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 get 'fore long
A nation all one piece, rich, peacefle, strong;
Make 'em Amerikin, an' they'll begin
To love their country ez they loved their sin;
Let 'em stay Southun, an' you 've kep' a sore
Ready to fester ez it done afore.
No mortle man can boast of perfic vision,
But the one moleblin' thing is Indecision,
An' th' ain't no futur' for the man nor state
Thet out of j-u-s-t can't spell great.
Some foiks 'ould call thet reddikle; do you?
'Twas commonsense afore the war wuz thru ;
Thet loaded all our guns an' made 'em speak
So's't Europe heared 'em clearn acrost the creek;
"They're drivin' o' their spiles down now," sez she,
"To the hard grennit o' God's fust idee;
Ef they reach thet, Democ'cy needn't fear
The tallest airthquakes we can git up here."
Some call't insultin' to ask ary pledge,
An' say 'twill only set their teeth on edge,
But folks you've jest licked, fur'z I ever see,
Are 'bout ez mad'z they wal know how to be;
It's better than the Rebs themselves expected
'Fore they see Uncle Sam wilt down henpected;
Be kind'z you please, but fustly make things fast,
For plain Truth's all the kindness thet 'll last;
Ef treason is a crime, ez some folks say,
How could we punish it a milder way
Than sayin' to 'em, "Brethren, lookee here,
We'll jes' divide things with ye, sheer an' sheer,
An sence both come o' pooty strongbacked daddies,
You take the Darkies, ez we've took the Paddies;
Ign'ant an' poor we took 'em by the hand,
An' they're the bones an' sinners o' the land."
I ain't o' them thet fancy there's a loss on
Every inves'ment thet don't start from Bos'on;
But I know this: our money's safest trusted
In sunthin', come wut will, thet cant't be busted,
An' thet's the old Amerikin idee,
To make a man a Man an' let him be.
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 neighbours tell her he's a cross-grained 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; "He stoned my son,"
Another edds. "O, wal, 'twuz jest his fun."
"He tried to shoot our Uncle Samwell dead."
""Twuz 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, ]
The Pres'dunt he thinks thet the slickest plan
'Ould be t'allow thet he's our on'y man,
An' thet we fit thru all thet dreffle war
Jes' for his private glory an' eclor;
'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' fleas?" Wal, I expec' the People wouldn't 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 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;
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 exes
Is t'hev him come an' pay my ennooal texes.
Was't he thet shou'dered all them million guns?
Did he lose all the fathers, brothers, sons?
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 that 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 hevn't kep' 'em?
Warn'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
'Twould need Leviathan's whole skin to settle;
I thought 'twould take about a generation
'Fore we could wal begin to be a nation,
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 wood;
For th' ain't no chance o' healin' while they think
Thet law an' gov'ment's only printer's ink;
I mus' confess I thank him for discoverin'
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.]
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 ous, 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 warn'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,
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 cut
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.
Ez for dependin' on their oaths an thet,
'T wun't bind em' mor'n the ribbin roun' my het;
I heard a fable once from Othniel Starns,
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 ze 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 warn'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 didn' seem to set much by the deacon,
Nor preachin' didn' 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 gave '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' sheep, 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 'em 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 all bearin'.
"Be gin'rous for yourselves, where you're to pay,
Thet's the best prectice," sez a shepherd gray;
"Ez for their oaths they wun't be wuth a button,
Long 'z you don't cure 'em o' their taste for mutton;
Th' ain't but one solid way, howe'er you puzzle:
Tell they're convarted, let 'em wear a muzzle."
[Cries of "Bully for you!
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 endorser,
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.
Fus'ly the Hon'ble B. O. 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 'twould right-side-up his pan
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 Secesh;
You might, las' spring, hev eas'ly 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-fastened tu."
"These four years past it hez been tough
To say which side a feller went for;
Guideposts all gone, roads muddy 'n' rough,
An' nothin' doin' wut 'twuz 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 warn't no use a-tryin' to stop her,-
War's emptin's riled her very dough
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