Year: 1874

are not IN lne neFu 10 sLAuu IN the DrOll-
ing sun and admire the Others. Why
this should be so, what peculiar satisfac-
tion the man in the procession derives
from it, and what object he has in view,
are problems yet to be solved; and yet it
is probably the height of the ambition
of every average man to see the day
when he shall go in procession; happy
if he can march on foot; doubly happy
if he can carry the star spangled banner,
or some other banner bearing a strange
device, thrice happy if he may ride
horse, terrify the women and children
with the caracolings of his fiery
charger, and shout hoarsely at his divis-
Ion of the procession. All of this is
more remarkable from the fact that the
procession is but child's sport, with
the difference that the paper hats have
been changed for beavers with feathers
in them; the lath swords for steel ones;
the tin pan and whistle for the drum and
fife; the red flannel stripe and bit of blue
ribbon for a variegated uniform be-
spangled with jewels and CANDY with
tinsel; and the stick which the leader
straddled so gratefully, for live horse,
which the leader, nine times out of ten
straddles ungracefully.


The effect of the procession upon the
individual hardly has parallel among
natural phenomena You butcher or
your shoemaker may be, and probably
is, very ordinary man; not blessed with
wealth or beauty, having no soul-crav-
ings or yearning desire for the good, the
true and the beautiful; the owner of a
brood of rather dirty and promiscuous
children; with an intellect capable of the
scientific carving of sheep or skillful
cobbling of boot There is nothing
majestic or awful about him. You
would not invite him to your soires as
paragon. Indeed, in his morning call
at your house, your servant receives
him and they gossip together in a friend
ly way. But once array your butcher in
plug hat and white apron; throw an
emblazoned crimson scarf about his
muscular shoulders, put boiled shirt on
him and stick rose in his button-hole;
hang two or three tiusel ornaments on
his manly breast; and if he be a large
butcher, let him carry banner stuck in
pouch, looking as if it were rooted in
his ample corpus, and he becomes meta
morphosed into another creature. As
he marches along in his stately manner,
keeping time, time, time in sort of
Runic rhyme TO the Standardization of
the band, he is an awful and majestic
being, who towers above you as you
stand upon the curbstone, and looks
down upon you as one of the sans citIoftes.
Yesterday he wonld have taken off his
hat to you; to-day, if he sees you at all,
he only secs you az an atom; one of a
thousand, admiring him a. a magnificent
being, only equaled by royal potentate
and possibly surpassed by Sultan in
the grandeur of his bearing and the
gorgeousness of his apparel. As you
retire to your chamber at night with the
confused pictures of flags, banners,
crosses, swords, aprons, horse-collars,
trombones and guns fitting before you,
| the vision of this ma jestic creature ap-
pears, looming up like Mont Blanc
among lesser hills. You regret now that
only yesterday you vexed his great soul
with complaints abont tough beef; that
you had threatened to discharge this
awe-inspiring creature and employ an
other. You regret your dullness in not
recognizing the possibilities lying dor
mant in him, and you mentally resolve
to make your respects to him, the Thrice
Illustrious Prince, or Most Eminen,
Grand Seigneur, or High and Top-Lofty
Baron, commanding the Most Stunning
Knights of Pythagoras, and request the
pleasure of eating tongh steak hereaf-
ter.


There is one man in the procession
however, who dOes not possess these at
tributes. He Is the last man. II is sad
that there must be last man In a pro
cession, but il must always be 80, until
some way is discovered of making up
the procession in a circle, and then Civ
ing it motion like rotary shell, turning
around its own axis and going straight
ahead also, This last man is a weary
worn, pathetic creature, who looks as Il
life was burden to him. He is a rusty
seedy biped, without any good clothes


No stars blaze on his breast. No ban.
ner shields him from the fiery sun. Hi
ear never hears the inspiring notes o.
the band. He catches all the dust o.


the procession. Bystanders rush il


front of him with impunity. He has
no pride at all. There is no pomp abou


him, no majesty of mien. He Away


looks sick, tired, disheveled and forlorn
Small boys jeer at him. BUS driver
contemptuously order him out of th'


way. Reckless young men make des


perate efforts to drive over him. HI


gets mixed up among newsboys, boot


blacks, yellow dogs, advertising wagons


fan sellers, drays and frantic womel


rushing after erratic children, and lose


the procession, and by the time he re


gains it, he Is a poor, harassed, dejectet


man and brother, and an object of uni


versal pity. The chances are that If h


does not go off with sunstroke, or &c


run over by an Ice cart and have to b


taken home in an express wagon, he will


as the result of his pathetic situation, &c


drunk with remarkable dispatch befor
sunset. So long as there must be las
man in every procession, there shoul
be some compensation. He should b
made attractive. Let him be handsome
ly decorated and caparisoned. Let hin
+ have on two aprons. Let him carry
, banner and have an American flag


his hat. Let him also have a draw
sword with which to keep of the smal
. boys and yellow dogs, and thus the la'
: man in the procession will cease to be III
most wretched object in existence.


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