COWBOY AND CLUB MAN
A RHYME OF THE ROUGH RIDERS
The ways of fate they had trod were as wide
As the sea from the shouting sea,
But when they had ranged them side by side,
Strenuous, eager, and ardent-eyed,
They were brothers in pluck, they were brothers in pride,
As the veriest brethren be.
They heard no bugle-peal to thrill
As they crouched in the tangled grass, But the sound of bullets whirring shrill
From hidden hollow and shrouded hill; And they fought as only the valiant will
In the glades of Guasimas.
Aye, they fought, let their blood attest !
The blood of their comrades gone;
Fought their bravest and fought their best,
As when, like a wave, in their zealous zest
They swept and surged o'er the sanguine crest
Of the heights of San Juan.
So here's to them all-a toast and a cheer!
From the greatest down to the least, The heroes who fronted the deadliest fear,
Leader and lad, each volunteer,
The men whom the whole broad land holds dear
From the western sea to the east !
-Clinton Scollard, 1898.
THOSE April days of 1898 in Washington were full of an underlying current of excitement. Drifting toward war we certainly were, and within a very short few weeks the drift had become a fixed headway, and Captain Dewey, on the receipt of a certain telegram from a certain acting secretary