Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1901-09-11
est letter his father had ever penned
It was as follows: VI u IS a. IA

~ WdS as 1OllOWS: r.. KS :<:ss$ 45. lt
IT have slipped away.from camn ana i.
countless Interruptions and taken q room
al the hotel tonight, dear Sandy. for T
want. TO have q long talk with my boy
talk we ought to have had before. IN,
It Is my fault that we didn't. I shranI
from 1t somehow. and now am sorry for ii.
our frank and manful letter. tellirr
me OF your severe loss and of the weak
ness mat followed. reached me two days
ago, Your mothers came yesterday, fond
s er tnan ever and pleading for you as only
. nnnt 81. can. It Is a matter that has
. cost US Al dear financially, but thanks to
.nat loving mother. you were promptly
euaoleo 70 cover the loss and save your
name. You know And realize the sacri-
! nNe Esne had to make. and she tells me
.nat you insisted on knowing. am glad
you oid' my boy. I am going to leave in
your hands the whole matter Of repayment.
"A young fellow Of 20 can start in the
army with many q worse handicap than a
oeoe OF honor and a determination to work
IT on. That steadies him. That matter
really gives me less care than you thought
Tor. 1t Is the other-your giving way to
an impulse to drink-that fills me with
concern. You come up like man, adj
nit your fault, and say you deserve and
expect my severe censure. Well. I've
thought 1t all over, Sandy. My heart and
my arms go out to you in your distress and
humiliation, and-I have not one word
Of reproach or blame to give YOU .
For now shall tell you what j had
thought to say when your graduation drew
| nigh, had we been able to master me-
chanics and molecules and other mathe-
NAUTICAL rot not as useful to a cavalry OIL
Ger as binocular to q blind man, and that
ought to have told you when you start
ed out for yourself as young ranchero,
but could not bring myself to it so long
cd IN hoN j,o01 foo tinr hot
way. Times. men, and customs have great
~ changed in the last 10 or SO years, my
boy. and greatly for the better. Looking
back over my boyhood, can recalfno day
when wine was not served on your GRANDPA
theirs table. The brightest minds and
bravest men IN all Kentucky pledged each
other day and night in the cup that some
| times cheers and ofttimes inebriates, and
no public occasion was complete without
champagne and whisky in abundance, no
personal or private transaction considered
suspicious unless appropriately wet
'Those were days when our statesmen
| reVeled In sentiment and song, and drank
and gambied with the fervor of the fol-
lowers of the races. I was boy OF ten
der years then, and often, with my play
mates, l was called from our merry games
to join the gentlemen over their wine and
drain bumper to our glorious Harry of
the West and before I went to the Point,
| worst. whiskys made in Kentucky-we all
did-and the man or youth who could not
stand his glass of liquor was looked upon
as milksop, or pitied, and yet, after all,
respected, as 'singed cat-a fellow who
owned that John Barleycorn was too much
for him. and he did not dare single round
with him.
'"Then came the great war; and wars are
always in one way demoralizing. West
Point In the early sixties was utterly unlike
the West Point of to-day, and no worse
than dozen of our greatest colleges. The
corps still had its tales and traditions of
the old-time Fourth of July dinners at the
mess hall, when everybody made a dash
for the decanters and drank everything. in
sight. 1t was the only day in the year
on which wine was served. It was in my
time the invariable custom for the SUPER
intendent to receive the board of visitors
on the day of their arrival at his quarters
and to invite the officers and the gradual
ing class to meet them, and to set forth,
as for years had been the fashion at Wash
ington, wine and punch in abundance, and
the very officers detailed a. our instructors