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, 'twus so resky ary way,
I didn't hardly darst to say
I'greed with Paley's Evidences.
"Ask Mac ef tryin' to set the fence
Warn't like bein' rid upon a rail on't,
Headin' your party with a sense
O' bein' tipjint in the tail on't,
And tryin' to think thet, on the whole,
You kin' o' quasi your own soul
When Belmont's gut a bill o' sale on't?
[Three cheers for Grant and Sherman.]
"Come peace, I sposed thet folks 'ould 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
In this 'ere job o' reconstructin';
Folks dunno skurce which way to go,
Where th' ain't some boghole to be ducked in ;
But one thing 's clear; there is a crack,
Ef we pry hard, 'twixt white and black,
Where the old makebate can be tucked 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 natʼral white,
I hold one on 'em good 'z another.
"Wut is there lef' I'd like to know,
Ef't ain't the difference o' colour,
To keep up self-respec' an' show
The human natur' of a fullah?
Wut good in bein' white, onless
It's fixed by law, nut lef' to guess,
That we are smarter an' they duller?
'Ef we're to hev our ekle rights,
'T wun't du to 'low no competition;
Th' ole debt doo us for bein' whites
Aint't safe onless we stop th' emission
O' these noo notes, whose specie base
Is human natur', 'thout no trace
O' shape, nor colour, nor condition.
"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 message.
"I like the speech best, I confess,
The logic, preudence, an' good taste on 't,
An' it's so mad, I ruther guess
There's some dependence to be placed on 't ;
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' then!-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 Providence
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 'll 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
Ef she upon our memory turned her heel,
An' unregretful throwed us all away
To flaunt it in a Blind Man's Holiday!"
My frien's, I've talked nigh on to long enough.
I hain't no call to bore ye coz ye 're tough;
My lungs are sound, an' our own v'ice delights
Our ears, but even kebbige-heads hez rights.
It's the las' time thet I shell e'er address ye,
But you'll soon fin' some new tormentor: bless ye!
[Tumult'ous applause and cries of "Go on !" "Don't stop!"}
THE UNHAPPY LOT OF MR. KNOTT.
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