The third delightful task was founding the Hero Fund, in which my
whole heart was concerned. I had heard of a serious accident in a coal
pit near Pittsburgh, and how the former superintendent, Mr. Taylor,
although then engaged in other pursuits, had instantly driven to the
scene, hoping to be of use in the crisis. Rallying volunteers, who
responded eagerly, he led them down the pit to rescue those below.
Alas, alas, he the heroic leader lost his own life.
I could not get the thought of this out of my mind. My dear, dear
friend, Mr. Richard Watson Gilder, had sent me the following true and
beautiful poem, and I re-read it the morning after the accident, and
resolved then to establish the Hero Fund.
IN THE TIME OF PEACE
'Twas said: "When roll of drum and battle's roar
Shall cease upon the earth, O, then no more
The deed--the race--of heroes in the land."
But scarce that word was breathed when one small hand
Lifted victorious o'er a giant wrong
That had its victims crushed through ages long;
Some woman set her pale and quivering face
Firm as a rock against a man's disgrace;
A little child suffered in silence lest
His savage pain should wound a mother's breast;
Some quiet scholar flung his gauntlet down
And risked, in Truth's great name, the synod's frown;
A civic hero, in the calm realm of laws,
Did that which suddenly drew a world's applause;
And one to the pest his lithe young body gave
That he a thousand thousand lives might save.
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