Newspaper Page Text
Hl
1
i
: ||H
HU
yf |»3f
V \}
\V \V ♦
\ H
\ V 1
4fT
II
i
j i I
'
• I I
ill
EZX3
CONKY STILES
A STORY OF THE CIVIL WAR
By Eugene Field.
CONKT~STILES.
As near as I could find out. nobody
ever knew how Conky Stiles came to
know as much of the Bible as hg did.
Thirty-years ago people as a class
were much better acquainted with the
Bible than folks are nowadays, and
there wasn’t another one of ’em in the
whole Connecticut Valley, from the
Canada line to she Sound, that could
stand up ’long-side of Conky Stiles and
quote Scripture. Well he knew the
whole thing by heart from Genesis.
Chapter 1., to the amen at the end of
the Revelation of John the Divine;
that's the whole business in a nutshell!
His name wasn’t Conky; we called
hjm Conky for short. His real name
was Silas Stiles, but one time at a
Sunday-school convention .Mr. Hub
bell, the minister, spoke of him as a
‘‘veritable concordance of Holy Scrip
tures,” ’ and so we boys undertook to
call him Concordance, but bimeby that
name got whittled down to Conky, and
Conky stuck to him all the rest of his
life. •
When Conky was eight years old he
got the prize at our’Sunday-sehooi for
having committed to memory the most
Bible verses in the year, and that same
spring he got up and recited every line
of Acts of Apostles without having
to be prompted once. By the time he
was twleve years old he knew the
whole Bible by heart, and most of the
hymnbook, too, although, as 1 ve
said, the Bible was-his specialty.
Conky was always hearty and
cheery; we all felt good when he was
around. We never minded the wav
he had of quotin’ things from the Bi
ble; we’d got used to it, and maybe
it was a desirable influence. At any
rate we all liked Conkv..
But perhaps - you don’t understand
what 1 mean when I refer to his way
of quotin’ the Bible. It was like this:
Conky, we’ll say, would be coin’ down
thewdad. and I’d come out of the house'
and holler: ‘‘Hello, there, Conky; |
where be you goin’?”
Then he’d say: "John xxi:3.” That
would be all he’d say, and that would
be enough; for it gave us to under
stand that he was goin’ a-ffshin’.
Conky never made a mistake; his quo
tations -were always right.
The habit grew on him as he got old
er. Associating with Conky for fifteen
or twenty minutes wasn’t much dif
ferent from readin’ the Bible tor a
couple of days, except that there
wasn’t anv manual labor about it. I'
guess he’d have been a minister of i
the war hadn’t come along and spoiled;
it all. |
Tn the fall of 1862 there was a war
meetin’ in the town hall, and Elijah
Cutler made a speech urgin’ the men
folks to came forward and contribute
their services, their lives, if need be
to the cause of freedom and right. We
were all keyed up with excitment. for
next to Wendell Phillips and Henry
Ward Beecher, 1 guess Elijah Catler
was the greatest orator that ever lived.
While we were shiverin' and waitin’
for somebody to lead off. Conky Stiles
rose up and says: “I. Kings xix:2o”,
savs he. and with that he put on his
hat and walked out of the meetin’.
“Le mo. I pray thee, kiss my father
and my mother, and then I will follow
thee.”
That’s what Conkv said, or as good
as said, and that’s what ne eant. too.
He didn't put off his religion when
he put on his uniform. Conky Stiles,
soldier or civilian, was always a livin'
walkin' encyelopedy ot t.n_ Bible, a
human compendium of psalms and
proverbs and texts: and I had that
confidence in him that I’d have bet he
wrote the Bible himselif if I haden’t
known butter and to the contrary.
We were with McClellan a long spell.
There was a heap of sicknfess among
the boys, for we weren’t used to the
climate, and most of us pined for the
comforts of home. Lookin' back over
the thirty years that lie between this
time and that, i see one figure loomin’
up, calm and bright and beautiful, in
the midst of fever and suffering and
privation and death, 1 see a homely,
earnest face, radiant with sympathy
and love and hope, and I hear Conkj
Stiles’ voice again speaking comfort
and clyser to all about him. We al!
loved him; he stood next to Mr. Lin
coln and Gen. McCe'.lan in the hearts
of everybody in the regiment!
They sent a committee down from
our town <>ne Thanksgiving time, to
bring a lot of good things, and to see
hew soon. we were going to capture
Richmond. Mr. Hubbell, the minister,
was one of them. Deacon Cooley wa«
another. There was talk at one time
that. Conky had a soft spot in his
heart for the deacon’s eldest girl. Try
phena, but 1 always allowed that he
paid as much attention to the other
daughter, Tryphosa, as he did to her
elder sister, and 1 guess he hadn’t any
more hankerin’ for one than he had for
the other, i>r when the committee
came to go home, Conky says to Dea
con Cooley: “Well, good-bye, deacon."
says he, “Romans xvi:l2.”
The bistouries don’t say anything
about the skirmish we had with the
rebels at Churchhill’s bridge, along in
May of ’64, but we boys who were
there remember it as the toughest fight
in all bur experience. They were Just
desperate, the rebels were, and--well
we were mighty glad that the night
came, for a soldier can retreat in the
dark with fewer chances of interrup
tion. Out of our company ui 150, only
Page 12
TRENCH AND CAMP
sixty were left. You can judge from
that of what the fighting was at
Churchhill’s bridge. When they call
ed the roll in camp next day. Conkv
Stiles, wasn't there.
Had we left him dead at the bridge,
or was he wounded, dying the more
awful death of hunger, thirst and
neglect?
One said: “Let’s go back for Con
key!'*
A detachment of cavalry went out to
reconnoiter. Only the ruins of the
preceding day remained where we
we boys had stood ana stood and stood
—pnl yto be repulsed at last. Blue
coats and graycoats lay ~ide dry side
and over-against one another, in the
reconciling peace of death, containing
just a remnant of life, was found, and
one of these crippled bodies was what
was left of Conky.
When the surgeon saw the minie
hole hepe in his thigh, and the sabre
gash, herein his femple, he shook his
head, and we knew what that meant.
We heard Conky’s voice once, and
only once again. For when, just at
the last, he opened his eyes and saw
that we were there, he smiled, feeble
like, and the grace of the Book tri
umphed once more within him. and he
says--it seemed almost like a whisper,
he spoke so low: “Good-bye. bovs.
11. Timothy iv:7.”
And then, though hit light went out,
the sublime truth of his last words
shone from his white, peaceful face:
“I have fought a goc.d fight, I have
finished my course. I have kept the
faith'”
PRINTED BY REQUEST
WHEN THE WAR WILL END
The Chicago Sextet in the old Red Tri
angle Tent and later the Orpheus Four
in all the “Y” buildings popularized the
following song. Scores of requests have
come for the words which are repro
duced: , x
Then I’ll Com - Back to You.
While cannons roar and thunder far
across the deep blue sea.
There’s a little girl at home whose heart
is breaking.
And while she sits and wonders where
her soldier boy can be.
He is somewhere in the trenches for
Franco and Liberty.
But through her tears today I see her
smile with joy.
She reads th's letter from her darling
sold lei* boy:
CHORUS.
When the Fatherland has Boston Beans
L r breakfast, every day,
Then I’li come back to you,
When hev change Under the Linden and
rechristen it Broadway,
' Then I'll come back to you,
When tae Stars and Stripes are flying
frem each Castle on the Rhine,
And German bands are playing Yankee
Hoodie in rag-time.
And the Kaiser tells his people, “Uncle
Sain’s a friend of mine,”
Then I’ll come back to you.
11.
When all this war is over and we’ve
licked the enemy.
What a welcome waits the boys who II
be returning. .
Then hearts will cease their yearning for
the boys across the sea
And we'll all bo glad to see France and
poor old Belgium free.
And every soldier will remind his sweet
heart. too.
Remind her what he wrote of and it a.l
came true.
CHORUS.
When the German Kiddies dress the.r
dolls like dear old Uncle Sam,
Then I’ll co.no back to you,
And when Wilson's picture hangs in the
palace at Potsdam,
Then i'll come back io you.
When our brave Sammie boys have called
their big gigant c bluff,
And canned their German kultur, and
their rotten U-Boat stuff,
And the Kaiser says to Pershing, “Here’s
mv sword; I’ve got enough,”
Then Til come back to you.
When our Yankee Tars have fought and
won the freedom of the sea,
Then I’ll como back to you.
And when Uncle Sa th has made the world
safe for democracy.
Then .'ll come back to you.
When Belg tim has been restored and
freed from German loot.
And that imperial qu nee. the Prince, will
feel his daddy's boot.
And the Krupps will make their best
guns Old Glory to salute,
Then I'll come back to you.
EXTRA CHORUS.
When we've painted all of Germany a
deep Red, White and Blue,
Then I'll come back to you.
When we hear the German roosters crow
ing Yankee Doodle Doo,
Then I’ll como back to you.
When the. Wacht am Rhine is changed
into My Country ’Tis of Thee,
When Germans build a' statue like our
own Miss Liberty,
And when we have chased the Kaiser up
r. sour apple tree.
Then I’ll come back to you.
(Copyright, 1917, by M. Witmark & Sons,
New York City.)
FOUR BROTHERS IN
UNITED STATES SERVICE
L. K. Ketchum of Company K. of the
HO.th Infantry, Camp Hancock, lias been
chosen an interpreter for the army. He is
one of four brothers now in the United
Slates service. Others being: Carlton K.
Ketchum of the Ordnance Corps. Univer
sity of Pittsburg* George Ketchum in the
Aviation Corps in France; and Francis
Ketchum, now at Cape May, New Jersey,
in the Naval Reserve Corps.
The Ketchum boys are from Versailles,
Pennsylvania, where their mother now re
sides. Their stepfather, Mr. Alfred Hill
has four brothers fighting in the British
army.
Y. M. C. A. Will Conduct Great
Drive For Thrift In Army
During the month of January in the
Southeastern Military Department, the
army Y. C. A. will conduct an intensive
thrift campaign among enlisted men.
From Monday to Thursday, January
28th to 31st, a drive, for members in the
Red Triangle Savings Club will wind
up the campaign.
The campaign at Camp Hancock is
well outlined and next week's Trench
and Camp will be a thrift number.
Send in any articles on this subject.
“Prepare to Live’ is the slogan of the
army “Y” thrift campaign. A surgeon
of high rank in the navy says he has
come to the conclusion that the dis
ease in the camps is due principally to
the excess money and the attitude of
the men who feel that they are going
“over the top” to die; so they have
their “fling.” As a matter of fact, the
total loss of the British troops has been
less than seven per cent, compared to
twenty per cent of the expeditionary
force of one of our allies, incapacitated
by venereal disease. This means that
3 out of every 100 men come back. Men
should “Prepare to Live,” and not to
die.
In every Red Triangle building, ar
rangements have been made with ex
press companies or the secretaries to
issue money orders, and in many in
stances banking facilities are furnish-
THE ARMY CHAPLAIN
The army chaplain is the officer of
the unappreciated task. He is often
represented as a shop-worn preacher
who is looking for the easy job of rep*-
resenting religion in a feeble way for
a good stipend, to a disinterested army.
But that is not a fair portrait of. the
real army chaplain. He is a good sol
dier of the Cross who, in many cases
is the sole interpreter of Christianity
to a regiment with all the pretense and
veneer of life knocked off and who
thrust their naked souls with all the cp
tit;..des and appetites >f real hi mans. up
to the improvised pulpit ot the army
chaplain and see.n to s.;y, “Now what is
the reality in this Christianity that you
have been telling us about?” The men
of the army have settled down to a
temperless existence. They have
thought through most of the simpler
problems of life and no classic Chris
tianity with its complacencies and con
nivances can any longer stir the en
listed man officers of an army. It is
the good challenge up to the army
chaplain to make out his case that
Jesus is the world’s foremost “white
man,’’ that Christianity has its first
place for the aristocracy of service,
and that a fight can best b? iwti, or a
passion subdued, or a manhood realized
by linking one’s self on to Jesus Christ.
This is no easy task.
Not an Apostle of Piety.
Mere piety, at its best carries a nas
al tone, a soft hand and self-dispar
agement. The soldier wants none of
it. Real men want always a wholesome
religion, heroic consecration and nor
mal, vital, practical Christianity. This
type is always honored and cheered.
And then the chaplain must often be a
good fellow but his words must never
slump, he must tell good stories and
see the point without letting down the
bars of healthy burner. These men of
his look him straight in the eye and
ask, “is your stuff real enough to you
! to let you get by ?”
No Rhetorician of Religiosity.
A chest f• :’! of lung capacity and a
genius for bluffing with words often
satisfies the congregation of the aver
age church. There is a fellow sitting
in the pew who has made money, but
lias not discovered a trace of brain
power in his entire sueeossl'nl career.
Platitudes tickle him. Phrases pufi’ him
up. Winking between sentences from
the rostrum lull him to sleep, and he
never questions, never cares. But here
is a virile fellow, clean, heroic, angular,
rugged manly end lie is = -tying "grind
off the edges, burn off the paint, put
acid on that gold plate, get back to the
place when > we live, where we think,
where we make up our minds to sol
dier, and to fi; lit, and to win, and then
tell us in abort words what we want to
know. Mike us turn our thoughts your
way and get your Christ and his big
brother fri ndship .whether" or no we
appear to want to hear. Put your
goods on the counter and mark them
plain. We wilt decide whether they
have selling value.” So the army chap
lain has got to be bigger than phrases
and words. He must do what he ex
horts others to do. He must play the
game in the lime light with no reserva
tions. These chaplains whom 7 have
met ill the last month are of this type.
His Real Soul.
But why did he get into this terror
discipline and riot of hardship and this
situation which may lead to his death?
I suppose the spirit of adventure had
| a part in it. All strong men want to be
"soldiers of fortune.” But the army
chaplain’s great decision is the reason.
Somewhere, I do not know, —-it was
when he was alone,—the army chaplain
decided he was willing to give his life
for Christ and for the sons ■■• f the
service who would be his charges. And
so with the good of keep
ing the souls of Ids men open and frank
and clean and saintly—in the virile
•meaning of that much abused word,
Jan. 16, 1918.
ed through co-operation of nearby
banks.
The National Insurance for Soldiers
will also be boosted in conjunction with
army officers. This is an easily avail
able and very profitable form of sav
ings, It is referred to at length else
where.
Co-opc-ra’icn with the government
war savings stamps and certificates
will be boosted .u, an excellent and
patriotic thru’: method. Enlisted men
purchased over 5:>0,000,000 in bonds cf
the second! liberty loan issue. Th.ilt.
teaches a man to be independent fi
nancially, and to keep physically train
ed mentally, and close to God spiritual
ly.
The future statesmen, financiers and
captains of industry are in the camps
today. They have been drawn from
civilian life to Which they must retr-ii
toid while in training for a nation's de
fense they must be trained for t’.eir
own future defense. The thrift mes
sage will help to prevent these men
from returning physical, moral, and fi
nancial bankrupts, but bigger and bel
ter men prepared to participate in the
life of a nation that has conserved it
self to help make and keep the world
safe fol democracy.
In civil life likewise the Y. M. C. A.
is preparing for a thrift week cam
paign in all city associations beginning
February 3rd.
the chaplain wends his way among his
men, taking a thousand duties not his,
getting under the problems and enjoy
ing the confidences of his unit, ami
when the night comes he goes? back to
his tent unabashed by the seeming lack
of quick returns from Ms labors. He
has sown the good seel.
WM. RUSSELL OWEN.
THE LAST FLIGHT
Editor’s Note—The skylark sings f>,3
he mounts high in the air. But who
would expect a song from one engag
ed in the grim calling of an aviator
in the great war? And yet the flying
man may sometimes be a poet as these
novel and original verses attest. The
author, Dabney Horton, is a sergeant
in the French Aviation Service- It is
believed that this is the first poem
written by .a fighting aviator, and
breathing the real feeling of an air
warrior, which has appeared in print.
O God of France, we pilots pray
For France’s safety, and obey
Thy pointed finger in the gale.
Hail to Thee, Master of Storms, all
Hail!
Keep me this day from sudden sor
row.
Spare me today, for I’m home tomor
row.
Guard me this way ’gainst the weak
ened wire.
The fifty bullet of flying five.
The treacherous wing that would
buckle or break.
To drag me clown in tis whistling wake.
The morrow brings respite from fight
ing and flying—
And a breath of the Seine ere day Is
dying.
O God of France, by the prophet sung.
“The eagle that beareth up her young,’’
Let me pass quickly the curtain of
shell.
Grant Thy safe conduct, and landing
well.
Watch o’er my flight till the sun be
setting, x
For the faces of friends, and a week’s
forgetting.
Only this day grant me Thy care.
Where I tempt the avenues of air.
Lest a ! -art too joyful of earthly things
Should heedless fall ’neath the foe
men’s wings.
Grant Thy support should T lie
falling—■ J
•Tomorrow I go, and Paris is calling!
On the soldier’s road to the Gars de
Nord,
There's a vision we love as we’ve loved
befor* 1 .
The Tour Eiffel keening eternal tryst
With, tomevin Montmartre through 'he
Paris mis 4
O Great Storm Master, from sudden
sorrow
Keep me this day, .for I'm home to
morrow!
—DABNEY HORTON
Sergeant Pilot?-Aviateur, Escadrilla
017, Secteur Postal 151, France.
A DUEL OF AVIATORS
A duel was lately fought in the a'r
between Alexander Shott and John S.
Nott. Nott was shot and Shott was not.
In that duel it \Aas better to be Shott than
Nott, because Shott was not shot. But
there was a rumor that Nott was not shot
and Shott said that he was not, which
proves either that the shot Shott shot at
Nott was not shot or that Nott was shot
notwithstanding. It may be made to ap-‘
pear in trial that the shot Shot sho, shot
Nott, or as accidents with firearms are
frequent, it may be possible that the shot
Shott shot,-.shot Shott himself, when the
whole affair would solve itself into its
original elements and Shott would be shot
and Nott would not. But we believe,
however, that the shot Shott shot, shot
not Shott himself, but shot Nott, and t»
make the whole statement clear is that
Nott was shot by Shott and Shot was not
shot by Nott.
