The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1902-11-24
zee EIoeUENT BUeLE.
It's the Mouthpiece of the Army, the
Commander and the Clock.
(Auanta ConstitutionO

ATLANTA Constitution.9
HITS reveille says good-mornin',
An then when the sun sinks low,
There's a goodnight gun
That the day is done,
An. it's off for three hours or So
With a bottle Of beer
For a private's cheer
On 'tick' when his pays in sight
an some SiugS for the curse
OF soldiers thirst,
III taps sound last goodnight.
There was the loud boom Of the even
Ing gun at Fort Mcpherson as the
bugle sounded the last note of ''re-
treat" The soft twilight which a per-
feet September day throws about her
shoulders with the approach of the
cool night air was fast claiming this
little world Of armyville for its own.
tron its very heart in the square brick
headquarters" 70 the rows OF officers
houses and the barracks of the en-
HsJed men that lost themselves IN the
deepening shadows at the other end
OF the long parade ground
There was an omnipresent stiffness
following the notes of the bugle and
the report of the gun, broken only bv
the distant command of the non-con-
missioner officer and the steady tramp
OF the marching guard. Private Jim
my of the Sixteenth watched the re-
treating figures of the squad until they,
too, were swallowed up in the dark
ness. Finally he broke a silence of
several minutes.
It's the music of that bugle." he be-
gan, that keeps me enIistin' an re-en-
listin' in this bloomin' business of SOL
oler1n'. I just can't get along without
IL All this here talk about the violin
sure makes me sick. You'll read these
mere books about some Teller pickin'
up a fiddle an telling by the way he
plays all about his lost love, an all
that kind of rot
The fiddle for dancin'. the drum for
buIlyraggin' you into marchin' miles
further than your legs could carry you
alone, but the bugle for talkin' every
time
AN these yere storm pieces on the
piano. If they amt enough to drive
any man out in the rain. I'm sure
oeserter. Did you ever see any man
when one of these here females gets
10 rumblin' over the lower part of the
instrument, start to turn up his coat
collar? No, you didn't If the light
nm was goin' to strike you dead the
next minute. the piano couldn't tell
you nothin', an all that imitation
thunder sounds more like the growlin'
OF a cur with the collie than a. dis
turbance Of the elements.
But just let the bugle sing out clear
- @ASN4AA Ia uC QCGs Ia dc zee. Ia de
dee-an' you'll see every man in the
regiment hurryin' into his overcoat at
the warnin' call. Could the violin or
the piano tell you anything like that?
NO, they'd go right on biIlyhowkin'
about sunshine an thunder an never
say nothin' after all.
SHOW me the instrument that can
tell you, after hours of marchin'. with
your tongue swollen to the thickness
cracked an bleedin' with the awful
thirst that's frightened your throat past
oreathin, that there's somethin' real
wet TO quench your sufferin'? There
amt none except the bugle, an when
you hear the water call from that
divine an blessed instrument at such
time, there amt no oratorfos or
orchestras or church organs with all
their harmony that can just naturally
speak the words of God sayin' that
| there's an end to ali your agony like
the little brass horn of the army.
oh, it's lovely music an it's always
tellln' you somethin' from first call an
reVeille to tattoo an taps An what's
more, 1t tells you Sonethin' you've got
TO do whether you like it or not. an
you'll hear me swearin' at its COM
Elands damned sight oftener than
I'm refectin' on it's poetic beauties,
L near
the voice of his sweetheart calm out
a welcome into the darkness from the
garden gate, an havin' had consider
able experience with both forms of en-
Joyment. I ought TO know
Did you ever hear a fiddle try to
initiate boots and saddle'?"
The Constitution man admitted that
he had.
Wasn't 1T painful? Now. honest. OF
L mo Ir7gN ~,
as much like a bugle as a pretty fe-
male ankle looks like a bale of hay2
Them raspin' notes is all right for
| sendin' these here Christian soldiers
| a-canterin' an a-gallopin' to their
| hymn books, but they wouldn't send
the rawest recruit in the service to
| horse.
Its the moUthpiece Of the army. is
/ the bugle- Kind of secretary to the
/ commandin' officer An it's many the
| time I've seen thousands bein' bossed
| by bugles. in way that proves that
this here instrument I'm talkin' of not
only can say things, but can mean 'em
/ IN way that every man who hears
| takes immediate notice.
| Fact is, pardner, there amt much
| that little horn can't say. It can play
| the 'Rogues' March in a way that
| must sure make one listener. curse the
/ udy ne was porn, an nail an lOur
| afterward it'll be playin a funeral
march in a manner that'H make you
/ hear a mother, what's a thousand
/ miles away, sObbin' as if her heart
would break. An after you've been
| fghtfn' on the fire line with an empty
/ stomach for steady company, it's re-
markedly refreshin' to hear the bugle
| soundin' to the rear 1t can halt you
/ send you forward at double quick in
| tours right, column left, or any old
way. It can call you to mess. send
you to a fire or tell you to rise UP
or be down. There amt much it can
! do in the way of speakin' to a soldier
what understands
But what I used to like best of all
was nights after we'd been marchin'
up or down that cursed Cagauan val
ley fghtin' tropical sunshine an heat
/ such as the devil an all the angels
/ of hell couldn't stand, to lie down an
/ try an get my breath an hear the
| bugle soundin' taps an after that rest
/ and quiet an thankin' God that ]
wasn't detailed for sentry duty. When
| you hear taps comm up from a long,
| long ways off, it sure comes the near
est thing TO havin' your sweetheart
| lean over an whisper in your ear
| goodnight an I love you, of any
experience you'll bump into while you
stay in those blistering islands of the
| kingdom of hell"
He Didn't Guess It.