The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1907-08-08


God bless old Kentucky, She kept
her quota full on both sides all the
Time" But there were persons in all
the border States who tried TO keep on
both sides, and of course that often led
to ludicrous incidents.
L remember one old man particularly
in our neighborhood who undert Jok the
plan mentioned, and he made a miser-
able failure of it. He was very eco
nOnical mar. Often when out for a
horseback trip be would walk and lead
his horse IN order to save the wear of
his saddle. Once While thus travelling
he met a squad of soldiers dressed in
gray, and supposing them to be Confed-
crates he began 10 hurrah for JEFF Da-
Wis They were Federal soldiers, gotten
took that old man and gave him an
awful whipping and sent him on his
way-not rejoicing, however.
Shortly afterward he met another
squad of soldiers. They We're dressed
In blue, and being possessed of the idea
that they were Federal soldiers he be-
gan to YELL "Hurrah for Lincoln :"
They happened 10 be Confederates, got
ten up for that express occasion, and
they took that old man and bent him
over a fallen tree ana gave him another
terrible whipping.
Not very long after that the old fell
low met another squad of soldiers-it
doesn't make any difference how they
were dressed. He didn't do any ''hol-
Ierin'." One of the soldiers asked him !:
what are you, old manf" WELL" said
he, Ito tell the truth. I'm nothing, and
nightly little of that"
One day in the autumn of 1861 there
stood in line in the streets of my native
village two comparl es of young men,
one going to the FEDERAL army AID one
to the Confederate; one in blue and one
in gray Sadly they shook hands and
many wept, but they parted as friends,
and schoolT.ates and neighbors, and fire.
quent were such expressions as: Jim
mic, if l ever see you in battle I'll
shoot i'm another direction" or, George,
If ever meet you in charge I'll run
my bayonet in the ground"
1t was less than twelve months after
that those two companies did meet, and
ii was on Shiloh's dreadful field. But
their protestations of friendship, if not
forgotten, were at least UNDECIDED.
1t was no time for sentiment-not
even common politeness-
Amid the two mighty armies that
crashed together there no time was CIV
en- to two squads of country boys-even
from the same neighborhood-to in
'dulge in the courtesies of any occasion
other than such as they could hand out
abruptly through the death-dealing
tubes of their rifles. Amid sheets of
flame and the clash OF resounding arms,
amid the roar and smoke and carnage
of battle. it was one long and deadly
and desperate struggle for the mastery
and when the powder clouds blew away
there on that ensanguined field lay, side
by side, brothers and schoolmates,
friends and neighbors. some in blue and
some in gray, silent in the soldiers last
sleep.
Four years afterward, diminished in
numbers to less than a tenth. those two
squads returned to their native village.
bearded men and veterans, to talk
about those who came not back and of
the scenes through which all had
passed
The day that those two companies left
their native village their sweethearts
came to bid them good by.
I remember the case of one boy and
his sweetheart, notwithstanding he was
a very homely boy. She was a bright
eyed little beauty, with dimpled cheeks
and chin, and fiossy curls, and pretty
hands and feet. Her good-by was a
smile that was tinted with tears, and it
was given with gentle touch Of trem-
bling fingers and the faintest quivering
of rose-hued lips.
But right there and then, at that ten
der parting. that boy gave that poor
girl some pOetry-poetry that he had
written himself And what was mean
er, he tried to impress her with The idea
that he had just dashed it off while
standing there in that crooked line of
recruits. when the fact was that he
struggled over those twelve lines for as
many days and nights like WORKOUT
team at a stalled wagon. These are
the lines.
'Goed-by, my little blue-eyed belle:
Don't cry and let those tear-drops tell
How much you wish I'd stay.
I'm coming back with honors won
BY noble deeds, most nobly done,
Amid the fercest of the fray.
Good-by, my gentle little girl,
And try, my hearts most precious pearl,
To be as happy as a fay.
Through dangers all III live for you,
And come home honored, tried and true,
And love you, live for you, Away.
Now the cold-drawn, petrified truth
Of the business is that that young poet
soldier didn't believe the war would
last more than three weeks by fast
watch, and fondly hoped that the entire
iamboree would be over and done with
before his regiment could organize and
get to the front
But it was not that way. He had
some of the fun and fight as well as
lots of guln-elastic marches through
dust and heat, and mud and cold. and
profanity. The girl was married about
six months afterward, and married to
a fellow who could no more write poet
ry than mule can play the flute.
All wIrs produce great deal of poe
try. Some of it is very BEAUTIFUL, some
of it very pathetic and some of it very
funny, while much of it comes limpine