The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 26, 1898, Page 17

breeding and the bad manners of Captain March. 3 t The Astor Battery landed in San Francisco to find the women of the Red Cross waiting, so to speak, on the city’s wharves, with refr their lips and ever adorable in the right place, and more or les: The commanding offi declined their things was offen: one of them differs from the other. certain that he was met by the herald of the Cross, a very self-respecting, God-fear- ing, soldier-loving gentler the sign of the Red Cross “My men,” It ws It wa cisco break: #d, lunched or dined previously or not. “My mer It was exx tyranny of the ay, the twentfeth of June, the women of the Red Cross met the spirit of West Point. explained to him that all sol¢ | SAN FRANCISCO 'JUNE 26 1898 flannel ‘bands and comfort bags, count money, fold garments, write and answer letters while braves are passing, flags are flying, crowds are cheering? Only a few work this way for the Army. And so they talked their sorrows over with the press and what the tongue had spared the pen destroyed. Bee fore the Astor Battery had its tent ropes stretched over the sands of Camp Merritt, it had not a manner to its name. It was a company of snobs, a gathering of gilded upstarts, a horde of purse-proud barbarians from the East. The evening papers reproved them, the morning papers reviled them. And from arm to arm of the Red Cross their name was spoken in contempt. called it by various and sundry other names. They called it snobbery, discourtesy, brutality, {ll- ment: In their hands, garlands at their breasts, blessings on ve sentimental enthusiasm which makes woman what she is, of a nuisance out of it. Captain Peyton C. March, refused their hospitality, It is said that his manner of ‘doing these three ., since 1 have heard six stories about it, and. each .« in their souls that sweet effus er of the Astor Batte garlands, ignored their enthus ve, but of that I cannot be s D S S “Halt!” said the sentry before the Astor Camp. He looked much like other sentries on a hot and windy day. He wore no coat, and his army shirt was white in every fold with little drifts of sand. His face had gathered dust; his winked it away; his hair was gray with it; his hands were rough and soiled. The red artillery pe ran down his legs, a red kerchief was knotted at his throat. He was of fair height, well r le, well browned, straight, strong, young. I would not have picked him for a doctor, a lawyer, a Prince, a priest or anything but a soldier. 4 The camp looked much like other camps under good military raked up clean. No women sat at the tent flaps nor loitered on field. No men crossed it ex- cept men in the uniform of the Battery. No fringe of soldiers and civilians hung to the fence. It was possible to walk around its four sides without being winke or importuned for beefsteaks, was the day before the Supe: who in vited him with all his men to breakfast and banquet at d breakfast.” , coming and going to war by way of San Fran- -d with the Red Cross whether they had breakfast- id Captain March, “have pline. Its waste of sand was sted, lunched or are regulars. ulars apd volunteers yielded alike to.the gentle of the army * said Captain March, ained to him that inistering ar : d at, leered upon, spoken to, garettes, whisky or the money to procure the same. This ors closed the streets about Camp Merritt by way of re- “I wish,” said Captain March, “to get my men to camp as soon as possible.” U‘lfi:\'lfllsv the error of ever h;n'mfi- lor_t them open. And the herald went with drooping plum ry the messageé to the Cross. l\?,nf'_]“"“a"_ce to camp,” said the sentry. It was heard and scarce believed.. Two fair em ries went over to the Astor “‘3 mrf‘ if you please, to "Evl'lJla.hl March.” Batte nd plead plaintiv of the disappointment which waited a refusal. Corporal of the guard—two! They tack. La n lunch? W long walking. ‘And ju vas one of begging, ritated Captai their reputati They also left twelve men as post guard of equip- ment ¥y to and d ound the Co: And when Was now past And so, 4 n arn gentle woman with her delicate Where is the mmanding off the men breakfaste At five o'clock. Poor dears! It it had they bre: asted on? Coffee and hard- fare. ‘And when would they have their Camp Merritt. Dear heart! But that was in't the Captain, p 2 And wouldn’t he now? cup of coffee? And here and here was another to st, by coaxing, pleading, teasing, nagging, su- raying the women of the Red Cross did wich and a cup of coffee’ each to the men tery who sang sweetly to them for the sup- curtly ordered to .fall in by their ir- marched away up Market street, leaving nd them. “By appointment?” asked the corporal. “No.” “I shall have to ask you to wait here.” He passed over the sand to the tent before which floats the Battery’s col- ors—a field scarlet with gold cannon crossed. When he plowed back, a long maxf in the fatigue dress of a first lieutenant of artillery plowed after him. - This long man gave me smileless greeting. i am Captain March.” He uncovered and stood holding his soft hat in his hand, a tall, lean, dark, slim- ted figure against the stretch of sand. His face is lorg, ending in a pointed beard, delicately cut, of good feature and somewhat somber expression. His eves are grave, gray, direct. “I don’t expect you to be cordial,” I said, remem- bering certain press comments. “At le ast I needn’t keep you standing outside the gates,” he answered. “Won't you come in? Will you walk over to my tent? Will you sit down here or would you rather go inside?” “I will go inside, thank you. I don’t think your manners are so bad.” “Don’t you?”’ “You know they are consid- peak of P> A ered m‘um\'smlw. t the summit of im- ; ] : % fak i TesTiey ss women took the eved upon it as s be t, and the deceitful dozen feasted fa- Captain ing back and put aid Red Cross girl, 1ght we were not looking.” the glow of k impulse, check- nted in the than all of courtesy, beeooe oo e & @ & & & Continued on S Page 18. AR A R RX 13 te her sufferings honored and sun and out the “YOU ‘.KNOW YOU ARE CONSIDERED-QUITE IMPOSSIBLE." ' ; : - S