Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1899-04-15
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 hole in the heel of a stocking
stretched over gourd. Her placid face
reflected 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 men ever
since the birth of time. Her thought
found expression in these words:
'Jabez, why do men kill each other?
Does it make 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, should think the world would
come to an end"
YES yes my dear, " replied the old
man gently. "You might we'll 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 part
of human nature, this killing business.
Why, 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 We're driven
out of England by religious persecution
and who were the first white men to
settle in this country-the Pu1itans-
what do you suppose they did, Maria?"
Il dunno, Jabez," replied his wife.
"What did they do:'
"They killed off all the Indians in
New England, so that they could get
possession of the land. The white men
called it the survival of the fttest or
:0me other high sounding thing like
that, but l always called it murder"
Dear dear!" said the old lady in
f1utter 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 more than we know
what to do with now. We are helping
the Cubans to free themselves from the
oppression of Spain. This is 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-
cans who die i'll it, whether from dis
ease or violence, are as much martyrs
as if they died at the stake. There will
be long list of those heroes, Maria, at
the Judgment day-men 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 wayn'
Here the old philosopher rested his
hands on his cane and looked out drear-
lily over the landscape, contemplating
the mystery of human thought and ac-
tion. From far away came the echoes
Of the martial music, while the street
was still disturbed by ripples of excite
ment like water in the wake of steam
boat. Suddenly raising his head, the old
man continued:
ssToll oh .
Mike Halloran. He was one of the he
roes was telling you of. You don't re-
member when that Illinois regiment
went by this hotel in 1861, now, do
you?"
mo, 1 don't, Jabez, said Maria.
"You know we weren't married then. :"
"That's true, Maria. had forgotten.
'Tis so many years ago. And l suppose
never told you about Mike Halloran,
either, did l, Maria?"
"NO, Jabez, was the reply. 81 can't
recollect your ever saying anything
about him. Why. who was he?"
Jabez lit his pipe, putfed reminiscent
ly for a minute, and then replied:
"Derned if I've thought of Halloran
for nigh on to 80 years till yesterday,
Maria. Not for 30 years! You see, Mike
was a 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, boy. Wonder
what become Of Ellen and the boy?"
Here Jabez dropped off into day
life, and Maria gave him dig in the
ribs to wake him up.
"Eh?" said he, blinking. "What did
you say, Maria?"
"You were telling about an Irishman
and his wife. What about 'em?'