An old veteran

[Forty Rod SASS 3935]

Many years back there was an old veteran of the Confederate Army, a Major of some repute, who had never been north of the Mason-Dixon line.  He were his uniform proudly to any and all civic events, spoke knowingly and well to many, was considered a perfect Southern Gentleman under every circumstance, and was treated as a cherished historical member of a time gone by.  

 

His great grandson adored the old man and spent as much time as as possible at his knee.  As the old gent approached his 100th Birthday the boy decided to honor his great grandfather with a trip to New York City to see the sights.  After some discussion the old man finally agreed and the trip was funded by a number of citizens' groups.

 

The trip included the finest rooms and meals, personalized transportation and tours,  meetings with dignitaries, and press coverage fit for royalty. On the final day a small motorcade escorted them to the train station where they walked through the terminal to the gate.  Near the end was a totally destroyed old man in the worn and tattered tattered remains of a Union uniform.  Missing and warped limbs and scars and a blind eye, riding a plywood platform with rusty casters, filthy almost beyond description, the old Yankee vet was a sad and distressing sight to behold.  A rusty old cup was on the platform at his feet with a handwritten sign: Please help a veteran of the Grand Army of the Republic.

 

The oldRebel Major walked by, stopped and turned back, stood there a moment, a then dropped a ten dollar bill into the derelict's cup before returning on the trip to the train.

 

The great grandson was dumbfounded and moved to comment  "Sir, I have never before seen you do any charitable thing for any Yankee."

 

The old man turner to the boy and said "Sonny, that's because I never before saw a Damned Yankee shot up to my entire satisfaction!"