:"
"They killed OFF all the Indians in
New England, go that they could get
possession of the land. The white mon
called it the survival of the fittest or
some other high sounding thing like
that, but l always called it murder.
Dear, dear!'' said the old lady in a
flutter Of excitement. but tell me,
Jabez, is that what the Americans are
trying to do with the Spaniards?"
"No, Maria; this war is different.
We don't want the land of the Span
iards. We have moro than we know
what to do with now We are helping
the Cubans to free themselves from the
oppression Of Spain. This is a war for
~humanity's sake. to save the lives Of
starving women and children. This, in
my humble opinion, COMES very near to
being a genuine holy war. The Ameri-
JAMS who die in 1t. whether from dis.
ease or violence, are as much martyrs
as II they died at the stake. There will
be q long list Of those heroes, Maria, at
the Judgment day-nen who died in
order that ignorance and superstition
and oppression might be killed. 'Tis a
shame, Maria, that the blood of noble
men must be shed, but there seems to
be no other way, my dear there seems
to be no other way!"
Here the cid philosopher rested his
hands on his ane and looked out drear-
lily over the landscape, contemplating
the mystery Of human thought and 40
ton. From far away came the echoes
Of the martial music, while the street
was etill disturbed by ripples Of excite
ment like water in the wake Of q steam
boat. Suddenly raising his head, the old
man continued:
Talking about wal reminds me Of
Mike Halloran. He was one Of the he
o Q ] was telling You OF. You don't re-
member when that Illinois regiment
went by this hotel in 1851, now. do
your?
mo, I don't, Jabez, " said Maria.
"You know we weren't married them"
"That's true, Maria. l had forgotten.
IT'S go many years ago. And I suppose
! never told you about Mike Halloran,
either, did /, Maria?"
mo, Jabez, was the reply. II can't
recollect your aver saying anything
about him. Why. who was hef"
Jabes lit his pipe. pulled reminiscent
ly for . minute, and then replied:
"Derned il I've thought Of Halloran
for nigh on to 30 years till yesterday,
Maria. Not for 80 years. You zee, Mike
was . hostler in this hotel when the
war broke out Fine, big, strapping
fellow he was too. He married Ellen
Riley, one Of our chambermaids. She
had cheeks like roses in the snow, and
they had one child, a boy. Wonder
what's become Of Ellen and the boy?"
Here Jabez dropped of into a day
dream about the uncertainty Of human
life. and Maria gave him q dig in the
ribs to wake him up.
'Ehf' said be, blinking. What did
you my, Mariar
"You we're telling about an Irishman
and his wife. What about 'em?"
"YeA. yesi" rssaned Jabex s-astily.