Thet I m percussion changin' back to flint;

Wal, ef it's so, I ain't agoin' to werrit, For th' ole Queen's-arm hez this pertickler merit,

It gives the mind a hahnsome wedth o' margin

To kin' o' make its will afore dischargin':

I can't make out but jest one ginnle rule,

No man need go an' make himself a fool,

Nor jedgment ain't like mutton, thet can't bear

Cookin' tu long, nor be took up tu rare.

I've allus foun' 'em, I allow, sence then

About ez good for talkin' to ez men ; They'll take edvice, like other folks, to keep,

(To use it 'ould be holdin' on 't tu cheap,)

They listen wal, don' kick up when you scold 'em,

An' ef they've tongues, hev sense enough to hold 'em ;

Though th' ain't no denger we shall lose the breed,

I gin'lly keep a score or so for seed, An' when my sappiness gits spry in spring,

So's 't my tongue itches to run on full

away,

Five year ago, jes' sech an Aprul day; Peace, that we hoped 'ould come an' build last year

An' coo by every housedoor, is n't here,

No, nor wun't never be, for all our jaw, Till we 're ez brave in pol'tics ez in war! O Lord, ef folks wuz made so 's 't they could see

The begnet-pint there is to an idee ! [Sensation.] Ten times the danger in 'em th' is in steel;

They run your soul thru an' you never feel,

But crawl about an' seem to think you 're livin',

Poor shells o' men, nut wuth the Lord's / forgivin',

Till you come bunt ag'in a real live fect, An' go to pieces when you'd ough' to ect!

Thet kin' o' begnet 's wut we're crossin' now,

An' no man, fit to nevvigate a scow, 'Ould stan' expectin' help from Kingdom Come,

While t' other side druv their cold iron home.

My frien's, you never gethered from my mouth,

No, nut one word ag'in the South ez South,

Nor th' ain't a livin' man, white, brown,

nor black,

Gladder 'n wut I should be to take 'em back;

But all I ask of Uncle Sam is fust To write up on his door, "No goods on trust ";

[Cries of "Thet 's the ticket!"] Give us cash down in ekle laws for all, An' they'll be snug inside afore nex' fall.

Give wut they ask, an' we shell hev Jamaker,

Wuth minus some consid'able an acre; Give wut they need, an' we shell git 'fore long

A nation all one piece, rich, peacefle,

Ez for their l'yalty, don't take a goad to 't,

But I do' want to block their only road to 't

By lettin' 'em believe thet they can git Mor 'n wut they lost, out of our little wit:

I tell ye wut, I'm 'fraid we 'll drif' to leeward

'Thout we can put more stiffenin' into Seward;

He seems to think Columby 'd better

ect

Like a scared widder with a boy stiffnecked

Thet stomps an' swears he wun't come in to supper;

She mus' set up for him, ez weak ez Tupper,

Keepin' the Constitootion on to warm, Tell he 'll eccept her 'pologies in form: The neighbors tell her he's a crossgrained cuss

Thet needs a hidin' 'fore he comes to

wus;

"No," sez Ma Seward, "he 's ez good 'z the best,

All he wants now is sugar-plums an' rest"; "He sarsed my Pa," sez one; stoned my son,"

"He

Another edds. "O, wal, 't wuz jest his fun."

"He tried to shoot our Uncle Samwell dead."

"'T wuz only tryin' a noo gun he hed." "Wal, all we ask 's to hev it understood

You'll take his gun away from him for good;

We don't, wal, nut exac'ly, like his play,

Seein' he allus kin' o' shoots our way. You kill your fatted calves to no good eend,

"Thout his fust sayin', 'Mother, I hev sinned!'"

("Amen!" frum Deac'n Greenleaf.]

"Nobody ain't a Union man, sez he, "Thout he agrees, thru thick an' thin, with me;

Warn't Andrew Jackson's 'nitials jes' like mine?

An' ain't thet sunthin' like a right divine

To cut up ez kentenkerous ez I please, An' treat your Congress like a nest o' fleas?"

Wal, I expec' the People would n' care, if

The question now wuz techin' bank or tariff,

But I conclude they 've 'bout made up their mind

This ain't the fittest time to go it blind, Nor these ain't metters thet with pol'tics swings,

But goes 'way down amongst the roots o' things;

Coz Sumner talked o' whitewashin' one day

They wun't let four years' war be throwed away.

"Let the South hev her rights?" They "Thet's you! say, But nut greb hold of other folks's tu." Who owns this country, is it they or Andy?

Leastways it ough' to be the People and he;

Let him be senior pardner, ef he 's so, But let them kin' o' smuggle in ez Co; [Laughter.]

Did he diskiver it? Consid❜ble numbers

Think thet the job wuz taken by Columbus.

Did he set tu an' make it wut it is? Ef so, I guess the One-Man-power hez riz.

Did he put thru the rebbles, clear the docket,

An' pay th' expenses out of his own pocket?

Ef thet's the case, then everythin' I

Is this ere pop'lar gov'ment thet we

run

A kin' o' sulky, made to kerry one? An' is the country goin' to knuckle down

To hev Smith sort their letters 'stid o' Brown?

Who wuz the 'Nited States 'fore Richmon' fell?

Wuz the South needfle their full name to spell?

An' can't we spell it in thet short-han' way

Till th' underpinnin' 's settled so 's to stay?

Who cares for the Resolves of '61, Thet tried to coax an airthquake with a bun?

Hez act'ly nothin' taken place sence then

To larn folks they must hendle fects like men?

Ain't this the true p'int? Did the Rebs accep' 'em

Ef nut, whose fault is 't thet we hev n't kep' 'em?

War n't there two sides? an' don't it stend to reason

Thet this week's 'Nited States ain't las' week's treason?

When all these sums is done, with

nothin' missed,

An' nut afore, this school 'll be dismissed.

I knowed ez wal ez though I'd seen 't with eyes

Thet when the war wuz over copper 'd

rise,

An' thet we'd hev a rile-up in our kettle

'T would need Leviathan's whole skin to settle:

I thought 't would take about a generation

'Fore we could wal begin to be a nation,

But I allow I never did imegine 'T would be our Pres'dunt thet 'ould drive a wedge in

To keep the split from closin' ef it could,

An' healin' over with new wholesome

wood;

tu;

The State goes out, the sovereignty don't stir,

But stays to keep the door ajar for her. He thinks secession never took 'em out, An' mebby he 's correc', but I misdoubt;

Ef they war n't out, then why, 'n the name o' sin,

Make all this row 'bout lettin' of 'em in?

In law, p'r'aps nut; but there's a diffurence, ruther,

Betwixt your mother-'n-law an' real mother, [Derisive cheers.]

An' I, for one, shall wish they'd all been som'eres,

Long 'z U. S. Texes are sech reg'lar

go on straight;

They did n' seem to set much by the deacon,

Nor preachin' did n' cow 'em, nut to speak on;

Fin'ly they swore thet they 'd go out an' stay,

An' hev their fill o' mutton every day; Then dogs an' shepherds, after much hard dammin',

[Groan from Deac'n G.] Turned tu an' give 'em a tormented lammin',

An' sez, "Ye sha' n't go out, the murrain rot ye,

To keep us wastin' half our time to watch ye!"

But then the question come, How live together

'Thout losin' sleep, nor nary yew nor