Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1901-08-30
An Armle.. Hero.

of the old soldiers of the Union army
have intervals of sore depression, such
as come over me at times. A feeling
comes upon me, sometimes in court,
that after the intense experiences of
war time the commonplaces of my own
life are scarcely bearable. 1 think OF
the sacrifices made, the lives lost, and
the burdens assumed, and n cloud
come over my mind. 1 want to get
away from courts and lawyers, away
from business, away from the city.
am moved by Il strong impulse to &C
wandering, l don't care where. All
this troubled me greatly until three
years ago.
"Ope night, acting on the impulse to
wander, yielding to the feeling of de.
preston, dissatisfaction and disap.
pointment, 1 was walking ut night,
swinging along in the old army step,
when l came upon Il silent, armless fig
ure. A stately, soldierly man vas
walking like Il sentinel along the space
given to the front of a new building.
He greeted me cheerily and 1 recog-
nized a cOmrade of the old time, who
lost both arlns in battle. l knew that
he had married in the first year Of the
war. and l had heard there were chill
dren. but l had thought of him in all
the years as m inmate of a soldiers
home. 1t startled me to find him on
active duty as II Waterman. 1t was
clear that the inconvenience as we'll
us the burdens of life pressed heavily
upon him, and yet here he was giving
me a greeting that could come only
from a %contented, happy a
II stopped to talk with him and smil-
ed as he drolly excused himself for not
shaking hands. He asked me how l
was feeling, and 1 told him frankly.
He came close to me. and said: why.
colonel! With your splendid army rec
ord, that is to go down to your chill
dren and grandchildren, with the scars
you bear that do not prevent activity
in public life. with your family, and
your comfortable home, and a living
assured to you, why should you be dis
contented or depressed? I am not,
and yet 1 have not your hands nor
arms. I cannot do what l want to do,
but behind me, rs you know, is as fine
a record as your own
II looked at him for n moment in
pity. He told me that with his pen
sion from the government, and with
the work, that came to him because
people knew and trusted him, he had
nothing to complain of. He told me
how his little grandchild was always in
a state of wonder about his arms, and
of how lie felt when her little baby
hands fluttered in a caressing way
about the stumps at his shoulders, and
of what consolation came to him from
her wonder-stricken. big blue eyes of
how proud his children We're that he
had been a soldier among soldiers: of
how all those children had been infiu-
enced by the sclf-discipline that came
to him during the war, and of what
happiness there was in his humble lit
tie home.
II thought of my own position. of my
hundreds of loyal friends, of my large
salary, of my comfortable home, of the
respect in which 1 was held by my as
sociates on the bench, by the lawyers
of the city, by the old soldiers, aud l
resolved then and there that no muir
murs should come from me. If n man
without arms, with little else than his
pension to depend upon. could work
c%heerfully at the humber employ
mcnts, and live on the glory of his
achievements. why should 1 despair?
My armless friend simply carried the
soldierly spirit of acceptance into his
everyday life, and I found later that
there were a good many men like
him."-Chicago Inter Oceat.