Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 May 1884 — THE BAD BOY. [ARTICLE]

THE BAD BOY.

“What you doing that money up. in a paper for,” said the grocery man to the bad boy, as he came in with a two-dol-lar bill, and wrapped it up in a half sheet of note paper, and asked for an envelope. “That’s some April fool business I’ll bet $5.” “I’ll take the bet, and when I convince you that it is no April fool business, wo will put your $6 in with this and send it * I am going to sent that $2 to the Confederate Grand Army fair, at Richmond, Va. You see, there are lots of private soldiers who fought in the Confederate army, who are destitute, some of them on the verge of starvation, with families to support, and they have no government to give them pensions, and their neighbors are poor, so their comrades are getting up a fair to raise money to help support them, and perhaps build a home for them like our soldiers’ home, and the Confederates ask the Northern people to chip in a little towards it. I sympathize with the old boys $2; how muoh do you sympathize’?” and the boy looked at the grocery man as though' he expected a contribution. “Not a darn sympathize,” said the grocery man, as he picked up the cheese-knife and raised it over his head as though he wanted to cut a slice of cheese olf a Confederate soldier. “No, sir, I won’t give a nickel. Serves them right if they suffer and starve. What did they want to raise a row lor? They were wliipped, and now they must submit to tneir defeat, and live the best way they can. Catch me giving money to rebels I No; never! You are a fool. ” “You are a heartless old cuss, that’s what you are. You never was a soldier, or you would have some little charity concealed about your carcass. The Union soldiers are giving cheerfully toward helping their old old opponents, and it comes with a bad grace for a stay-at-home coward like you to go back on soldiers. U niou othcers shake hands with Confederate officers, and the Government gives offices to them, and when iliey come up North everybody is glad to see them, and when our people go South in the winter everybody treats them splendid, and they forget all about the terrible war, but here is a chance to do -something kind for the old crippled and sick private soldiers Of the Confederate army, who have hearts and souls and everything but money, and you refuse to give a nickel, eh?” “Yes, I refuse,” said the grocery man, as he went off down the counter to get away from the boy. “I don’t want nothing to do with men who tried to break up this Union. Condemn them, they shot a brother-in-law of mine in the back, and for a year after the war he couldn’t sit down, except on his knees. When I think of what that man suffered for want of rest it makes me wild, and when I. think of the Government refusing my brother-in-law a pension on the flimsy ground that he was running away from the enemy in the field, my blood boils. He had to get baok to the rear at Gettysburg, because he had left his knapsack with his writing materials in, about a mile back, and lie wanted to write a letter to his parents. By gum! I won’t give a cent.” “Those who were shot' in the back, and their friends, are the most bitter against the Confederates, ” said the bad boy, sarcastically. “The Union boldiers who were shot in the breast, or had an arm or a leg shot off while at the front, and who fell with their faces toward the boys in gray, are the ones who appreciate bravery, and they don’t kick on chipping in a little to help their old enemies, who are friends now, out of a tight place. You would treat our misguided neighbors worse than England treats the Zulus. You are worse than a cannibal. You do not seem to appreciate the fact that these old Confederate soldiers are white; that they are brothers, belonging to the same country that we do, speaking the same language, and ready to fight for our Union at the drop of the hat if ever occasion requires. You would see them starve, and not raise a helping hand. You would not see a dog starve if he came to your door and plead mutely for food, and yet you will see a Confederate soldier, who for three years fought because he thought he was right, and went to his desolate home with a bullet in him, suffer for the necessaries of life, and you refuse to help him. Can’t you realize that his children are as dear to him as yours are to you, and that it bteaks his heart to see their pitiful faces pinched with hunger, and that their voices asking for bread from the father who is unable to earn it for them, sound to him like a death knell ? Can’t you imagine that the Confederate, soldier feels crushed to know the need of the price of a sack of flour, when millions of dollars are squandered every day, in foolishness, by rich pecqile who are no better than he is ? I should think, if you could picture to yourself old veteran Confederates in ragpi, with children around them, climbing on their knees, and looking up into their bronzed or pale faces with wondering eyes, asking by their looks why it is that they have no homes, no food, and precious little clothes, if you have a' soul in you, you would reach down in your pocket and find something that you would be glad-to give to them. Try and realize that those men are human, and as good as we average, up North here, that their children are handsome and loving, and need educating, * and need words of cheer instead of curses, and think how rich our people are at the North, and how poor they are, and horw much good a few dollars, that we would not miss, will do them, and how far a little money would go towards making them comfortable, and making them feel that though our people were hard fighters, and shot from the shoulder, the recoil of the guns did not callous tho hearts of the victors, How much better you would feel if you knew tbe $5 you are soing to give me, to put in this letter with my $2, would reach a Confederate soldier who was so despondent as to almost wish he were dead, and change his countenance from despair to smiling hope, and cause him to thank his God and your God that the darkest hoqr is always just before day, and day had dawned, and his babies would now

| laugh on a lull stomach, while the ! soldier papa and the patient Southern mamma would cry for joy, and say God bless our Northern brother and shield him from all harm. What do you think about this scheme, any way ?” and the boy took an envelope in a business way and began directing it to the Confeder- | ate Grand Army at Richmond, while | his tongue was run out on one side just j like a boy when writing a letter. “Now look a-here, you dry up this kind of talk or you will have me bellering,” said the grocery man, as he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. “Here, don’t send that letter by mail. Send it by express, and put in $lO for me, and put on a postscript and tell the boss Confederate soldier that the $2 comes from the best-hearted boy in Wisconsin, while the $lO is from the almightiest condemned fool that ever abused a white man behind his back. That oration of yours settles me, boy. You can teach me more sense in ten minutes than all the ministers can in a year. Shake, you young villain,” and the grocery man came from behind the counter and hugged the bad boy as though he -were a girl. “Another county heard from,” said the bad boy, as ho put the sl2 in the envelope and started down to the express office. “It’s a cold day when Hennery can’t get in l\is work for charity,” and he went off whistling “Away Down South in Dixie,” while the grocery man looked out the window at him with a big smile, and began humming an old Southern tune that he had almost forgotten.— Peck’s Sun.