The National tribune., 1902-09-18
THE oRGAN-GRINpER.
By EUGENE F. WARE.

BY EUGENE r. WAhE-
I'm ignorant of music, but still, in spite OK
l always drop a quarter in an organ grinders
hat.
lar noise,
Around which gaily gather all the little girls
and boys;
While solemn, sad and hungry stands, q
turning at the crank,
A nob'eman from Europe OF attenuated rank:
The nobeman looks sad, but gives with Or
ganistic glee,
ballad of old Ireland, the jewel Of the
sea-
| 1.-THE most distracted country that we have
ever seen;
They're hangin' men and women there for
wearin' of the green
For wearin' of the green, for wearin' Of the
green;
They're hangin' men and women there for
wearin' of the green"
ing off with me,
Who claimed home in ireland, the jewel
of the sea;
My comrades and my meSsmates, none Drav-
er or more true;
Holding aloft the Stars and Stripes. a-wear-
ing of the blue.
Alasi far down in Dixie their many graves
are seen;
Beneath the grassy hillocks they are wear
ing of the green.
Immortal little island No other land or
cline
Has placed more deathless heroes in the
Pantheon of time.
Anon the noble Roman brings his music to
halt.
There seems an Indication of a neighboring
revolt.
He takes change of venue OF about dozen
feet,
And enfilades the windows that are fronting
Around him whirl the girls and boys, with
animated glee.
Once more he grindS; l recognize Der
Duetscher COmpanie."
Der Deutscher companie ish her beshtest
The music bears me backward to the year
of '63.
I saw a German regiment step out from our
brigade;
dred cannon played;
Its bugles hurled defiance as it skirmished
up slope
Amid a fire that gave no man a promise
of hope.
They fell like wheat; they came not back; at
night no bugles played
There was no German regiment attached to
our brigade.
The world has seen thy yalor, o land Of
song and vine!
Since Hermann plucked the eagles from the
ramparts of the Rhine.
DOWn NalOr luStTOuS COiOuuuuc 10 seen tnO
marble throng-
Thy warriors and thy scholars, o land Of
vine and song.
About this time the nObleman Is asked TO
take a rest:
The fires of Indignation light up his Romul-
istic breast.
He stops the crank; he gazes up defantly.
yet mute,
While from the second story there proceeds
ancient boot.
With steady gaze he watches it, and, like
nf
He accurately calculates its hyperbolic curve.
He lodges it: he marches on; but soon this
man of Rome
Begins again to turn the crank,-"Johnny
comes marching home"
when Johnny comes marching home again,
hurrah! hurrah!-
The women will sing, the men will
shout.
The boys and girls will all turn out;
Wen all be gay when Johnny comes
marching home"
And then 1 think of those again who went
They knew where they were going and what
they were there for;
They felt that there was little left of present
or of past
OF hope. of home. of future. if the die were
wrongly cast
Fires smouldered at the fireside, when the
Nation called, ITO armS!"
My comrades left the forests, the foundries,
the farms;
They fought the Nations battles, on the land
and on the sea-
Alas. alas! no millionaire to war went OF
with me.
The merit of the country marched, and filed
the Union ranks
The money of the country marched, and
filled the English banks.
At last, when all was over, and Johnny
ceased to roam
He came with bugles playing: the specie
sneaked back home.
o outcast organ grinder thy simple ballads
start
The frenzy of the cyclone through the ht3h-
lands of my heart.
Some sneer thy ragged music, because to
them there comes
No bawIing of the bugles no raving Of TIE
drums.
They hear no 'boots and saddles" soundin9
in the midnight chill;
They hear no angry cannon thunder up tn
rocky hill.
They hear no canteens rattle; they see -
muskets shine.
AS ranks sweep by in double-quick to brace
the skirmish line.
Go play thy simple music. o friendess sport
of fate.
The ballads of the people are the bulwarks
of the State.
The bugeS that hang dreaming now, like
bats upon the wall,
Remember well those chOruses which rose
above the call;
And in unconscious musings, those battered
bugles see
T>1,rc ,tN "a A. t.