40 rounds from the cartridge box of the fighting chaplain embracing the "cream" of the "old war songs" and recitations, and the odes of the W. R. C., G. A. R., S. of V

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CMAPIAIM. IQZILR^

ENTERTAINMENTS

For the Benefit of Posts of the G. A. R., and the Women^s
Relief Corps, and Sons of Veterans.

CHAPLAIN LOZIER

Will give one or more entertainments for the above purpose, on
terms that he will guarantee will prove a henefit to any Post or
other organization that sends for him. His entertainments consist
oi his own unique and captivating Speeches and Recitations, inter-
spersed with his own songs and the best old War Songs extant,
Tableaux, etc., etc. One evidence of the captivating character of
the Chaplain's entertainments is the fact that wherever he has gone
they have immediately requested his return; and in nearly every
case he has returned the second night to be greeted by largely in-
creased crowds. His entertainment is entitled

'A flight Witti tlie 'Figlitinj GliaplDiii.'"

Whoever desires him should write soon^ so that they may get
upon his list in time.

For circulars and all particulars, address (with stamp)

J", HI. LOZIEI^,

DEPARTMENT CHAPLAIN, G. A. R.,

FROM THE CARTRIDGE BOX OF THE

Fighi

EMBRACING THE "CREAM" OF THE "OLD WAR SONGS" AND RECITATIONS,
AND THE ODES OF THE

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Per Dozen to Posts, Camps, Corps or Agents, at the rate of 15 Cents Each, Post Paid.

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Should Auld Acpaintance k Forg'oi

And Neyer
Brourtt

TO MIND?

Should we forget the "Boj's" we met
In the days of auld lang- syne?
Chorus.— For aula lang syne, my "Boys,"
For auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' coffee. yet
For auld huig syne.
We twa hii'e dodged among the trees

And pu'd the chickens fine;
But we've wandered mony a weary foot

Sin' auld lang syne!— Chorus.
We're limping lamely down the hill

To life's last "picket line,"
But our old hearts boat warmly still
For auld aid syne!— Chorus.

(THIS BOOK IS COPYRIGHTED-Ar.L Rights Reserved).
S«!nt to any address on receipt of 25 cents, by LOZIER BROTHERS, Mt. Vernon. U

From the Cedar Eapids Gazette, June 1st, 1886.

THE FIGHTING CHAPLAIN

CHAPLAIN^ JOHN HOGAKTH LOZIEE.

Chaplain Lozier,'tlie orator of the day, who made such a ringing,
loyal speech on Memorial Day, was born in Indiana in 1830, and grad-
uated from DePauw University in 1857. He served three years and
three months as Chaplain of the 37th Regiment, Indiana Infantry,
and two years as Major of the 'Tndiana Legion." The later years of
his sei*vice were devoted to providing for the helpless soldiers, and
their widows and orphans, prior to the founding of the Indiana Sol-
diers' Home, of which he was financial agent.

Among the many things written of him during the war, the fol-
lowing, copied from "The Annals of the Army of the Cumberland,"
pages 32-5 and 326, will be regarded as of special weight, from the fact
that this book was compiled under the eye of Gen. Rosecrans, and
was practically edited by the martyr President Garfield:

'•As an instance of the valuable services rendered by the army
chaplains, we may mention that during the battles of Stone River,
Chaplain Lozier of the 37th Indiana was constantly on the ground
assisting in the removal of the wounded, exposing himself in the
most fearless manner to the shower of shot and shell. His services
upon that occasion were of inestimable value, as can be attested by
many who, but for hitn helpless and wounded as they were, might
have met their death at the feet of the trampling hosts rushingon to
the fray."

He was the first prohibition candidate for Governor of the State
of Iowa, and was the founder of the Clear Lake Park, and Religous
Summer Resort enterprise. He has the honorof being the first
mover in the Iowa Tempeance Alliance, and drew the first draft of
its articles of alliance. He was chosen its first president, but declined
to serve because he was carrying the Clear Lake enterprise. He is
now department chaplain of the Iowa G. A. R., and is extensively
known among the boys in blue, not only in the State but the Nation.
His home is at Mt. Vernon, where he has located, in order to afford
his sons the advantages of Cornell College.

THE CHAPLAIN'S RHYMES

OF "TENDERFOOT" a:ND ''GRAYBACK" TIMES.

[As recited "by the author at the great National Camp Fire of the G.
A. R. at Sau Francisco, August 1S86, at the conclusion of the speeches
of Comrades John A. Logun, O. O. Howard and Commander-in-Chief
Lucius Fair child].

I

Again on the ''homeward march" are met

The Veteran ''Boys in Blue";
The boys who answered their oountiy's call

In sixty-one and two.
Boys who were boys in those lithsome days,

That drift to the ''Long A^o,"
And are still ' 'the boys" in feats and joys,

That only Veterans know.

SHAKE.

11.

For when comrades meet^ they whiles repeat,

Their soldiering days of yore;
And renew the scenes (and the "Army Beans"),

And fight their battles o'er.
And though they gaze, through a lengtlioning maze,

Of years of toil and pain.
You marvel not, that, — thoee years forgot, —

The "boys" are boys again.

III.

And the fife and drum make the young blood come

In the Veteran's veins anew.
And he answers all the bugle calls,

As in 'sixty-one and 'two
At Revilee he ' 'scratches out, "

With his old-time yawn and rub.
And, anon, you see him "scratching dirt"

When he hears the call for "ofrub."

'"And the flfe and drum make the young'blood co^::!:."

IV.

And the din and clatter of cup and platter.

Brings old-time memories back,
When we first marched up with plate and cup

To Uncle Samuel's "rack."
How our teeth did crack on the old "hard tack,"

But failed to leave their "mark";
How we'd chew and gag over beef from some stag

That descended from Noah's Ark!

*'Uncle Samuel's 'Rack'."

y.

We had read in the Book that when devils forsook

The victim they long had bound,
Into swine they fled, and, 'tis further said

These swine — not the devils — were drowned.
Well, the "boys" relate, that the pork we ate,

Along with our army beans.
Had come from some shoat that went afloat

On that sea ot the Gadarenes!

yi.

And didn't we think it "mighty tough"

When y^Q, first went into camp?
No boards were sent to floor our tent!

And the evening dews were damp !
And you and I heaved many a sigh.

And ruefully scratched our heads,
When we understood our "Uncle" would

Not issue u^ feather beds!

tl^r-

"When we first went into camp.

yii.

And weren't those knapsacks hard as rocks,

We woefully took for pillows?
And didn't those straw bunks torture us,

With their undulating billows?
And didn't those letters j^rs^ sent home,

Their tidings of hardships utter?
We had to drink coffee without any creawj^

And sometimes were out of butter!"

YIII.

And 'tis funny now to remember how

Our ''tactics" we displayed,
As we tramped and trod in the "Awkward Squad"

Of that "Tenderfoot Brigade."
With that everlasting "Left," "Left," "Left,"

That drill with saber and gun ;
And that "Double Quick" — well, it came too thick

To be rated as first-classyi^?^.

'In the 'Awkward Squad'

IX.

But didn't we strut with princely pri4e

When our uniforms we drew?
Coats big enough to take us inside,

And our stolen poultry, too.
Pants — you say — '-cat with a dull wood-saw,

And made to Ht the Buck,"
And you say yourselves that "Number Twelves"

Were the smallest sJioes you struck!

'And our stolen poultry, too."

But though you "struck" no smaller shoes,

The ^^converse^^ may be true:
If you happened to fool 'round a Government mule,

Some smaller shoes struck yau !
And whether or not you escaped his feet,

I'm very certain that you'll
Admit the" fact, that your throat you've cracked,

By yelling "Here's Your Mule'*

"Here's your mule !"
XL

But the funny thing in our soldiering,

Is how we thought it 'lough/'
When we first went in, with our tender skin,

Thousrh of rations vv^e liad enousrh.
But after we'd ' 'been there" a year or two,

The flat side of a rail
Was a "downy' bed; and "nigger bread"

Was better than toast and quail I

XII.

For our stomachs grew much tougher, too,

As well as our heels and hide;
And we didn't "gag" when a strolling mag —

— Got in our meat we 'spied!
If he set up a ''^Pre-emption Claim''

We didn't dispute his terms;
He held his claim; but, all the same,

We went for that "Diet of Worms!"

•That Diet of Worms 1

10

XIII.

And our drinks from bogs where wallowed hogs

Was like nectar that angels quafll
And we gladly went for that old "Pup Tent;"

— 'Twas a palace when we got half.
And when we got where the fight was hot, '

Most any shelter would suit;
And when shot and shell around us fell,

You're right we could *'gi'ab a root!"

But we found short rations and scanty fare
Before the disturbance was through,

But the ' 'boys" declare that the underwear
Was the shortest of all they drew.

You drew that shirt down over your head, -

' — Those drawers up over your feet;

But — short is the tale — you did always fail
To cause those "extremes to meet!"

The ahortcst ol all wo drew."

11

XV.

Or, to use the phrase of oor soldiering days:

That underwear ' 'neglected
To close up the ranks and keep the flanks

And center well protected!"
But ' 'compensations" are everywhere,

And e'en here we got our pay back —
As through that breach we chanced to reach

And capture a straggling "Grayback."

XVI.

Ah! Comrades, what wonder you seem appalled?

What queer sensations creep o'er us
At thought of that insect, technically called,

'-^Pediculous C orpoins P'^
Now, if my meaning you fail to see

In this ancient Roman name.
Just call it a Blouse and skip the ".B,"

And youv'e caught it just the same!

"Pediculus Corporis.

XVII.

Yet no soldier here will drop e'en a tear
For his "gray" old "companions" of yore;

Tho' admitting the fact that they "stuck to your back'
Through all the grim fortunes of war!

12

Thus prejudice patriotism o'erpowers;

For no one amono^ us denies
There was more ' 'soldier blood" in their veins than in
ours,

In proportion, of course, to their size!
XYIII.
And who were more watchful and active than they,

Amid all war's dreadful alarms?
You never attacked them by night or by day,

But you found them "in force, under armsP^
You never betrayed them by guile or surprise,

And nothing their ardor could smother;
If you caused them to ' 'git" from a certain "arm'd pit, "

You soon found them safe in the other!

"In force, under arms."

xrx.

And none of this ' 'sectional hostility, "

His generous nature e'er knew;
The friend of the traitorous rebel was he.

As of Loyalty's legions in Blue.
When he and his family came to our camp.

Full many a big tree and thicket,
Hid oven you chaps who wore feathers and straps,

While you did "private" duty on pick it!

13

"Private duty on ptcTc it."
XX.

Of course your big officers would not confess
To these "naked tacts" when you'd "tree" 'em,

But would boldly declare they had only been there

. To drill for the army lice-see- em I — (Lyceum).

If "practice makes perfect" we all will admit,
That going so often to ' 'train" ment.

That, ' 'stripped for the strife, " they would sacrifice life^
To make that a "crack" entertainment.

XXI.

And now, unlamented by "Reb" or by "Yank,"

The Grayback in solitude sleepeth;
But the chases we gave him o'er breastwork and flank,

Each Veteran's fond memory keepeth;
In "foraging off" of the country" he beat

"Old Billy" the marcher and "bummer";
And none of us doubt that he did ''fight it out"

Like Grant, though it took him all summer!

14

XXII.
It is probably best that I "give you a rest,"

Though it be not the ' 'rest" of my rhyme.
With so "lively" a theme, it would naturally seem

That you don't want too much at a time.
I'm glad if my rhymes of our soldiering- times

Shall add to your measure of joys;
For my subject I know, in those days long ago,

Has 'Hichled^^ the most of you "BoysP^

"Parade's Dismissed."

IS OUR BANNEE STILL ADVANCING?^

BY CHAPLAIN LOZIER.

[Note — All who witnessed the charge of the Union troops upon
Missionary Ridg-e will remember that the whole face of the mountain
soon became enveloped in smoke and dust, so that it was at times diflB-
cult to distinguish our lines of Union Soldiers save by the bright colors
of the glorious old " Stars and Stripes." Hence, all eyes were strained
to catch a glimpse of our Banner, and all were inquiring-: '*Is she still
goingup?" Then again the" OldFlag" would be seen through the rifts
in the smoke and dust, still mounting toward the top, and then there
would go UD a shout that made Lookout Mountain and the Forts around
Chattanoogb re-echo : — '"Yes, she's still going higher and higher I These
incidents gave rise to the following songs or recitations].

' 'Is our Banner still advancing?"

Hear the loyal hosts exclaim.
While the rallying ranks of freedom,

Onward dash 'mid smoke and flame,
Onward up the fort ribbed mountain

'Gainst the leaden storm they passed,
Till the grand old Flag of Freedom,

Waved in triumph o'er its crest!

All songs marked* are published in sheet music, and can be had by
mail, by sending 30 cents to the S. iJainards' Sons, or Root & Son's
Music Co., Chicago, or the John Church Music Co., Cincinnati, O.

15

"Is our Banner still advancing?"

Gasped the soldier as he died,
While the blood his heart was yielding,

Trickled down the mountain side.
But his comrades hurried onward.

Till the mountain top they trod !
They have scaled that dreaded mountain,

He has scaled the "mount of God!"

"Is our Banner still advancing?"

Rings the echo through the air;
Well may freemen swell that chorus,

All their hopes are centered there.
Bear aloft that grand old Banner

While our rallying hosts repeat:
"This shall be our nation's glory,

Or our nation's winding sheet!"

Chorus: — Still advancing, Higher! Higher!
Shout ye loyal! Shout ye brave!
Tyrants, let your hopes expire.
When you see that Banner wave!

YES, OUR FLAG IS STILL ADVANCING.*

Reply to the preceding.— Same author.

Yes! Our Flag is still advancing!

See! It mounts toward the sun!
Rebel legions dash against it,

But it still keeps moving on!

*See page 14.

16

Traitors aim their deadly missiles,
Monarchs frown across the main,

But the foe of human freedom

Aims and frowns and strikes in vain!

Yes! Our Flag is still advancing!

As yon radiant orb of day,
Mounting to its heavenly zenith,

Makes the shadows fade away.
So our Flag dispels oppression;

Lo! 'Tis Freedom's rising sum
Earth's last fetter shall be broken,

E'er its radiant race is run.

Yes! Our Flag is still advancing!

How these words our bosoms thrill!
May our sons in coming ages,

Keep that Flag advancing still.
Till, o'er all this vast dominion.

Where the foot of man hath trod.
All shall lx)w 'neath Freedom's Banner,

All shall worship Freedom's Grod!

Chorus: — Still advancing! O! We hail t ee!
In thy grandeur ever v/ave!
Perish all who dare assail thee,
Grand old Banner of the Brave!

17

THE OLD UNION WA(^ON.^

Written the day before we marched on " Stone Kiver." During which
battle the Emancipation Proclamation went into effect.

BY JOHN HOGARTH LOZIER.

Air—'' Wait for the Wagon."— Key of C.

1

In Uncle Sam's dominion, in eighteen sixty-one,

The fight between Secession and Union was begun;

The South declared they'd have the "rights" which Uncle Sam denied

Or in their Secesh Wagon they'd all take a ride.

Chorus— Hurrah for the Wagon, the old Union Wagon!
We'll stick to our wagon and all take a ride.

The makers of our wagon were men of solid wit,

They made it out of ''Charter Oak" that would not rot or split.

Its wheels are of material the strongest and the best,

And two are named the North and South, and two the East and West

Our wagon bed is strong enough for any "revolution,"
In fact, 'tis the "hull" of the "old Constitution;"
Her coupling's strong, her axle's long, and anywhere you get her.
Kg Monarch's frown can "back her down"— no Traitor can upset her.
*See page 14.

IS

This good old Union Wagon, the nations all admired;

Her wheels had run for four score years and never once been "tired.'

Her passengers were happy as long her way she whirled,

For the good old Union Wagon was the glory of the world!

But when old Abram took command, the South wheel got displeased
Because the "public fat" was gone that kept her axle greased ;
And when he gathered up the reins and started on his route,
She plunged into secession and knocked some "fellers" out!

Kow while in this secession mire the wheel was sticking tightly,
Some Tory passengers got mad and swore at Abra'm slightly;
But Abra'm "couldn't see it," so he didn't heed their clatter—
"There's "too much black mud on tlie iiVieeZ," says he, "that's what's the
matter."

So Abra'm gave them notice that in eighteen sixty-three,
Unless the rebels "dried it up," h'ed make their slaves all free;
And then the man that led the van to fight against his nation.
Would drop his gun and home he'd run, to fight against starvation.

When Abra'm said he'd free the slaves that furnished their supplies,
It opened Northern traitors' mouths and Southern traitors' eyes.
"The slaves," said they, "will run away if you thus rashly free them!"
But Abra'm 'guessed, perhaps, they'd best go home and overt-see them!'

Around our Union Wagon our loyal hosts stood fast,
And brought her through the struggle all safe and sound at last!
And of all the Generals high or low, that helped to save the nation.
There's none that struck a harder blow than GenQVdl Emancipation I

19
WHEN SHERMAN MARCHED DOWN TO THE SEA.

By CHAPLAIN LOZIER.

^ir— "Red, WMte and Blue."

All hail to the heroes of Sherman!

The "Bonnie Blue Boys" of the West,
The pride and the boast of the Nation,

The truest and bravest and best.
Twas these who in triumph bore o'er them,

That gallant old flag of the free.
And drove all opposers before them,

When Sherman marched down to the Sea.

They came from the bench and the anvil,

The forest, the field and the shop;
And when they took aim at a Rebel,

Then something was certain to drop.
And theirs was the nerve that could lead them

Wherever their chief might decree;
And naught could withstand or impede them,

When Sherman marched down to the Sea.

All hail to the heroes of freedom

Who fought 'neath the Stripes and the Stars,
Ye all are the greatest of victors.

Who won in the greatest of wars.
But none has a future before him,

More freighted with honors than he.
Who fought with our flag floating o'er him,

When Sherman marched down to the Sea.

20

HAIL TO THE LEGI0:N^S OF THE WEST.^

By CHAPLAIN LOZIER.

Hail to the Legions of the West!

A hundred crimson fields of glory,

For them proclaim that fadeless fame

That breathes in song and lives in story.

With iron will and dauntless breast,

They strike to save the land that bore them.

Hail to the Legions of the West,

Who bear that grand old banner o'er them!

Hands that have felled the forest oak
And torn the towering clifi"s assunder;
Hands that the virgin soil have broke.
And made the sledge and anvil thunder;
These are the hands by Heaven blest.
That drove our vanquished foes before them.
Hail to the Legions of the West,
Who bear our grand old banner o'er them!

Since Sumpter's stars and stripes went down,
How dark the Nation's night of sorrow;
But, thanks to God, the night is gone,
And brighter, purer dawns the morrow.
Back to the South, — no more oppressed, —
They bare our banners to restore them.
Hail to the Legions of the West,
Who bear our grand old banner o'er them!

*See page 13.

21

OUR PROTEST AGAINST TOADYISM TO TRAITORS.

By MAJOR J. H. LOZIER.

Go stand within those prison pens^

Where oar starved martyr's dust is lying.
Brave men, to whom the battle field

Had been a luxury in dying.
Go ask those wasted spectral forms,

Whence dread starvation drove their spirits;
Tho' voiceless, they with thundering tones,

Will tell the fate that that treason merits.

Go stand beside the nameless graves^

Strewn o'er a hundred fields of glory.
Speak to the heroes sleeping there

Coffined in garments stifi* and gory.
And, though their tongue give back no sound,

To plead for vengeance on this treason,
Their blood, still "crying from the ground,"

Speaks louder in the ear of reason.

Go ask the widovj o'er whose path

Hang shadows of untold sorrow;
What pinchmg poverty she hath!

How dark her bodings of the morrow!
Ask her, and fifty thousand more

Whose widow tears Jehovah measures,
Whose fondest hopes are crimsoned o'er,

And buried with their perished treasures.

Go ask the orphan^ for whose weal

A father's dying prayer was spoken.
Mid callous hearts — too proud to feel,

A wanderer, homeless and heartbroken.
A youth without the fond caress

That gilds the after years with gladness ;
An orphan's heart, whose loneliness.

Is eloquent with silent sadness.

22

Go ask that parent^ bending low,

That stricken sire, that mourning mother;
Theirs is a bitterness of woe,

Known to their hearts, their God, no other. '
They gave their boy, they only know

That somewhere his dead form is sleeping.
Ask them what justice claims, and lo!

You hear the answer in their weeping!

Go ask that maimed and shattered brave,

Thy spirit bowing low before him;
Part of his body fills the grave,

He gave tJiat for the land that bore him,
In every scar there Feems a tongue,

Whose plaintive pleadings none can number;
Crying, "How long, O Lord! how long

Shall justice blush and vengeance slumber ?"

Go ask that half a million men

Who drove that traitorous horde before them;
Who stormed their citidels, and then

Planted their grand old banner o'er them!
Ask them, and heed their answer well,

" Give treason less of exaltation P^
Or whispered mutterings may swell

To thunders that shall shake the nation.

Trust not this government to hands,

That yesterday had gladly slain thee!
But trust it to those loyal bands.

Whose lives were periled to sustain thee!
Care for those stricken ones^ who weep,

Not for ^^ fiends who caused their weeping I
Honor the graves where patriots sleep.

Who but for treason were not sleeping!

23

THE NAMELESS GRAVES WHERE OUR COMRADES

LIE.^

By CHAPLAIN LOZIER.

Hark! Hear ye not that plaintive tone,
That comes like the ocean's dying moan?
'Tis the ling'ring strain which the angels play,
O'er the graves where the nation's heroes lay.

Comrades we loved in life's fresh bloom,

Have been laid to rest in the warrior's tomb,

The silver cord has been rent in twain,

And the angels have gathered them " Home Again.''

Sad are our hearts, for their lights are fled,
And their treasures sleep with the nation's dead;
But Faith stoops low on its radiant wing,
And bids us Hark! while the angels sing!

From the field of strife where the patriot dies,
■ There's a shining pathway that mounts the skies;
And the tongue that shouts our hosts along,
May swell the note of the angels' song.

Let us love them still, for although we part,
There's a ray of hope for the saddest heart;
'Tis the hope that when life's last march is o'er,
We shall camp where comrades part no more.

Chokus — Sweet be their rest, calm their repose.
Safe from the reach of mortal woes;
For we know that death is a transient pain.
If beyond the River we meet again.

*See page 14.

24

WE'LL FIGHT IT OUT HERE ON THE OLD L^NION

LINE.*

[Written by Chaplain Lozier for the National Republican Convention that first
nominated General Grant for President, and sung- by him from the platform,
immediately after the General was nominated, assisted by George F. Root,
Chaplain C. C. McCabe and Major Frank Lumbard].

"Well rally again to the standard we bore

Over battle-fields crimson and gory;

Shouting, ' ' Hail to the Chief who in Freedom's fierce war,

Hath covered that Banner with glory!"

Chorus — Then rally again! Then rally again!

With the soldier and sailor and '''hummer;''^
And we'll fight it out here on the old Union line.
No odds if ''it takes us all summer!"

We'll rally again by the side of the men

Who breasted the conflict's fierce rattle;

And they'll find us still true who were true to them then,

And bade them "God speed " in the battle.

We'll rally again! and that Flag of the Free.
Shall stay where our heroes have placed it,
And ne'er shall they govern on land or on sea
Whose treason hath spurned and disgraced it.

We'll rally again and our motto shall be, —
— Whatever the nation that bore us; —
God bless that old Pjanner, the Flag of the Free,
And all who would live with it o'er us!

*Soc page 1:3.

25

BLUE COAT AND MISS DIXIE.

A rhymed interview, such as you and I have had with Secesh Women. Introduc-
ing some of their peculiar words and ways.

By the "FIGHTING CHAPLAIN,

1 — A jolly young Blue Coat was walking his " beat,"
When lo! a fair damsel came sailing down street.
The sight was so rare to the soldier boy's eye
That he came to a " front" till the lady passed by.

2 — The Star Spangled Banner hung out o'er the street,
And as she glanced upward she happened to see't,
Then stopped, her "Secesh" maledictions to utter,
And just to get 'round it, v^alked out in the gutter-

3 — Said she, "how I hate that detestable rag!
I swan, hit can't whip our Confederit flag;
We'll soon drive you Lincoln Dogs ofi" from our doors,
And then take your hanners to mop up our floors. ^^

4 — So struck was the "Yank" with her dazzlino^ charms
He felt half inclined to present her his arms,
When lo! she approached him with elegant grace
And gently attempted to spit in his face!

6 — It happened just then that he bowed very low,
A mark of respect to the lady, you know;
And so the mild missile her sweet lips had sped.
As good luck would have it, went over his head!

26

6 — Said he, ' ' gentle maiden, thy form so divine,
Reminds me so much of a sweetheart of mine;
She lives far away in the Land of the Free,
And she likes all the ' Blue Coats,' and specially 77Z6."

7 — Said she, "Northern women is hideous jades!
A passel of ignorant strappin milkmaids^
While weuns is Gulchered and larnt^ and refined, too,
And we toat all the money that weuns is mind to J"^

8 — We Southerners is the superior race,

And only was teaching you Yankees your place;
When you alls got mad and our country infested,
While we alls never had none of you alls milested. "

9 — "Fair lady, you say that our women are fools.

And yet they have always been teaching your schools!

If fools make best teachers, it strikes me as queer

That you should send North when you've so many here."'

10-" You impudent Yankee! You mudsill! You brute ye!
If I had a pistol, I'd take hit and shoot ye!
You've pestered me now till I'm likin' to faint,
But that would please you eiis too well, so I shaintP^

11-" Fair damsel, I'm going! Here comes the Relief,
But these are my views of your 'ladies ' in brief:
Your 'colors' are false, like piratical skippers!
In looks you're all 'Ducks, ' but in snuff you're all 'Dippers. ' '

27

BARBARA FRIETCHIE.— John G. Whittier.

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand,
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as a garden of the Lord,

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early Fall,
When Lee marched over the mountain wall,

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her four score years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town.

She took up the flag the men hauled down.

In her attic-window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.

"Halt! " — the dust-brown ranks stood fast;
"Fire! " — out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash.
It rent the banner with seam and gash.

Quick, as it fell from the broken staff.
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;

She leaned far out on the the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.

" Shoot, if you must, this old gray head.
But spare your country's flag," she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word.

"Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog! March on! " he said.

All day long through Frederick street
Sounded the tread of marching feet;

All day long that free flag tossed
Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night.

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,

And the rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her! and let a tear

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. .

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave,
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!

Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town.

THE DUTCH BARBARA FRITCHIE.

Id vas droo der streeds of Fridrieksdown,
Der red hot zun he vas shine him down.

Bast der zaloons all filt mit beer,
Der rebel vellers walkt on deir ear.

All day droo Fridrieksdown zo fast,
Horses, und guns, und zogers bast.

29

Der rebel flag ! he shone him oud so bridt
As if, by Jinks, he got some ridt !

Vere vas dat Onion Flag? Der zun
He shone him down not on a von !

Up jumped dot olt Miss Fritchie den,
Zo olt by nine score years und ten.

She grabbed up der flag der rebels haul down
Und fasen it quick py dot nidt-gown.

Den she sat py der vinder, ver all could see,
Der vas von vat lofe dot flag so free!

Pertty soon cum riden up Stonewall Jack,
Sitten ]Dy der middle of his horse's back.

Under him brow he squint him eyes :
Dot Flag! Dot make him great surprise!

"Halt!" Eveiy veller make him sdill;
"Fire!" Vas echoed from hill to hill.

I'd bursted der strings from dot nidt-gown,
But Barbara Fritchie she was arount!

She grabbed up der flag again so quick
Und oud of her vinder her arms did sdick

"Obuse ef you would dis olt bait head,
But leave alone dot flag," she said.

Zo soon zo quick as Jack could do
He holler hiiu out mit his face so blue;

"Halt! Don'd you fire anunder gun!
You quits, pyjeminy. efery von!"

"Who bull a hair oud of dot bait head,
Dies awful quick! Go aheat!" he said.

Und all dot day, und all dot nidt,
Till efery rebel vas oud of sight,

Und leaf behindt him dot Fridricksdown,
Dot flag! He vas stickin py dot nidt-gown!

Dame Barbara Fritchie's vork is done,
She vas vone vooman as don'd would run!

Bully for her! Und drop a tear

For dot olt vooman mitoud some fear.

I vould drink her heldt mit zwi glass beer,
If I don'd vas afraid I can't got some here.

30

"Come here, you inquisitive rascal,"

THE FRONTIEK VETERAN TO HIS GRANDSON.

[As recited by Jurtge F. P, Cochrane, of Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, late Lieu-
tenant on Generals Negley and Tom Woods' Staffs, Army of the Cumberland, to
whom the oublisher is indebted for the poem].

BY CAPT. JACK CRAWFORD.
I.

Hold on! hold on! My goodness, you take my breath, my son,
A firin' questions at me like shot from a Gatlin' gun.
Why do I wear this eagle, an' flag, an' brazen star?
An' why do my old eyes glisten when somebody mentions warV
An' why do I call men comrades? and why do my eyes grow bright,
When you hear me tell your grandma, "I'm going to Post to-night?"
Come here, you inquisitive rascal! and sit on your grandpa's knee,
An' I'll try an' answer the broadsides you've been firin' at me.

II.

Away back in the sixties, an' long before you were bom,

The news came flashin' to us one bright an' sunny morn,

That some of our southern neighbors, a thinkin', no doubt, 'twas right,

Had trained their guns on our banner, an' opened a nasty fight.

The great big guns war' a boomin', an' the shot flyin' thick an' fast,

An' troops all over the southland war' rapidly bein' massed.

When a ttirill went through the Nation, a fear that our glorious land

Might be split an' divided an' ruined by a Southern traitor band.

31

III.

Whew! but warn't there excitement, an' didn't the boys' eyes flash,

An' didn't we curse them rebels fur bein' so foolish an' rash?

And didn't we raise the neighbors with loud an' continued cheers,

When Old Abe sent out a docyment a callin' for volunteers! .

An' didn't we rush to the school house, where the people was axt to

meet?
An' didn't we flock to the colors, when the drums began to beat?
An' didn't the people cheer us when we got aboard the cars,
With the flag a wavin' o'er us, an' went away to the wars?

IV.

I'll never forgit your grandma, as she stood outside o' the train,
Her face as white as a snowdrift, her tears a fallin' like rain —
She stood there quiet an' deathlike, amid all the rush an' noise-
Fur the war was a takin' from her, her husband and three brave boys,
Bill, Charley an' little Tommy — just turned eighteen, but as true
An' gallant a little soldier as ever wore the blue —
It seemed almost like murder for to tear her poor heart so,
But your grandpa couldn't stay, baby, and the boys war' determined
to go.

V.

The evenin' afore we started, she called the boys to her side.
An' told 'em as how they war' alwrys their mother' joy an' pride,
An' though her soul was in torture, an' her poor heart bleedin' an'

sore,
An' though she needed her darlin's, their country needed them more,
An' she told them to be as lovin' and kind as they were at home,
An' told 'em to do their duty, where'er their feet might roam,
An' if (an' the tears nigh choked her) they fell in front o' the foe.
She'd go to her blessed Saviour an' ax Him to lighten the blow.

VI.

Bill lays an' awaits the summons 'neath Spottsyvania's sod,

An' on the field of Antietam Charlie's spirit went back to G-od,

An' Tommy, our baby Tommy, we buried one starlight night.

Along with his fallen comrades, just after the Wilderness fight—

The lightnin' struck our family tree, an' stripped it of every limb,

A leavin' only this bare old trunk a standin' alone an' grim!

My boy, that's why your grandma, when you kneel to the God you

love.
Makes you ax Him to watch your uncles, an' make 'em happy above.

32

vn.

That's why you sometimes see her with tear drops in her eyes—
That's why you sometimes catch her a tryin' to hide her sighs—
That's why at our great reunions she looks so solemn an' sad —
That's why her heart seems a breakin' when the boys seem jolly an^

glftd;
That's why you sometimes find her in the bedroom overhead,
Down on her knees a prayin', with their pictures on the bed ;
That's why the old-time brightness will light up her face no more
Till she meets her hero warriors in the camp on the other shore.

VIII.

Well! when the great war was over, back came the veterans true,

With not one star amissin' from that azure field of blue ;

An' the boys, who in the battle had stood the fiery test,

Formed Posts of the great Grand Army in the north, south, east and

west.
Fraternity, Charity, Loyalty, is the motto 'neath which they train—
Their object to care for the helpless, an' banish sorrow an' pain
From the homes o' the widows an' orphans o' the boys who have gone

before
To answer their names at roll call, in that Great Grand Army Corps.

IX.

An' that's why we wear these badges,— the eagle an' flag an' star,
Worn only by veteran heroes who fought in that bloody war.
An' that's why my ol' eyes glisten when talkin' about the fray,
An' that's why these gray old veterans keep clingin' together to-day.
An' that's why I tell your grandma, "I'm goin' to Post to-night;"
For there's where I meet the ol' boys who stood with me in the fight.
An', my child, that's why I've taught you to love an' revere the men
Who come here a wearin' badges, to fight those battles again.

For they are the gallant heroes, who stood 'mid the shot an' shell.
An' follered the flyin' colors right into the mouth of— well!
They are the men whose valor saved the land from disgrace an shame
An' lifted her back in triumph to her perch on the dome of fame ;
An' as long as you live, my darlin', till your lips in death are mute,
When you see that badge on a bosom, take off your hat an' salule ;
An' if any ol' vet should halt you, an' question you why you do.
Just tell him you've got a right to, for your granddad's a comrade tool

33

GLOKY ! GLORY ! HALLELUJAH !

John Brown's body lies a mould'ring in the grave,
John Brown's body lies a mould'ring in the grave,
John Brown's body lies a mould'ring in the grave.
His soul is marcliing on.

Chorus.— Glory, glory, hallelujah;
Glory, glory, hallelujah;
Glory, glory, hallelujah;

His soul is marching on.

The stars of heaven are looking kindly down,
The stars of heaven are looking kindly down,
The stars of heaven are looking kindly down,

On the grave of old John Brown. — Chorus.

He's gone to be a soldier in the array of the Lord, ■
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord,
He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord,
His soul is marching on.— Chorus,

John Brown's knapsaek is strapped upon his back,
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
His soul is marching on. — Chorus.

His pet lambs will meet him on the way,
His pet lambs wiil meet him on the way,
His pet lambs will meet him on the way,

And they'll go marching on. — Chorus.

"We'll hang Jeff Davis to a sour apple tree,
We'll hang Jeff" Davis to a sour apple tree,
Old Andy didn't do it, but still it ought to be,
As we go marching on. — Chorus.

SHERIDAN'S RIDE,— Thomas Buchanan Read.

Up from the South at break of day,

Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay.

The affrighted air with a shudder bore,

Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door.

The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar,

Telling the battle was on once more,

And Sheridan twenty miles away.

And wider still those billows of war

Thundered along the horizon's bar;

And louder yet into Winchester rolled

The roar of that red sea uncontrolled,

Making the blood of the listener cold.

As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray,

And Sheridan twenty miles away.

34

But there is a road from Winchester town,

A good, broad highway leading down;

And there through the flush of the morning light,

A steed as black as the steeds of night,

Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight.

As if he knew the terrible need,

He stretched away with his utmost speed;

Hills rose and fell; but his heart was gay,

With Siieridan fifteen miles away.

Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering South,
The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth;
Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster,
Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster.
The heart of the steed and the heart of the master
Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls,
Imi3atient to be where the battle-field calls;
Ever^'- nerve of the charger was strained to full play,
With Sheridan only ten miles away.

Under his spurning feet, the road

Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed,

And the landscape sped away behind

Like an ocean flying before the wind,

And the steed, like bark fed vvith furnace ire,

Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire.

But h>! he is nearing his heart's desire;

He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray,

With Sheridan only five miles away.

The first that the General saw were the groups

Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops;

What was done,— what to do,— a glauce told him both, .

And striking his spurs, with a terrible oath,

He dashed down the line, 'mid a storm of huzzas,

And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because

The sight of the master compelled it to pause.

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray;

By the flash of his e\^e, and his red nostril's play.

He seemed to the whole great army to say,

" I have brought you Sheridan all the way.

From Winchester down, to save the day."

Hurrah, hurrah for Sheridan !
Hurrah, hurrah for horse and man !
And when their statues are placed on high.
Under the dome of the Union sky, —
The American soldiers' Temple of Fame,

35

There with the glorious General's name
Be it said in letters b:jth bold and bright
" Here is tlie steed that saved the day
B}' carrying Sheridan into the fight,
From Winchester, — twenty miles awav !"

SHAKE SHXYDER'S EIDE.
Dot vas een der repellion, away down sout
Uud der pattle von Vinchester vos youst broke out,
'Tvas a leedle before daylighd, und dere on der grount,
Shls:attered about here und dere, vas der troops shleeping sount
Und der roosders vas growing een der henkoops arount,
Ven all ov a suddenly somedings vas der matter.
Aboud tain tousand cannons all gommenced to klatter,
Und dot shkared all d^r boys, und dey gommenced to shkatter.

Shake Shnyder vas dere; he vas a raw regruit,

Und so gwick vhen he heard der cannon shoot

He dought it vas better vor heem to.shkoot.

So an olt gray hoss stood near by een der vagon track,

Und Shake bicked ub a shtick und hees olt knap-sack,

Und een youst one shoomp he vas on hees back,

Und he shtruck dot old horse a vearful krack,

Und he yelled mit all hees might, "You git,"

Und avay he vent dovv^n der road lickerty shplit.

Py Jinks! right avay der olt hoss shtruck hees gait,

Mit his head und his tail both shticken out sdraight;

Bat dot vasnt all, now hold on, you youst vait!

'Tvas youst five o'clock ven he shdarted dot day,

Und in tain minutes by der vatch Shake vas five milse avay.

Der road vas ruflfund covered mit shtone,

But der olt gray hoss kept right on goin.

Ov course, vonce een a vhile he would let out a groan,

Vor dots drue, he vas notting but skin und bone.

But avay he vent, mitout bridle or saddle,

Und venefer he heard der sound ov der battle,

He vould git up and git, und hees olt hoofs vould rattle,

Vile Shake hung to hees back und made heem shkedaddle,

Und at dwenty minutes past five, by der tick ov der vatch,

Shake was tain milse avay, by Shiminy Krotch!

Py Grashus! dot vos a vearful ride;

But still Shake didnt vas satisfied,

He vanted to git furder avay vrom dot fighd.

So avay he vent down der roat, flying pell-mell,

Und he hurryed up der hoss, vor he knowed very veil

Vrom der vay dot der rebels vas firing der shell,

Ov he didn't shkedaddle he'd git shot, sure as veil,

36

You know how 'tvas yourseluf, een a case like dot,
Ven der rebels vas chasin you pooty blamed hot,

Und you had to run like a sonovagun. By ScotU

Oxpectiu aifry minute to git your back full of shot.

Veil, dot vas der case mlt Shake; 'tvas hees only salwation:

So he made dot hoss go like all creation.

Und at half-past five by der sun dot day,
Shake Shyder vas fifdeen milse avay.

Und shdill on dey vent, raisin der dust,

Und aifry time dot a shell vood busht

'Tvas hard to tell vitch vas shkared der vurst.

Und Shake vas afraid on anudder account,

For he veighed two hunnerd und forty pount,

Und der vay der olt hoss got over der ^rount,

He dought aifry minute 'twould come to pass

Dot der olt hoss vould shtop und let heem go to grass. •

But he vas meesdaken; avay dey vent down der road,

As if der tyful vas afder dem boad.

Und at twenty minutes ov six, youst oxactly to a tick,

Shake vas dwenty milse avay — vasnt dot pooty gwick?

Py Shemeny! dot olt hoss vas a buster to travel,

Und dot morning Shake made der olt vellar shkratch gravel;

Und Shnyder kept time ven der bosses feet come up,

Und he'd say, keep-it-up, keep-it-up, keep-it-up.

Und likewise dat hoss had lots of backbone —

You could tell dot vas so by der vay Shake vould groan.

But he vas bound to hang on ov it shplit heem in two.

So he hung like dem "kraybacks" — veil, vot else could he do?

Till at last der olt hoss begun to look pale,

Und der sweat run in shtreams off der end of hees tail.

So Shake dought by dese time it must be six, ainyhow,
Und he says to himself, I vas safe enough now.
So he shtopped aud turned round, and what do you shpose?
He give der rebels der pass-word from der end of hees nose.'
Und den he lafFed at der rebels, vot vas left in de rear,
Vor he vas more as dwenty-five miles avay from dere!

So den hurrah for Shake Snyder, und dree cheers vor dot hosa
Vor dots no use dalkin, dot olt gray vas boss.

Talk bout Sheridan's nag— vy, between you und me,
Der olt gray vould beat heem five dimes out ov dree.

So den let us cheer heem dhree times good und lout;

Already, now, Hu vy, vats der matter mit your mout?

Oh, you can aiferyvone laflT: dots all very veil.

But of you vas e'en Shnyder's place, how you vould yell.

37

Vy, here's Mr. Schmidt on der platform to-night; .
He vas a goot soldier ov course, dots all right;
But he got schkart at a rebel een dot wery same fight,
Und he got up und shkedaddled mid all of hees might,
Und een less' in tain minutes he vas glear out of sight!

Veil, ven such men got schkart, you oxpect Shake to keep cool?
Ov you do, you must dink he's a blasted olt fool.

Ov course, Shake got schkart, und run avay from dot strife;
But he couldn't do ainy different to safe hees life.

Besides, it vas safer — und veil did he know,
A live Dutchman vas better den a dead hero.

NO FIGHTIN' IN HEAVEN, BOYS.

ORT HOWEIiL, OF PERRY, IOWA, IN THE GRAND ARMY ADVOCATE

" You soldiers was havin' a meetin' '' they said,
A Grand Army camp-fire, or somethin' or other;

And I thought as how I'd just come in the stead
Of Jimmy — you knowed 'im ? Well, boys, I'm his mother.

Your ranks are a thinnin' an' every roll-call,

Death answers for some, the missing you know, —

They fight in the battle of life an' they fall.
Worn out an' a bleedin', they give up an' go

My heart was a soljei — it answered the call

With Jimmy, — got wounded with him, an' it fell

Beside him in battle — then went through all;
His starvin' an' sufFerin' at that prison hell.

He wrote lots of letters, a tellin' so cheerful

Of comrades, an' camp, an' the fun that they had;

Ho spoke of the sunshine, but was very keerful
To leave out the shadder, an' things that was sad.

He said you had plenty to eat an' to wear, —
Had two kinds of coffee, the ' plain black ' an' ' riled,'

An' two kinds of meat on the bill of fare.
One's ' hog meat ' an' t'other is 'hog meat spiledJ

He writ me that sometimes your colors got mixed,
He must have been jokin', (he had a great knack

Of talkin' in fun,) but he said coats M^as fixed
•With blue all in front, but they all had gray -backs.

He said there was millions in one grand division

All under command of— General Hardtack;
And detailed to work on old army provision.

Such as stood rather long in the old haversack.

He said how at Petersburg blue coats and gray,

Would visit au' trade when the tightin' would slack,

You swapped theni coffee for tobacker, and they
Swapped you their fresh corncake for wormy hardtack.

Do you know what it is boys to wait an' to wait,
With hope an' dispair both ashakin' your soul?

I waited two years, boy.-', to find out his fate
After seein' his name on the prisoners roll.

Oh, the torturin' pain of that waitin, an' waitin',
Of hopin', disparin'; disparin' an' hopin' —

The gates of my heaven kept creakin' an' gratin'
With openin' an' closin', an' closin' an' openin'.

An' wnen he came home, boys, my old heart was sadder
To see him again, than when it was smote

With his partin' good-by. Oh, God! what a shadder!
Just his bones, an' his soul, and an' old army coat!

Tears would not stay back, boys; I couldn't help cryin';

I thought of the times that I'd rocked 'im to sleep
In my arms — a wee babe — a man now, an' d3an' —

Yes, dyin' by inches, boys; wouldn't you weep?

He was patient an' cheerful, an' still kept a try in!

To hide his condition, (my old eyes was dim),
He told funny stories, was careful of sighin',

But I heard Death whisperin', " Jirn, Come, JimJ^

When God brought the springtime an' flowers of May,
An' the sunshine peeped into each half open rose,

He said, 'Good bye. Mother,' an' went far away,
Leavin me, an' a grave, an' his dear soljer close.

Who'll answer that record the death angels took
Of slaughter with saber, with shot, an' with shell ?

Who'll answer for blood-stains on God's record book?
An' the sorrow in heaven, an' laughin' in hell?

When Judgment day brings us the last Grand Review^

Who'll answer to God for this horrible crime ?
No tightin' in heaven, that's one thing that's true !

39

SOKG OF A THOUSAND YEARS.

BY HENRY C. WORK.

Lift lip your eyes, desponding freemen!

Fling to the winds your needless fears!
He who unfurPd your beauteous banner,

Says it shall wave a thousand years!

CHORUS.

"A thousand years!" my own Columbia!

'Tis the glad day so long foretold!
'Tis the glad morn whose early twilight

Washington saw in times of old.

What if the clouds, one little moment,
Hide the blue sky where morn appears—

When the bright sun, that tints them crimson.
Rises to shine a thousand years! — Chorus.

Tell the great world these blessed tidings!

Yes, and be sure the bondman hears;
Tell the oppressed of ev'ry nation.

Jubilee lasts a thousand years!— Chorus.

Envious foes, beyond the ocean!

Little we heed your threat 'ning sneers;
Little will they— our children's children—

When you are gone a thousand years. — Chorus.

Rebels at home! go hide your faces —

Weep for your crimes with bitter tears;
You could not bind the blessed daylight.

Though you should strive a thousand years!— Chorus.

Back to your dens, ye secret traitors!

Down to your own degraded spheres!
Ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine

Shortens your lives a thousand years.— Chorus.

Haste thee along, thou glorious jSToonday! •

Oh, for the eyes of ancient seers!
Oh, for the faith of .Him who reckons

Each of His days a thousand years!— Chorus.

40

THE SOLDIER TRAMP.

Scene— A City Police Court.
"Yer honor, I pleads guilty; I'm a bummer;

I don't deny the cop here found me drunk;
I don't deny that through the whole, long simimer.

The sun warmed earth has been my only bunk.
I hain't been able fur to earn a livin';

A man with one leg planted in the tomb
Can't git a job — an' I've a strong misgivin'

'Bout bein' cooped up in a Soldiers' Home.
" 'Whar did I lose my leg?' At Spottsylvania—

Perhaps you've read about the bloody fight-
But then I guess the story won't restrain you

Prom doin' what the law sets down as right.
I'm not a vag through choice, but through misfortune,

An' as fur drink — well, all men have there faults;
An', judge, I guess I've had my lawful portion

O' rough experiences in prison vaults.
*'i served as a private in the Tenth New Jersey,

An' all the boys'll say I done what's right;
Thar ain't a man kin say that Abram Bursey

War ever found a-shirkin' in a fight.
Right in the hell-born, frightful roar o' battle,

Whar shot an' shell shrieked thro' the darksome wood.
And where the minnie balls like hail did rattle.

You'd always find me doin' the best I could.

"We had a brave oP feller for a Colonel—

We called him Sweety, but his name was Sweet-
Why, judge; I swar it, by the Great Eternal!

That brave oP cuss 'd rather fight than eat.
An' you could alius bet your bottom dollar

In battle, Sweety 'd never hunt a tree;
He'd alius push into the front an' holler:

'Brace up, my gallant boys, an' follow me!'

"Well, jest afore the Spottsylvania battle,

OP Sweety cum to me an' says, says he:
'I tell you Abe, 'taint many things '11 rattle

A tough, old, weather-beaten cuss like me;
But in my very soul I've got a feelin'

That I'm goin' to get a dose to-day,
An' 'taint no use fur me to be concealin'

The skittish thoughts tliat in my bosom play.

"Fur many'years you've l)een my neighbor, Bursey,
An' I hev alius found you squar and true —

Back in our little town in old New Jersey
No one lias got a better name than you.

41

An' now I want yer promise, squar'ly given,
That if our cause to-day demands my life.

An' you yourself are left among the livin',
You'll take me back an' lay me by my wife." ..

"Well, judge, that day, amidst the most infernal

An' desp'rate bloody fight I ever seed,
'Way up in front I saw the brave ol' Colonel

Throw up his hands and tumble off his steed.
In half a minute I was bending o'er him,

An' seein' that he wasn't killed outright,
I loaded him up on my back an' bore him

Some little distance back out o' the fight.

"The blood from out a ghastly wound was flowin',

An' so I snatched the shirt from off my back.
For I could see the brave ol' cuss war goin'

To die, unless I held the red tide back.
An' purty soon I seed he was revivin',

An' heard him whisper: 'Abe, you've saved my life.
Your ol' wool shirt, along with your connivin',

Has kept me from that grave beside my wife.'

"Well, judge, while I stood thar beside him, schemin'

On how to get him in a doctor's care,
A ten-pound shell, toward us come a screamin'

Just like a ravin' demon in the air.
An' w'en it passed, I found myself a lyin'

Across ol' Sweety's body, an' I see
That 'tarnal shell, that by us went a flyin'

Had tuk my leg along fur company.

"Well, judge, that's all; 'cept when the war was over,

I found myself a cripple, an' since then
I've been a sort o' shiftless, worthless rover,

But jest as honest as the most o' men.
I never stole a dime from livin' mortal,

Kor ever harmed a woman, child or man—
I've simply been a bum, and hope the court'll

Be jest as easy on me as it can.

Then spake the judge: "Such helpless, worthless creatures

Should never be allowed to bum and beg;
Your case, 'tis true, has some redeeming features,

For in your country's cause you lost a leg.
And yet I feel the world needs an example

To check the tendency of men to roam;
The sentence is. That all your life— your camp'll

Be in the best room in my humble home."

4:^

The soldier stared! Dumb! 'Silent as a statue!

Then, in a voice of trembling pathos, said:
''Judge, turn your head, and give me one look at you-

That voice is Jike an echo from the dead."
Then forward limped he, grimy hand extended.

While tears adown his sun-brown cheeks did roll,
And said, with slang and pathos strangely blended:

"Why, Colonel Sweety, durn your brave ol' soul."
-Dan Santiago Caroline.

THE CRUTCH IX TPIE CORNER.

[Written just after the war by John McTntosh— "Old Vermont"].

''Why, Billy, your room is as cold as the hut

We had by the swamp and river,
Where we lost our Major, and Tim, you know,

And sixty more with the fever."
"Well, Tom, old fellow, it's hard enough,

But the best at times knock under;
There's ne'er a stick of wood in the house

But that crutch in the corner yonder!

"Sorry I listed? Don't ask me that, Tom;

If the flag was again in danger,
I'd aim the gun with an aching stump

At the foe, were he brother or stranger.
But, I say, ought a wound from a shot or shell,

Or a pistol bullet, by thunder!
Forever doom a poor fellow to want.

With that crutch in the corner yonder?

"That crutch, old comrade, ought ever to be

A draft at sight on the Nation,
Eor honor, respect, and a friendly hand.

For clothing, and quarters, and rations!
My wife — she begs at the Nugget House,

Where the bigbugs live in splendor,
And brag o'er the wine, of the fights that brought

Such as that in the corner yonder!

"And Charlie— he goes to some place up town

Some ticket-for-soup arrangement;
All well enough for a hungry boy,

But, Tom, its effect is estrangement;
I\l sooner liave kicked the bucket twice o'er,

By a shell or a round ten-pounder.
Than live sucli a life as I'm doing now,

With tliat crutcli in tlie corner yonder.

43

"There's ne'er a thing left to pawn or to sell,

And the winter has closed on labor;
This medal is all that is left me now,

With my pistols and trusty saber;
And those, by the sunlight above us, Tom,

Xo power from my trust shall sunder.
Save the One that releases me at last

From that crutch in the corner yonder.

"I can raise this arm that is left to me

To the blessed heaven above us,
And swear by the throne of the Pather there,

And the angels all, who love us,
That the hand I lost and the hand I have

Were never yet stained by plunder.
And, for love of the dear old flag, I now

Use that crutch in the corner yonder.

"Do I ask too much when I say we boys

Who fought for the Nation's glory,
Xow that the danger is past and gone.

In comfort should tell our story?
How would we have fought when the mad shells screamed

And shivered our ranks, I wonder.
Had we known our lot would have been to beg,

With that crutch in the corner yonder?

"There's little we hear of nowadays

But pardon and reconstruction.
While the soldier who fought and bled for both

Is left to his own destruction.
'Twould be well, I think, in these nipping times,

For those Congress fellows to ponder,
And think of us boys who use such things

As that crutch in the corner yonder."

THE STAR SPx\JSrGLED BA:N':N'ER.

BY FRANCIS H. KEY.

Oh say can you see by the dawn's early light.
What so proudly we haiPd at the twilight's last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars thro' the perilous fight.
O'er the ramparts we watch'd were so gallantly streaming!

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air.
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.

CHORUS.

Oh say, does the star spangled banner yet wave.

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

44

On the shore dimly seen thro' the mist of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,

What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?

Now it catches the gleam of the morning-s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream.

CHORUS.

. 'Tis the Star Spangled Banner! O long may it wave.
O'er the land, etc., etc.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore.
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,

A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.

'No refuge could save the hirelings and slave.
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave.

CHORUS.

. And the Star Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave.
O'er the land, etc., etc.

Oh thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation;

Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserv'd us a nation,

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just.
And this be our motto, "In God is our trust."

CHORUS.

And the Star Spangled Banner forever shall wave,
O'er the land, etc., etc.

THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL.

KEY OF A.

He lay upon his dying bed,

His eye was growing dim,
When with a feeble voice he called

His weeping son to him:
"Weep not, my boy," the veteran said,

•'I bow to Heaven's high will,
But quickly from yon antlers bring ■>

The sword of Bunker Hill." i -t^^P^^T.

The sword was brought, the soldier's eye

Lit with a sudden flame;
And as he grasp'd the ancient blade,

He murmuf'd Warren's name;

45

Then said, "My boy, I leave you gold,

But what is richer still,
I leave j^ou, mark nie, mark me now,

The sword of Bunker Hill."

Repeat.

" 'Twas on that dread, imm.ortal day,

I dared the Briton's band,
A captain raised this blade on me,

I tore it from his hand;
And while tlie glorious battle raged,

It lightened Freedom's will.
For, boy, the God of Freedom bless'd -|

The sword of Bunker Hill." | I^^peat.

*0h! keep the sword," — his accents broke,

A smile and he v/as dead;
But his wrinkled hand still grasp'd the blade,

Upon that dying bed.
The son remains, the sword remains,

Its glory growing still,
And sixty millions bless'd the sire ->

And sword of Bunker Hill. / ^^^^^t.

COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN.

OR RED, WHITE AND BLUE— KEY OF G.

O Columbia! the gem of the ocean.

The home of the brave and the free,
The shrine of each patriot's devotion,

A World offers homage to thee.
The mandates make heroes assemble,

When Liberty's form stands in view;
Thy banners make tyranny tremble,

When borne by the red, white and blue.

Chorus— When borne by the red, white and blue.

When borne bj^ the red, white and blue,
Thy banners make tyranny tremble.
When borne by the red, white and blue.

When war waged its wide desolation,

And threatened the land to deform,
The ark then of freedom's foundation,—

Columbia— rode safe through the storm;
With her garlands of vict'ry around her.

When so proudly she bore her brave crew.
With her flag proudly floati ag before her,

The boast of the red, white and blue.— Chorus.

46

That banner, that banner, bring hither,

Tho' rebels and traitors look grim;
May the wreaths it has won never wither,

Nor the stars of its glory grow dim!
May the service united ne'er sever,

But they to their colors prove true!
The Arniv and Navj forever,

Three cheers for the red, white and blue. — Chokus.

THE LOYAL "DIXIE.'

[Written in 1865, to be sung in lieu of the Rebel "Dixie" which, just at that
time, was supposed to be pretty badly "played"].

BY "JARGO NETHLIZ."

When Jeff 'S rebellion first begun
The rebels thought 'twould just be "fun"
And "play" to slay our loyal Union band.
And just to cheer their boys along
They used to sing that little song
Called "Away, away, away in "Dixie's Land."
<'h rus— Eut now the people do demand
"Eopes!" "Eopes!"
To hang the leaders of this band
And make all traitors understand
That they must pay ^^the penalty of treason.^''

At first we tried with all our might
To compromise, and save a fight,
But they said "Nay, your offers we decline,"
So wlien no other course would save us.
We gave them a thrashing, and caught Jeff Davis
Hid away, away, beneath a "crinoZme."
I'HCRI'S — And now the people do demand, &c.

And now the soldiers want to know
Will Uncle Sam let traitors go
Away, away, unpunished for this crime?
If ice were "bossing" these affairs
We'd counsel them to say their prayers
Bight away, right away, or they might be short of time.
Uhorus— For now'tlie people, &c.

47

THE ARMY BEAN, No, 1.

Air.— "Sweet By and Bj-."

There's a spot that the soldiers all love,

The mess-tent is the place that we mean;
And the dish that we like to see there,

Is the old-fashioned, v/hite Army bean.
Chorus — 'Tis the bean that we mean,

And we'll eat as we ne'r ate before;
The Army bean, nice and clean;
We will stick to our beans evermore.
Now the bean in its primitive state,

Is a plant we have all often met;
And when cooked in the old army style,

It has charms we can never forget. — Chorus.
The German is fond of saur kraut,
The potato is loved by the Mick;
But the soldiers have lon^c since found out.

That thro' life to our beans we should stick. — CHORUS.
Refrain— Air— 'Tell Aunt Rhoda,"
Beans for breakfast.
Beans for dinnf r,
Beans for supper,
Beans! Beans!! Beans!!!

ODES OF THE G. A. R

AULD LANG SYNE.

BY ROBERT BURNS.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?

48

We twa hae run aboiir the braes

And pii'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd many a weary foot

Sin' auld lang syne.

We too hae paddled i' the burn

Frae morning sun till dine:
But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd

Sin' auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty friend,

And gie 's a hand o' thine;
And we'll tak' a right gude willie waught

For auld lang syne.

And surely you'll be your pint stoup,

And surely I'll be mine;
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet

For auld laug syne.

CHARITY.

Air — Nettleton — ''Come Thou Fount.'

Meek and lowly, pure and holy,

Chief among the ''blessed three,"
Turning sadness into gladness,

Heaven-born art thou, Charily!
Pity dwelleth in thy bosom,

Kindness reigneth o'er thy heart,
Gentle thoughts alone can sway thee,

Judgment hath in thee no part.

Meek and lowly, pure and holy,

Chief among the "blessed three,"
Turning sadness into gladness,

Heaven-born art thou. Charity!
Hoping ever, failing never,

Though deceived, believing still;
Long abiding, all confiding

To thy heavenly Father's will.

Never weary of well-doing,

Never fearful of the end;
* Claiming all mankind as brothers,

Thou dost all alike befriend.
Meek and lowly, jiure and holy,

Chief among the "blessed three,'
Turning sadness into gladness,

Heaven-born art thou. Charity! •

49

AMERICA.

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing!
Land where my fathers died.
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From ev'ry mountain-side

Let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,

Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills.
Thy woods and templed hills:
My heart with rapture thrills,

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues aw^ake,
Let all that breathe partake,
Let rocks their silence break.

The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God! to thee,
Author of liberty,

To thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by thy might,

Great God, our King!

THE G. A. R. AND W. R. C/'RELIEF SONG."

THE COTTAGE OF THE DEAR ONES LEFT AT HOME.*

[Dedicated to the memory of Gov. O. P. Morton, "War Governor" of Indiana, by
Major J. H. Lozier, of his Official Staff.]

I have oft been standing where our boys were marching

Along theh hot and dusty road;
While, with thirst and with fever their pale lips were parching,

And their proud forms trembled "neath their load.
But though they were feeble and foot sore and weary,

They still marched steadily along;
And their spirits were light and their voices were merry,

As they marched to the music of their song.
*See pa^e U,

50

CHORUS.

O, while the loved ones weep for those who lowly sleep

Within the soldiers' honored tomb,
Let want fall lightly, and the fire burn brightly,

In the cottage of the dear ones left at home.

I have stood on the field where the red tide of battle,

Was wildly dashing to and fro;
And the death-dealing cannon and fierce muskets' rattle

Was laying many heroes low.
But the soldier stood firm to the duty before him,

Nor heeded the cannon's deadly boom;
But he thought of the Being who still hovered o'er him,

And the cottage of the dear ones left at home.

I have stood by the cot where the soldier was lying,

And oft times closed his dying eyes;
And it is not the grave, nor the terror of dying.

That troubles the soldier when he dies.
But he fears that the world, in its chase after pleasures,^

Will not stop to look upon life's gloom;
And that none but the Master will care for his treasures

In the cottage of the dear ones left at home.

ODES OF THE W. R. C,

OPENING ODE.

Air — "Keller's American Hymn."

Bright o'er our country the sunshine of Peace
Smiles wlicro (he war-cloud long darkened the air —

ol

Long may it smile o'er a prosperous land —
While we assemble our brothers to aid,
And in their labors of charity share!
Repeat — Long may it smile, etc.

Cold now are firesides, with love once aglow,
Cold are brave hearts that for us nobly fought!

Loved ones they left, 'tis our task now to cheer,

Help we the helpless in sorrow who bow,
Comfort we bring where was misery brought!

Repeat — Loved ones they left, etc.

Land that we love best, dear land of our birth!

Land twice redeemed by the blood of the brave,
God in his wisdom protect thee alway!
Onward thy progress in honor and worth,

Aye, may thy starry flag over thee wave.

Repeat — God in his wisdom, etc.

CHAPLAIivT LOZIER'S VERSION OF THE FOREGOHSTG
OPENING ODE OF THE W. R. C*

Air.— "What a Friend we have in Jesus.

Bright above our prosp'rous Nation,

Shines the glorious Sun of Peace,
Stretching forth its "Bow of Promise,"—

— Pledge that Treason's storm shall cease!
May its smile abide forever.

Where War clouded once the air,—
—While we meet to aid our Brothers,

And their " Works of Love'''' to share.

Cold are firesides now,— once glowing ; .

Cold are hearts that nobly fought,
Come we now, our help bestowing,

Where these Missing ones are not.
Help we helpless ones in sorrow,

Cheer we hearts o'erwhelmed with care,—
—While we meet to aid our Brothers,

And their " Works of Love'^ to share.

Native Land! God speed thee onward!

Twice redeemed by Patriots' blood ;
All our loyal hearts commend thee

To the keeping care of God.
May our Starry Banner ever

Hallow, with its folds, the air, —
— While we meet to aid our Brothers,

And their '' Works of Love^^ to share.

*NoTE.— "Keller's American Hymn" l^eing- diffloult to sing- without the music
in hand, at the request of leading- officers of the W. R. C, Chaplain Lozier has
paraphrased the words of the old ode, adapting them to a familiar tune which all
can readily sing.

52

INITIATION ODE.

Air — Webb — "From Greenland's Icy Mountains,"

With warm and kindly greeting,

We gladly welcome you;
Each heart responsive beating,

In friendship tried and true.
A high and noble purpose,

Moves every heart and hand;
We work for those whose valor,

From treason saved our land.

For those, alas! whose numbers

Grow less each passing year;
For those who fought to save us

The homes we hold so dear.
We work for those brave martyrs,

The army of the slain;
Whose nameless graves are scattered

O'er many a Southern plain.

For widowed ones and orphans,

Left to our loving care;
Our hands will gladly labor,

Our liearts their sorrows share.
Then once more kindly greeting,

And welcome we extend;
May each and all prove worthy

To be the soldiers' friend.

ODES OF THE S, OF V,

OPENING HYMN.

'iSiTiiI'Miiii' ^"^^ command, attention, after the opening prayer.]

Air — "America."

God bless our native land !
Firm may she ever stand,

Through storm and night;
When the wild tempests rave
Ruler of wind and wave,
Do thou our country save

By thy great might.

53

MUSTER HYMN.

[After the obligation is delivered to Recruits, and the Chaplain's
prayer is completed, at the command, camp, attention! Sing the
following:]

Air. — '■ Sweet bye and bye.'''

Firm, united in our noble cause,

Loyal Brothers together we stand,
Friendship, Charity and Loyalty our laws;

Wo will spread them all over our land.
We will fight for the right,

And the memories of heroes gone before.
Ever blest the glorious light

Of freedom, blood-stained but secure.

CLOSING HYMN.

[At the command, attention! after the Chaplain's closing prayer
sing:

Air. — '' Greenville."

(Popularly known as " Days of Absence," and " Come ye Sinners
poor and needy.")

Brothers, now our work completed

Let us to our homes repair,
Still to friendship dedicated,

We will each perform our share.
Let our charity be abounding.

Unto all who wore the blue.
And in loyalty united,

We will to our laud be true.

Bearing high the noble banner,

Stained with blood of patriot sires,
We will ever on our altars,

Keep alive fair freedom's fires.
And the memories ever precious,

Of the heroes gone before,
As Sons of Veterans, we will cherish

Until time shall be no more.

IIsriDE2C.

TITLE. PAGE.

Blue Coat aud Miss Dixie— Recitation -25

Barbara Frietchie— Eecitation - 27

Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean . .45

Dutch Barbara Frietchie— Recitation 28

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! m

Hail to the Legions of the West 20

Is Our Banner Still Advancing?— Song or Recitation 14

No Fightin' in Heaven, Boys..- 37

Our Protest Against Toadj'ism to Traitors 21

Odes of the G. A. R 47

Odes of Lhe W. R. G- 50

Odes of the S. of V 52

Sheridan's Ride— Recitation ». o3

Shake Shnyder's Ride— Recitation 85

Song of a Thousand Years 39

The "Old Soldiers' " Auld Lang Syne , 2

The Chaplain's Rhymes of "Tenderfoot" and "Grayback" Times— Recitation— Illus-
trations by Lewis Hogarth Lozier 4

The Old Union Wagon— Illustration by Lewis Hogarth Lozier 17

The Nameless Graves Where Our Comrades Lie— Song- or Recitation... 23

The Frontier Veteran to His Grandson— Recitation— Illustration by Lewis Hogarth

Lozier 30

The Soldier Tramp ^.40

The Crutch in the Corner _ ....42

The Star Spangled Banner... , 43

The Sword of Bunker Hill _ 44

The Loyal "Dixie".. ._ 46

The Army Bean No. 1 .....47

The Cottage of the Dear Ones Left at Home 49

When Sherman Marched Down to the Sea.. 19

We'll Fight it Out Here on the Old Union Line. ..- 24

Yes, Our Flag is Still Advaticing 15

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