The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1898-03-17

Jet . costly and Troublesome piece a
machinery. A strong military power
II popularly considered . menace to
liberty and free institutions. A stand.
Ing army, on the contrary. fosters that
military spirit which tends not to de-
stroy. but to uphold and protect gov.
ernment While the enlisted man Il
withdrawn from civil pursuits, his body
10 trained In strength and endurance
bis spirit In courage. self-sacridce and
obedience. The mental drill he has re-
ceived IN schools Is balanced by whole.
some gymnastics for body and soul.
Vast China, ruled by schools and exam
nations. her military spirit in utter
decay. lost the day to little Japan, who
had bred soldiers and sailors, and could
fight a. well a. write.
In his technical schooling, too, the
soldier learns habits Of order, punctu.
ality and courtesy that are invaluable
in the arts Of peace. An unbiased
American observer says Of EARNED
Europe:" "The army y the great ns-
tional school Of industry. It takes .
mere solitary human clod from his slow
field task. 1t places him among his fel-
lows; It teaches him to listen. to find
his speech, to use his eyes. There is
no better foreman In the world than the
ex-noncommissione officer"
The soldier IL not the enemy of arbi.
tration; indeed, 1t 10 his forceful pres
encc which hinders war. "What Is war;"
said Uncle Toby, "but the getting TO-
gether Of quiet and harmless people
with their swords in their hands, to
keep the ambitious and the turbulent
within bounds?" Such Is the service
performed by the armies of Europe, as
well as by our little frontier garrisona
among hostile Indians.
Highest of all ends promoted by our
army IL the active patriotism which the
soldier learns: "That country's the
thing men should die for at need" A
president and a white house do not,
perhaps, appeal to the Imagination as
do queen and palace, yet our Ameri-
can soldier is as true to his land as is
Tommy Atkins when he says, through
his spokesman, Rudyard Kipling:
You 'aven't got no families when serv,n'
Of the queen;
You 'aven't got no brothers. fathers, sis
ters. wives or sons.
II you want to win your battles. take and
work your bloomin' guns!
\ private soldier now In our ranks
has written occasional verses that ex-
press the same loyal sacrifice of self.
Though Private Stokes cannot rival
Kipling in the lively dash of "Barrack-
Room Ballads" or Whitman in the
solemn beat Of "Drum-Taps," yet III
"Riley's Grave" the soldier writes a
touching epitaph for his fallen COM
rade. The background of "a long, red
Texan day" and. a distant brook sur.
rounded by fierce Apaches is filled in
with the careless scamp from far New
York" who gave his life in order to
fetch water to the wounded:
My God! The air was winged with lead.
That shrieked and spat and tore,
Until he staggered. dripping red.
Into our midst once more.
Not infrequently in these circum-
stances the soldiers grave is made
hastily by night close to the picket
line; there the trampling Of the horses
obliterates all traces of burial, and thus
cheats scalping savages and hungry
wolves of their prey. For such an I'M
marked grave are the soldier-poet's
lines:
The prairie flower will bloom In spring
Around the soldiers bed,
The brook In lettering circles sing
The dirges of the dead.
The desert winds in freedom sweep
Across the silent scene,
And loyal hearts forever keep
His memory fresh and green.
Whether the soldier sleeps under
the picketline or in the peaceful bar
rack room, his day ends with the slow,
solemn music OF Taps" The trumpets
sound the notes both over his bed and
over his grave. In the garrison the
call means lights out" and with
the last note our fort sleeps wrapped in
the solitude of the desert. The cry of
coyotes comes from the foothills, and
the hoot of the owl from the mountain.
N. y. Outlook.