University of Michigan - Michiganensian Yearbook (Ann Arbor, MI)

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When he again opened his eyes tears were in them. Jim, he said in husky voice, Jim I ' m going before long. When you go back to the boys at college, tell them I I I . He faltered here and after a short space The chimes Jim I hear the chimes God God is kind, Jim r Another pause. Oh will you you hurry, Jim ! Only three minutes left and and I won ' t bolt. I can ' t bolt I But then an angel in Heaven took pity and came down, and angel and hero left me there alone. And so passed the life of a Michigan student soldier at the foot of El Caney. The Bachelor ' s Reason. i. J ikwjjOU ask me for a story of the war. Really, Joe you could not t bear with me if I should repeat incidents with which you are B familiar. Why, you know almost every inch of ground in H Cuba, for oft have I portrayed my war experience to you. Let me H k tell you tlio ' . two stories that I heard last night. I was at the Club H B as usual a crony with the cronies. The smoke was as thick as a B F Cuban fog, and how well can I see that choking vapor as it settled HF over the boys back in ' 98 when our regiment was camping around VVLw Siboney. The smoke, as I said, hung thickly; but just as the double B doors at the far end of the room swung to and fro a space was Jr fl cleared, and through the curling wreaths a black face appeared. It f } L was the face of Ebony, the veteran porter of the club. Stories had gone the rounds and now a cry arose, Eb ! A story of the war from Eb. Well sah, gemmen, Ah clean doan ' know what to tell. It am so long ago. But dare am de ole familah face ob Mistah Seby, and aldo it am wrinkled now, an ' his hair am grey, Ah can see him many, many years ago at Siboney, hey-ah-ah! Well sah Ah ' ll neber foahget de time when Ah cooked foah him an ' de company, an when he done doctered de rice. One day we had rice; Mistah Seby he have a frien ' who mess wif him, and he say to me, ' Eb, Ah want to play a joke on Fred an ' besides Ah want all de rice foah Ah am shore hungry. ' Says he ' Ma stomach am strong so jus ' yo ' drap a liza ' d in de pot. : Ma Lord ! I couldn ' t spoil de rice so Eb says to hisself, ' humph, umph, dis niggah won ' spoil no rice, ' so I jus ' took de top ob a boot an ' cut a liza ' d out

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U ' ell you see, Mr. Editor, John is a soldier, and oh ! he is such a brave sol- dier too. He is my brother, and when I was downstairs with Mrs. Wallace I heard a man say that you would know all about the soldiers up here, so when Mrs. Wal- lace left me in the store for a little while I just came up to see. Now honestly, do you know, Mr. Editor? Please tell me about John, for mamma will be so glad to know. The editor found it hard to keep back a tear as he listened to the earnest inquiry of this wee little maiden as to her soldier brother ' s safety. He took her into his arms and as he looked into her soft blue eyes, he was reminded of his own little girl who had been taken from him years ago. What is your brother ' s name little dear? he said to her in a low gentle voice. Why, don ' t you know, Mr. Editor? she said, It ' s John Campbell, and he ' s a Rough Rider. For a moment the editor could not trust, himself to speak. The words of the message, on the block-house at San Juan came back to him. He thought, too, of the little girl ' s mother who was sick in a tenement house, and perhaps wait- ing for her soldier boy to return. Then he pressed her to his breast and said so quietly and gently that she could scarcely hear him, My brave little girl, I am quite sure that John is out of all danger now, God bless you ! R. P. A Soldier ' s Death. HE wind had died down, and within an hours time I ' d be on sentinel duty Phil had grown much weaker that afternoon and his flushed face told of his extreme suffering. He tossed restlessly on his gray blanket and at times, in his delerium talked of Mac and Shep and our other college chums. I sat by his side heartsore and anxious, and regretting more than I can say that I had persuaded him into enlistment. Finally he lay still and opened his eyes. Ah ! It ' s you Jim, he said, half smiling, then added, Been any more firing to-day? I shook my head. Jim, it ' s all up with me. I ' m done for. I could not keep back the tears. He noticed this. There old fellow, never mind about me. There ' s many another of us will stay on this island, and mother ' s and - He closed his eyes for a dozen minutes. I could see by the trembling movement of his lips that he was praying.

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and drap it in de pot. Well sah, when Mistah Seby he pull de leathah liza ' d out ob de pot his frien ' say ' Ma God! I shore doan like rice, ' hey-ah ! hey-ah ! ah ! ah ! But ah am sorry now ' cause dat poor boy am dead. Jus ' hab Mr. Seby tell de story dat he once tole me ' bout de purty girl. II. FRIENDS and fellow soldiers, all these years have passed and never have I told you of what Eb christens the Story of the Pretty Girl. But wounds are healed and my pride has lost its youthful sensitiveness. The Rough Riders as you know consisted of men from all parts of the country. It happened that when we landed at Siboney on that long-to-be remembered day in June, 1898, I met Frederick Mead a man of excellent family, a fine fellow, and a gentleman. He was from Virginia and I from Michigan. We, mutually attracted, as men sometimes are, paired together and agreed to lodge under the same pup tent, and mess in the same pot. I need not relate the various events which occurred between the time of landing and the day of that memorable charge on San Juan. With those you are already too familiar; but I never shall forget the night before the battle. Fred and I lay side by side in our little tent, talking of the morrow and the past. ' Seby, ' said he at last, ' I don ' t relish being shot tomorrow. ' ' Strange isn ' t it ? But neither do I Fred. ' ' I was just thinking of a pretty girl away off home. Maybe she is dream- ing of me now . ' Well, well, Fred! But say it ' s odd. I have had similar thoughts myself. ' ' If she ' s not dreaming of me, she ' s thinking of me. ' ' Shaw. ' ' And she said, when I gave her the big solitaire diamond that she ' d always be true. ' ' Well, I ' m out a ring myself, old chap; but whether my lady is true or not I ' ll never swear till some worthy pastor ties the knot and later sprinkles dust. I haven ' t seen her for a year. I ' ve been to college, but still she writes a faithful hand. ' And friends, allow me to digress here. She visited the little town of Ann Arbor once and there wasn ' t a fellow in the place that didn ' t soon discover his heart cords twisted. I sang in the vested choir then. One Sunday morning before I met her I discovered a pair of big beautiful brown eyes in amongst the abundance of Easter hats, and after that whenever the choir sang ' Te Deum, ' I (in a spirit of silent worship) was thinking Te pulcram laudo ' Come Fred, what ' s your lady ' s name? ' ' Gertrude; a pretty name, Seby. ' ' Well I ' ll vow, ' tis strange, and so is mine. '