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Show MONUMENT TO "BUCKY; O'NEILL Prescott, Ariz., to Honor Rough Rid- , er Roosevelt's Sketch. , M. J. Hickey, a leading citizen of Prescott. Ariz., was in San Francisco this week, in the interests of a monument monu-ment which is soon to be erected in Prescott to the memory of General "Bucky" O'Neill, the gallant rough rider commander, who lost his life in Cuba- during the Spanish-American war, Mr. Hickey's visit to this city was made in order to secure data jti reference to the cost, etc., of the Dewey and McKinley monuments, says the Leader. With M. J. Hickey on the O'Neill riionumcnt committee are Judge Sloanc, Robert E. Morrison. Mayor M. Gold-water Gold-water andvJudffe Wells. At the last session of Arizona's legislature .the sum of $10,000 was appropriated for the monument, mon-ument, but it is expected that .nearly $25,000 will be expended in the work. Some opposition developed among a few of the bigots who occupy seats in the legislative halls of Arizona to the appropriation, owing to the fact that the monument was to perpetuate the memory of an "O'Neill," but the opposition oppo-sition was short-lived, and justice and true patriotism prevailed. During his visit to, California Mr. Hickey brought with him his daughter, who enters as a student Notre Dame college at San Jgse. 'In h'is book, "The Rough Riders," President Roosevelt says: "Bucky O'Neill of Arizona, captain of troop A, the mayor of Prescott, was a sheriff famous throughout the west for his feats of warfare against the Apache I no less than against the white road agents and man-killers. His father had fought in Meagher's brigade in the civil war, and he himself was a born soldier, a born leader of men. He was a wild, reckless fellow, soft 'spoken and of i dauntless courage and boundless ambition; ambi-tion; he was stanchly loyal to his friends, and cared for his men in every way. The men worshipped him, and would follow him anywhere. "Most of the rough riders had simple souls. They could relate facts, but they said very little about what they dimly felt. Bucky O'Neill, however, the iron-nerved, iron-nerved, iron-willed fighter," whose name was a by-word of - terror to every wrong-doer, white or red he, alone among his comrades, was a visionary, an articulate emotionalist. He was very quiet about it, never talking unless un-less he was sure of his listener; but at night, when we leaned on the railing to look at the Southern Cross, he was less apt to tell tales of his- stormy past than he was to speak of the mysteries which lie behind courage, and fear, and love, behind animal hatred and animal lust for the pleasures that have tangible shape.- He had keenly enjoyed life, and could breast its turbulent torrent as few men could; he. was a practical man, who knew how to wrest personal success suc-cess from adverse forces, among money-makers, politicians and desperadoes despera-does alike; yet down at the bottom what seemed to Interest him most was the philosophy of life itself, of our understanding un-derstanding of it. and of the limitations set to that understanding. "But he was as far as possible from being a mere dreamer of dreams. A stanchly loyal and generous friend, he was also exceedingly ambitious on his own account. If, by risking his life, no matter how great the risk, he could gain high military distinction, he was bent on gaining it. ' He had taken so many chances when death lav on the hazard, that he felt the odds were now against him; but; said he, "Who would not risk his life for a star?' Had he lived, and had the war lasted, he would surely have won the eaglet if not the star . "The most serious loss that I and the regiment could have suffered befell us just before we charged. Bucky O'Neill was strolling up and down in front ot his men, smoking a cigarette. He had a theory that an officer ought never to take cover a theory which was, of course, wrong, though in a volunteer organization the officers should certainly cer-tainly expose themselves very fully, simply for the effect on the men. As O'Neill moved to and fro his men begged him to lie down, and one of the sergeants said.-'Captain, a bullet is sure to hit you.' O'Neill took his cigarette out of his mouth, and. blowinsr out a cloud, of smoke, laughed and said, 'Sergeant, 'Ser-geant, the Spanish bullet isn't v made that will kill me.' A little later he discussed dis-cussed for a moment with one of the regular officers the direction from which the Spanish fire was coming. As he turned on his heel a bullet struck I him in the mouth and came out at the back of hisJiead: so that even before ho fell his wild '.and gallant soul had gone out into the darkness." - |