An' wut Spartans wuz lef' when the battle wuz done Wuz them thet wuz too unambitious to run. Oh, ef we hed on'y jes' gut Reecognition, Things now would ha' ben in a different position! You'd ha' hed all you wanted: the paper block ade Smashed up into toothpicks, unlimited trade SWOW, Hed ben thicker 'n provisional shinplasters now, Quinine by the ton 'ginst the shakes when they seize ye, Nice paper to coin into C. S. A. specie; The voice of the driver 'd be heerd in our land, An' the univarse scringe, ef we lifted our hand : Would n't thet be some like a fulfillin' the prophecies, With all the fus' fem'lies in all the fust offices? 't wuz a beautiful dream, an' all sorrer is idle, But ef Lincoln would ha' hanged Mason an' Slidell! For would n't the Yankees hev found they 'd ketched Tartars, Ef they 'd raised two sech critters as them into martyrs ? Mason wuz F. F. V., though a cheap card to win on, But tother was jes' New York trash to begin on; They'd ha' felt they wuz truly fulfillin' their mis sion, An' oh how dog-cheap we'd ha' gut Reecognition ! But somehow another, wutever we 've tried, Though the the'ry 's fust-rate, the facs wun't coincide: Facs are contrary 'z mules, an' ez hard in the mouth, An' they allus hev showed a mean spite to the South. Sech bein' the case, we hed best look about For some kin' o' way to slip our necks out: Le''s vote our las' dollar, ef one can be found, (An', at any rate, votin' it hez a good sound,) Le''s sware thet to arms all our people is flyin', (The critters can't read, an' wun't know how we 're lyin',) Thet Toombs is advancin' to sack Cincinnater, An' gone in for sunthin' promiscu'sly awfle. An' now our las' chance is in puttin' to test Poor shotes thet ye could n't persuade us to tech, feed 'em With a nod now an' then, when we happen to need 'em ; Why, for my part, I'd ruther shake hands with a nigger Than with cusses that load an' don't darst dror a trigger; They're the wust wooden nutmegs the Yankees produce, Shaky everywheres else, an' jes' sound on the goose; They ain't wuth a cuss, an' I set nothin' by 'em, But we 're in sech a fix thet I s'pose we mus' try 'em. I- But, Gennlemen, here's a dispatch jes' come in Which shows thet the tide 's begun turnin' Gret Cornfedrit success! C'lumbus eevacooated! I mus' run down an' hev the thing properly stated, An' show wut a triumph it is, an' how lucky To fin❜lly git red o' thet cussed Kentucky, An' how, sence Fort Donelson, winnin' the day Consists in triumphantly gittin' away. Houth No. V. SPEECH OF HONORABLE PRESERVED 'DOE IN SECRET CAUCUS. TO THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. JAALAM, 12th April, 1862. GENTLEMEN,As I cannot but hope that the ultimate, if not speedy, success of the national arms is now sufficiently ascertained, sure as I am of the righteousness of our cause and its consequent claim on the blessing of God, (for I would not show a faith inferior to that of the pagan historian with his Facile evenit quod Dis cordi est,) it seems to me a suitable occasion to withdraw our minds a moment from the confusing din of battle to objects of peaceful and permanent interest. Let us not neglect the monuments of preterite history because what shall be history is so diligently making un der our eyes. Cras ingens iterabimus æquor; to-morrow will be time enough for that stormy sea; to-day let me engage the attention of your readers with the Runic inscription to whose fortunate discovery I have heretofore alluded. Well may we say with the poet, Multa renascuntur quæ jam cecidere. And I would premise, that, although I can no longer resist the evidence of my own senses from the stone before me to the ante-Columbian discovery of this continent by the Northmen, gens inclytissima, as they are called in a Palermitan inscription, written fortunately in a less debatable character than that which I am about to decipher, yet I would by no means be understood as wishing to vilipend the merits of the great Genoese, whose name will never be forgotten so long as the inspiring strains of "Hail Columbia " shall continue to be heard. Though he must be stripped also of whatever praise may belong to the experiment of the egg, which I find proverbially attributed by Castilian authors to a certain Juanito or Jack, (perhaps an offshoot of our giant-killing mythus,) his name will still remain one of the most illustrious of modern times. But the impartial historian owes a duty likewise to obscure merit, and my solicitude to render a tardy justice is perhaps quickened by my having known those who, had their own field of labor been less secluded, |