Chapter 11
"Come rest in this bosom, my own little dear, The Honourable R. M. T. Hunter is here; I know not, I care not, if jilt's in that heart, I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art."
And now the question arises, is Morrill's tariff really a benefit to the country? Gentlemen, it would be unbecoming in me to answer this question, and you would be incapable of understanding what I might say on the subject. The present is no time to think about tariffs: our glorious country is in danger, and there is a tax of three per cent on all incomes over eight hundred dollars. Let each man ask himself in Dutch: "Am I prepared to shoulder my musket if I am drafted, or to procure a reprobate to take my place?" In other words:
"The minstrel returned from the war, With insects at large in his hair, And having a tuneful catarrh, He sung through his nose to his fair."
Therefore, it is simply useless to talk reason to those traitors, who forget the words of Jackson--words, let me add, which I myself do not remember. Animated by an unholy l.u.s.t for a.r.s.enals, rifled cannon, and mints, and driven to desperation by the thought that Everett is preparing a new Oration on Was.h.i.+ngton, and Morris a new song on a young woman living up the Hudson River, they are overturning the altars of their country and issuing treasury bonds, which cannot be justly called objects of interest. What words can express the horrors of such unnatural crime?
"Oft in the chilly night, When slumber's chains have bound me, Soft Mary brings a light, And puts a shawl around me."
Such, fellow-citizens, is the condition of our unhappy country at present, and as soon as it gets any better I will let you know. An Indian once asked a white man for a drink of whisky. "No!" said the man, "you red skins are just ignorant enough to ruin yourselves with liquor." The sachem looked calmly into the eyes of the insulter, as he retorted: "You say I am ignorant. How can that be when I am a well-red man?"
And so it is, fellow-citizens, with this Union at present, though I am not able to show exactly where the parallel is. Therefore,
"Let us then be up and wooing, With a heart for any mate, Still proposing, still pursuing, Learn to court her, and to wait."
At the conclusion of this una.s.suming speech, my boy, I was waited upon by a young man, who asked me if I did not want to purchase some poetry; he had several yards to sell, and warranted it to wash.
Yours, particularly,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XV.
WHEREIN WILL BE FOUND THE PARTICULARS OF A VISIT TO A SUSPECTED NEWSPAPER OFFICE, AND SO ON.
WAs.h.i.+NGTON, D.C., October 2d, 1861.
This is a time, my boy, when it is the duty of every American citizen to make himself into a committee of safety, for the good of the republic, and make traitors smell the particular thunder of national vengeance. The eagle, my boy, has spread his sanguinary wings for a descent upon the bantams of secession; and if we permit his sublime pinions to be burthened with the shackles of domestic sedition, we are guilty of that which we do, and are otherwise liable to the charge of committing that which we perform. These thoughts came to me yesterday, after I had taken the Oath six times, and so overpowered me that I again took the Oath, with a straw in it. Just then it struck me that the _Daily Union_, published near Alexandria, ought to be suppressed for its treason; and I immediately started for the office, with an intention to offer personal violence to the editor. I found him examining a cigar through the bottom of a tumbler, whilst on the desk beside him lay the first "proof" of
THE EDITOR'S WOOING.
We love thee, Ann Maria Smith, And in thy condescension, We see a future full of joys Too numerous to mention.
There's Cupid's arrow in thy glance, That by thy love's coercion Has reached our melting heart of hearts, And asked for one insertion.
With joy we feel the blissful smart, And ere our pa.s.sion ranges, We
There's music in thy lowest tone, And silver in thy laughter; And truth--but we will give the full Particulars hereafter.
Oh! we could tell thee of our plans All obstacles to scatter; But we are full just now, and have A press of other matter.
Then let us marry, Queen of Smiths, Without more hesitation; The very thought doth give our blood A larger circulation!
When the editor noticed my presence, he scowled so that his spectacles dropped off.
"Ha, my fine little fellow," says he, hastily; "I don't want to buy any poetry to-day."
"Don't fret yourself, my venerable cherub," says I; "I don't deal in poetry at present. I just came here to tell you that if you don't stop writing treason, I'll suppress you in the name of the United States."
"You're a mudsill mob," says he; "and I don't allow no violent mobs around this office. I am an American citizen, and I won't stand no mobs. What does the Const.i.tution say about newspapers? Why, the Const.i.tution don't say anything about them; so you've got no Const.i.tutional authority for mobbing me."
"Then take the Oath," says I.
He looked at me for a moment, and then pa.s.sed me a small black bottle.
I held it up over my eyes for some time, to see if it was perfectly straight, and he remarked that if all Northerners took the Oath as freely as I did, they must be a water-proof conglomeration of patriots.
I believe him, my boy!
The Mackerel Brigade has established a cookery department for itself, and is using a stove recently patented by the colonel of Regiment 5.
This stove is a miraculous invention, and has already made fortunes for six cooks and a scullion. You put a s.h.i.+lling's worth of wood into it, which first cooks your meat and then turns into two s.h.i.+lling's worth of charcoal; so you make a s.h.i.+lling every time you kindle a fire.
Yesterday, a gentleman, brought up to the oyster-trade, and who has made several voyages on the Brooklyn ferry-boats, exhibited the model of a new gun-boat to the Secretary of the Navy. He said its great advantage was that it could easily be taken to pieces; and the Secretary was just going to order seventy-five for use in Central Park, when it leaked out that when once the gun-boat was taken to pieces there was no way of putting it together again. Only for this, my boy, we might have a gun-boat in every cistern.
Yours, nautically,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XVI.
INTRODUCING THE GOTHIC STEED, PEGASUS, AND THE REMARKABLE GERMAN CAVALRY FROM THE WEST.
WAs.h.i.+NGTON, D.C., October 6th, 1861.
The horse, my boy, is an animal in which I have taken a deep interest ever since the day on the Union Course, when I bet ten dollars that the "Pride of the Ca.n.a.l" would beat "Lady Clamcart," and was compelled to leave my watch with Mr. Simpson on the following morning. The horse, my boy, is the swarthy Arab's bosom friend, the red Indian's solitary companion, and the circus proprietor's salvation. One of these n.o.ble animals was presented to me last week, by an old-maid relative whose age I once guessed to be "about nineteen." The glorious gift was accompanied by a touching letter, my boy; she honored my patriotism, and the self-sacrificing spirit that had led me to join the gallant Mackerel Brigade, and get a furlough as soon as a rebel picket appeared; she loved me for my mother's sake, and as she happened to have ten s.h.i.+llings about her, she thought she would buy a horse with it for me. Mine, affectionately, Tabitha Turnips.
Ah, woman! glorious woman! what should we do without thee? All our patriotism is but the inspiration of thy proud love, and all our money is but the few s.h.i.+llings left after thou hast got through buying new bonnets. Oh! woman--thoughtful woman! the soldier thanks thee for sending him pies and cakes that turn sour before they leave New York; but, for heaven's sake don't send any more havelocks, or there'll be a crisis in the linen market. It's a common thing for a sentry to report "eighty thousand more havelocks from the women of America;" and then you ought to hear the Brigadier of the Mackerel Brigade cuss!
"Jerusalem!" says he, "if any more havelocks come this afternoon, tell them that I've gone out and won't be back for three weeks. Thunder!"
says he, "there's enough havelocks in this here deadly tented field to open a brisk trade with Europe, and if the women of America keep on sending them, I'm d--d if I don't start a night-cap shop." The general is a profane patriarch, my boy, and takes the Oath hot. The Oath, my boy, is improved by nutmeg and a spoon.
But to return to the horse which woman's generosity has made me own--me be-yuteous steed. The beast, my boy, is fourteen hands high, fourteen hands long, and his sagacious head is shaped like an old-fas.h.i.+oned pick-axe. Viewed from the rear, his style of architecture is gothic, and he has a gable-end, to which his tail is attached. His eyes, my boy, are two pearls, set in mahogany, and before he lost his sight, they were said to be brilliant. I rode down to the Patent Office, the other day, and left him leaning against a post, while I went inside to transact some business. Pretty soon the Commissioner of Patents came tearing in like mad, and says he:
"I'd like to know whether this is a public building belonging to the United States, or a second-hand auction-shop."
"What mean you, sirrah?" I asked majestically.
"I mean," says he, "that some enemy to his country has gone and stood an old mahogany umbrella-stand right in front of this office."
To the disgrace of his species be it said, my boy, he referred to the spirited and fiery animal for which I am indebted to woman's generosity. I admit that when seen at a distance, the steed somewhat resembles an umbrella-stand; but a single look into his pearly eyes is enough to prove his relations with the animal kingdom.
I have named him Pegasus, in honor of Tupper, and when I mount him, Villiam Brown, of Company 3, Regiment 5, Mackerel Brigade, says that I remind him of Santa Claus sitting astride the roof of a small gothic cottage, holding on by the chimney. Villiam is becoming rather too familiar, my boy, and I hope he'll be shot at an early day.
Yesterday the army here was reenforced with a regiment of fat German cavalry from the West, under the command of Colonel Wobert Wobinson, who has had great experience in keeping a livery-stable. Their animals are well calculated to turn the point of a sword, and are of the high-backed fluted pattern, very glossy at the joints. I saw one of the dragoons cracking nuts on the backbone of the Arabian he rode, and asked him about how much such an animal was worth without the fur? He considered for a moment and then remarked that nix fustay and dampfnoodle, though many believed that swei gla.s.s und sweitzerkase; but upon the whole, it was nix c.u.marouse and apple-dumplings, notwithstanding the fact that yawpy, yawpy, betterish. Singular to relate, my boy, I had arrived at the very same conclusion before I asked him the question.