r, they're ragin' an' tearin' an' desthroyin' their
foes.

"Did ye see what me frind Alger wrote to Chansy Depoo? Well, sir, Alger
has been misthreated. There's a good man. I say he's a good man. An' he
is, too. At anny thrick fr'm shingles to two-be-fours he's as good as
th' best. But no wan apprechated Alger. No wan undherstud him. No wan
even thried to. Day be day he published th' private letters iv other
people, an' that didn't throw anny light on his charackter. Day be day
he had his pitchers took, an' still th' people didn't get onto th'
cur-rves iv him. Day be day he chatted iv th' turrors iv war, an' still
people on'y said: 'An' Alger also r-ran.' But th' time come whin Alger
cud contain himsilf no longer, an' he set down an' wrote to Chansy
Depoo.

"'Mr. Chansy Depot, care iv Grand Cintral Depew, New York, N.Y.,
Esquire. Dear Chanse: I've been expectin' a letter fr'm ye f'r three or
four days. In reply to same will say: Oh, Chanse, ye don't know how I
suffer. I'm that low in me mind I feel like a bunch iv lathes. Oh, dear,
to think iv what I've gone through. I wint into th' war onprepared. I
had on'y so many r-rounds iv catridges an' a cross-cut saw, an' I
failed to provide mesilf with th' ord'nary necessities iv life. But, in
spite iv me deficiencies, I wint bravely ahead. Th' sthrain was
something tur-r'ble on me. Me mind give out repeatedly. I cud not think
at times, but I niver faltered. In two months I had enough supplies
piled up in Maine to feed ivry sojer in Cubia. They were thousands iv
r-rounds iv catridges f'r ivry rig'mint, and all th' rig'mints had to do
was to write f'r thim. Th' navy had taken Manila an' Cervera's fleet,
an' th' ar-rmy had taken Sandago an' th' yellow fever. Th' war is over,
an' peace wanst more wags her wings over th' counthry. Pine scantlings
is quoted sthrong. Ivrywhere is peace an' contint. Me photographs are on
sale at all first-class newsdealers. Yet there is no ca'm f'r me.
Onthinkin' wans insult me. They tell me a sojer can't ate gin'ral
ordhers. They want me to raysign an' go back to me humble home in
Mitchigan. Disgustin' men that've done nawthin' but get thimsilves
shot, ask f'r milk an' quinine. They'll be askin' me to carry food
to thim nex'. Oh, Chanse, oh, hivens, ye can't know how grieved I
am! Rather wud I have perished in a logjam thin to've indured this
ingratichood. But, in lookin' back over me past life, I can think
iv no wrong I've done. If me mim'ry is at