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“Nobody ain't a Union man," sez he, "'Thout he agrees, thru thick an' thin,
with me; War n'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'
fieas ? Wal, I expec' the People would n' 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 say,
“ Thet's you ! 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 num
bers Think thet the job wuz taken by Co
lumbus. 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 thev bim come an' pay my ennooal texes.
(Profound sensation.] Was 't he thet shou'dered all them
million guns? Did he lose all the fathers, brothers,
Is this ere pop'lar gov'ment thet we 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 Rich
mon' 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 dis
I knowed ez wal ez though I'd seen 't 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 genera
tion 'Fore we could wal begin to be a na
tion, But I allow I never did imegine 'Twould 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
For th' ain't no chance o' healin' while
they think Thet law an' gov'ment 's only printer's I mus' confess I thank him for dis
coverin' The curus way in which the States are
sovereign; They ain't nut quite enough so to rebel, But, when they fin' it's costly to raise
h - (A groan from Deac'n G.1 Why, then, for jes' the same superl
tive reason, They're most too much so to be tetched
for treason ; They can't go out, but ef they somehow
du, Their sovereignty don't noways go out
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 mis
doubt; 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 dif
furence, 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
comers. But, O my patience ! must we wriggle
back Into th’ ole crooked, pettyfoggin' track, When our artil'ry-wheels a road hev Stret to our purpose ef we keep the rut? War 's jes' dead waste excep' to wipe
the slate Clean for the cyph'rin of some nobler fate.
That pints it slick ez weathercocks do
barns: Onct on a time the wolves hed certing
rights Inside the fold; they used to sleep there
nights. An', bein' cousins o' the dogs, they
took Their turns et watchin', reg'lar ez a
book; But somehow, when the dogs hed gut
asleep, Their love o' mutton beat their love o
sheep, Till gradilly the shepherds come to see Things war n't agoin' ez they 'd ough'
to be ; So they sent off a deacon to remonstrate Along 'th the wolves an' urge 'em to
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 fillo' mutton every day ; Then dogs an' shepherds, after much hard dammin',
[Groan from Deac'n G.) Turned tu an' give 'em a tormented
“Ye sha' n't go out, the mur
rain rot ye, To keep us wastin' half our time to watch
! But then the question come, How live
together 'Thout losin' sleep, nor nary yew nor
wether? Now there wuz some dogs (noways
wuth their keep) Thet sheered their cousins' tastes an'
sheered the sheep; They sez., “ Be gin'rous, let 'er swear
right in, An', ef they backslide, let 'em swear
ag'in ; Jes' let 'em put on sheep-skins whilst
they 're swearin'; To ask for more 'ould be beyond ali
bearin'." “Be gin'rous for yourselves, where you
Ez for dependin' on their oaths an thet, 'Twun't bind 'em mor 'n the ribbin
roun' my het ; I heared a fable once from Othniel
're to pay,
I 've noticed thet each half-baked
scheme's abetters Are in the hebbit o' producin' letters Writ by all sorts o'never-heared-on
fellers, 'Bout ez oridge'nal ez the wind in
bellers ; I've noticed, tu, it's the quack med'
cines gits (An' needs) the grettest heaps o' stiffykits;
[Two apothekeries goes out.) Now, sence I lef’ off creepin' on all
fours, I hain't ast no man to endorse my
course; It's full ez cheap to be your own en
dorser, An' ef I've made a cup, I'll fin' the
saucer; But I've some letters here from t'other
side, An' them's the sort thet helps me to
decide ; Tell me for wut the copper-comp'nies
hanker, An' i'll tell you jest where it's safe to anchor.
(Faint hiss.) Fus’ly the Hon'ble B. 0. Sawin writes Thet for a spell he could ’n sleep o'
nights, Puzzlin' which side wuz preudentest to
pin to, Which wuz th' ole homestead, which
the temp’ry leanto ; Et fust he jedged 't would right-side-up To come out ez a 'ridge'nal Union
man, “But now,” he sez, “I ain't nut quite
so fresh; The winnin' horse is goin' to be Sccesh;
You might, las' spring, hev easily
walked the course, 'Fore we contrived to doctor th' Union
horse ; Now we're the ones to walk aroun' the
nex' track : Jest you take hold an' read the follerin
extrac', Out of a letter I received last week From an ole frien' thet never sprung a
leak, A Nothun Dem'crat o' th' ole Jarsey
blue, Born copper-sheathed an' copper-fast
ened tu. “These four years past it hez been
tough To say which side a seller went for; Guideposts all gone, roads muddy 'n
rough, An' nothin' duin' wut 't wuz meant for: Pickets a-firin' left an' right, Both sides a lettin' rip et sight, Life warn't wuth hardly payin' rent for. “Columby gut her back up so, It war n't no use a-tryin' to stop her, War's emptin's riled her very dough An' made it rise an' act improper; 'Twuz full ez much ez I could du To jes' lay low an' worry thru, 'Thout hevin' to sell out my copper. “Afore the war your mod'rit men Could set an' sun 'em on the fences, Cyph'rin' the chances up, an' then Jump off which way bes' paid expenses; Sence, 't wus so resky ary way, I did n't hardly darst to say I 'greed with Paley's Evidences.
(Groan from Deac'n G.
“Ask Mac ef tryin' to set the fence
(Three cheers for Grant and Sherman “Come peace, I sposed thet folks 'oue
like Their pol'tics done ag'in by proxy
Give their noo loves the bag an' strike A fresh trade with their reg'lar doxy; But the drag 's broke, now slavery's
gone, An' there's gret resk they'll blunder on, Ef they ain't stopped, to real Democ'cy.
“We've gut an awful row to hoe
ducked in ;
“No white man sets in airth's broad
aisle Thet I ain't willin' t' own ez brother, An' ef he's heppened to strike ile, I dunno, fin'ly, but I'd ruther: An' Paddies, long 'z they vote all right, Though they ain't jest a nat'ral white, I hold one on 'em good 'z another.
* I like the speech best, I confess, The logic, preudence, an' good taste An' it 's so mad, I ruther guess There 's some dependence to be placed on 't ;
(Laughter.) It's narrer, but 'twixt you an' me, Out o' the allies o’ J. D. A temp’ry party can be based on 't " Jes' to hold on till Johnson 's thru An' dug his Presidential grave is, An' ther! - who knows but we could
slew The country roun' to put in ? Wun't some folks rare up when we
pull Out o' their eyes our Union wool An'larn 'em wut a p’lit'cle shave is! “O, did it seem 'z ef Providunce Could ever send a second Tyler ? To see the South all back to once, Reapin' the spiles o' the Freesiler, Is cute ez though an ingineer Should claim th' old iron for his sheer Coz 't was himself that bust the biler ! ”
(Gret laughter.] Thet tells the story! Thet 's wut we
shall git By tryin' squirtguns on the burnin'
Pit; For the day never comes when it 'l
du To kick off Dooty like a worn-out shoe. I seem to hear a whisperin' in the air, A sighin' like, of unconsoled despair, Thet comes from nowhere an from
everywhere, An' seems to say, “Why died we?
war n't it, then, To settle, once for all, thet men wuz
men ? O, airth's sweet cup snetched from us
barely tasted, The grave's real chill is feelin' life wuz
wasted ! O, you we lef, long-lingerin' et the
door, Lovin' you best, coz we loved Her the
more, Thet Death, not we, had conquered,
we should feel
“Wut is there lef’ I'd like to know,
“Ef we 're to hev our ekle rights, 'T wun't du to ’low no competition ; Th' ole debt doo us for bein' whites Ain't safe onless we stop th' emission O'these noo notes, whose specie base Is human natur', 'thout no trace O'shape, nor color, nor condition.
(Continood applause.) “ So fur I'd writ an' could n' jedge Aboard wut boat I'd best take pessige, My brains all mincemeat, 'thout no
edge Upon 'em more than tu a sessige, But now it seems ez though I see Sunthin' resemblin' an idee, Sence Johnson's speech an' veto mes