old men have better manners; they have learned that
there is a good deal more in the people of the world
to appeal to their affection and kindly toleration
than they thought for at the beginning of their lives;
that there is a great deal of good in every man and
woman, and that it won’t do to pick out their
faults to the exclusion of their virtues; that a touch
of kindly courtesy will often reveal to you a wholly
different man from the surly one who stood before you
a minute before; in short, our old man has learned
more and more the lesson to love his neighbor as himself.
That is the true “old school” founded
eighteen hundred years ago.
OBSERVATIONS OF A RETIRED VETERAN X
The procession of two regiments of veterans through
our streets a few days ago must have set a good many
of us retired veterans who were not in the line, to
thinking. It did me. It set me to thinking,
not of war, not of peace, not of reunions, but of
how time has changed us all in twenty years.
In a neighboring city where I volunteered, the old
company, with the old name and the old uniform, is
still kept up by our young successors. I saw
it lately on parade, and as I saw the trim looking
young fellows of from nineteen to twenty-five, clad
in the same bright uniform of twenty years ago, and
stepping out with all the brisk and cheery step of
youth, it looked as if there had been a resurrection
of the old days. Could we old gray heads ever
have looked like these! Could that gay young
spark mounted on the leading caisson horse and furtively
chaffing No.
13 be Hilleary and Hutchins come to life
again? Could that serious, slender boy, all attention
to the word of command, be the grave and clerical
Hale Houston of this day gone back to youth again.
Can that sturdy No. 4 at the gun, be old Boss Lumpkin?
Could we all have looked as fresh and full of youth,
and as full of engaging humor and good temper as these
young fellows? I suppose we did, though it is
hard to be believed, even by ourselves. I can
tell you of a reunion that, if promised, would bring
more of the old boys together than all the patriotism
than can ever fill the American heart. Just promise
them that for that day they shall be young again!
Bless my heart, what a crowd you could have! Young
again, mark you, both in mind and body. I don’t
know one of the old fellows who, if he had the option,
wouldn’t take back the youth he had twenty-three
years ago with the war, famine and hardships that
followed. What a deal of difference it does make
to a man whether the world is behind or in front of
him.
