seein' wuz innercent,

Green ones is plentifle anough, skurce wuth a nigger's getherin', But your dead-ripe ones ranges high fer treatin' Nothun bretherin; A spotteder, ringstreakeder child the' warn't in Uncle Sam's

Holl farm, - a cross of striped pig an'

one o' Jacob's lambs;

'T wuz Dannil in the lions' den, new an' enlarged edition,

An' everythin' fust-rate o' 'ts kind; the'

warn't no impersition. People 's impulsiver down here than wut our folks to home be,

An' kin' o' go it 'ith a resh in raisin' Hail Columby:

Thet's so an' they swarmed out like bees, for your real Southun men's Time is n't o' much more account than an ole settin' hen's;

(They jest work semioccashnally, or else don't work at all,

An' so their time an' 'tention both air at

But this wuz all prelim'nary; it 's so Gran' Jurors here

Fin' a true bill, a hendier way than ourn, an' nut so dear;

So arter this they sentenced me, to make all tight 'n' snug,

Afore a reg'lar court o' law, to ten years in the Jug.

I did n't make no gret defence: you don't feel much like speakin', When, ef you let your clamshells gape, a quart o' tar will leak in :

I hev hearn tell o' winged words, but pint o' fact it tethers

The spoutin' gift to hev your words tu

thick sot on with feathers,

An' Choate ner Webster would n't ha' made an A 1 kin' o' speech Astride a Southun chestnut horse sharper 'n a baby's screech.

They jest uncorked an' le' me run, an' in my stid the sinner sent To see how he liked pork 'n' pone flavored with wa'nut saplin',

An' nary social priv'ledge but a one-hoss, starn-wheel chaplin.

When I come out, the folks behaved mos' gen'manly an' harnsome; They 'lowed it would n't be more 'n right, ef I should cuss 'n' darn

some:

The Cunnle he apolergized; suz he, "I'll du wut 's right,

I'll give ye settisfection now by shootin' ye at sight,

An' give the nigger (when he 's caught), to pay him fer his trickin' In gittin' the wrong man took up, a most H fired lickin',

It's jest the way with all on 'em, the inconsistent critters,

They 're most enough to make a man blaspheme his mornin' bitters; I'll be your frien' thru thick an' thin an' in all kines o' weathers, An' all you ll hev to pay fer 's jest the waste o' tar an' feathers:

A lady owned the bed, ye see, a widder,

tu, Miss Shennon;

It wuz her mite; we would ha' took another, ef ther'd ben one:

We don't make no charge for the ride an' all the other fixins.

Le''s liquor; Gin'ral, you can chalk our friend for all the mixins."

A

meetin' then wuz called, where they "RESOLVED, Thet we respec' B. S. Esquire for quallerties o' heart an’ intellec'

Peculiar to Columby's sile, an' not to no one else's,

Thet makes Európean tyrans scringe in
all their gilded pel'ces,
An' doos gret honor to our race an'
Southun institootions":

(I give ye jest the substance o' the leadin' resolootions :)

"RESOLVED, Thet we revere in him a soger 'thout a flor,

A martyr to the princerples o' libbaty an' lor:

RESOLVED, Thet other nations all, ef sot 'longside o' us,

For vartoo, larnin', chivverlry, ain't noways wuth a cuss.'

I'xpect in cairin' of it roun' they took a leaky hat;

Though Southun genelmun ain't slow at puttin' down their name, (When they can write,) fer in the eend it comes to jes' the same, Because, ye see, 't 's the fashion here to sign an' not to think

A critter 'd be so sordid ez to ax 'em for the chink:

I did n't call but jest on one, an' he drawed toothpick on me,

An' reckoned he warn't goin' to stan' no sech doggauned econ'my;

So nothin' more wuz realized, 'ceptin' the good-will shown,

Than ef 't had ben from fust to last a reg'lar Cotton Loan.

It's a good way, though, come to think,

coz ye enjy the sense

O' lendin' lib'rally to the Lord, an' nary red o' 'xpense:

Sence then I've gut my name up for a

gin'rous-hearted man

By jes' subscribin' right an' left on this high-minded plan ;

I've gin away my thousans so to every Southun sort

O' missions, colleges, an' sech, ner ain't no poorer for 't.

I warn't so bad off, arter all; I need n't hardly mention

That Guv'ment owed me quite a pile for my arrears o' pension,

-

I mean the poor, weak thing we hed: we

run a new one now,

Thet strings a feller with a claim up ta the nighes' bough,

An' prectises the rights o' man, purtects down-trodden debtors, Ner wun't hev creditors about a

scrougin' o' their betters: Jeff's gut the last idees ther' is, poscrip', fourteenth edition, He knows it takes some enterprise to

run an oppersition; Ourn's the fust thru-by-daylight train, with all ou'doors for deepot; Yourn goes so slow you'd think 't wuz

drawed by a las' cent'ry teapot; Wal, I gut all on 't paid in gold afore

our State seceded,

An' done wal, for Confed'rit bonds warn't jest the cheese I needed:

then it's hard a-breakin' on 'em, An' ignorant folks is ollers sot an' wun't

git used to takin' on 'em ; They're wuth ez much ez wut they wuz afore ole Mem'nger signed 'em, An' go off middlin' wal for drinks, when ther's 's a knife behind 'em ; We du miss silver, jes' fer thet an' ridin' in a bus,

Now we've shook off the desputs thet wuz suckin' at our pus; An' it's because the South 's so rich; 't wuz nat'ral to expec'

Supplies o'change wuz jes' the things we should n't recollec';

We'd ough' to ha' thought aforehan', though, o' thet good rule o' Crockett's,

For 't 's tiresome cairin' cotton-bales an' niggers in your pockets,

Ner 't ain't quite hendy to pass off one o' your six-foot Guineas" An' git your halves an' quarters back in gals an' pickaninnies:

Wal, 't ain't quite all a feller 'd ax, but then ther's this to say,

It's on'y jest among ourselves thet we expec' to pay;

Our system would ha' caird us thru in any Bible cent'ry,

'fore this onscripterl plan come up o' books by double entry; We go the patriarkle here out o' all sight an' hearin',

For Jacob warn't a suckemstance to Jeff at financierin' ;

He

An'

never'd thought o' borryin' from Esan like all nater

then cornfiscatin' all debts to sech a small pertater;

There's p'litickle econ'my, now, combined 'ith morril beauty Thet saycrifices privit eends (your in'my's, tu) to dooty!

Wy, Jeff'd ha' gin him five an' won his eye-teeth 'fore he knowed it, An', stid o' wastin' pottage, he'd ha' eat it up an' owed it.

But I wuz goin' on to say how I come here to dwall; —

'Nough said, thet, arter lookin' roun', I liked the place so wal, Where niggers doos a double good, with us atop to stiddy 'em, By bein' proofs o' prophecy an' suckleatin' medium,

an' whiskey's cheap ez fleas, An' the financial pollercy jes' sooted my idees,

Thet friz down right where I wuz, merried the Widder Shennon, (Her thirds wuz part in cotton-land, part in the curse o' Canaan,) An' here I be ez lively ez a chipmunk on a wall,

tied her to a tree,

Thet makes my writin' seem to squirm; a Southuner 'd allow I'd Some call to shake, for I've jest hed to meller a new cowhide.

Miss S. is all 'f a lady; th' ain't no better on Big Boosy

Ner one with more accomplishmunts 'twixt here an' Tuscaloosy ; She's an F. F., the tallest kind, an'

prouder 'n the Gran' Turk, An' never hed a relative thet done a stroke o' work;

Hern ain't a scrimpin' fem'ly sech ez you git up Down East, Th' ain't a growed member on 't but owes his thousuns et the least: She is some old; but then agin ther''s

drawbacks in my sheer: Wut's left o' me ain't more 'n enough to make a Brigadier : Wust is, thet she hez tantrums; she's

like Seth Moody's gun (Him thet wuz nicknamed frum his limp Ole Dot an' Kerry One); He'd left her loaded up a spell, an' hed to git her clear, So he onhitched,

Jeerusalem! the

middle o' last year Wuz right nex' door compared to where she kicked the critter tu (Though jest where he brought up wuz wut no human never knew);

dellykit to tech,

I want thet you should grad'lly break my merriage to Jerushy,

An' there's a heap of argymunts thet's emple to indooce ye:

Fust place, State's Prison, -wal, it's true it warn't fer crime, o' course, But then it's jest the same fer her in gittin' a disvorce;

Nex' place, my State's secedin' out hez leg'lly lef" me free

To merry any one I please, pervidin' it's a she;

Fin'lly, I never wun't come back, she need n't hev no fear on 't, But then it's wal to fix things right fer fear Miss S. should hear on 't; Lastly, I've gut religion South, an' Rushy she's a pagan

Thet sets by th' graven imiges o' the gret Nothun Dagon;

(Now I hain't seen one in six munts,

for, sence our Treashry Loan, Though yaller boys is thick anough, eagles hez kind o' flown ;) An' ef J wants a stronger pint than them thet I hev stated, Wy, she's an aliun in'my now, an' I've been cornfiscated,

For sence we 've entered on th' estate o' the late nayshnul eagle,

She hain't no kin' o' right but jes' wut I allow ez legle:

Wut doos Secedin' mean, ef't ain't thet nat'rul rights hez riz, 'n' Thet wat is mine 's my own, but wut's another man's ain't his'n?

Besides, I could n't do no else; Miss S. suz she to me,

"You've sheered my bed," [thet's

when I paid my interduction fee To Southun rites,] "an' kep' your sheer," [wal, I allow it sticked So's 't I wuz most six weeks in jail afore I gut me picked,]

see the farm;

(My eldes' boy's so took up, wut with the Ringtail Rangers

An' settin' in the Jestice-Court for welcomin' o' strangers " ;)

[He sot on me ;] "an' so, ef you'll jest ondertake the care

Upon a mod'rit sellery, we'll up an' call it square;

But ef you can't conclude," suz she, an' give a kin' o' grin,

"Wy, the Gran' Jurymen, I 'xpect, 'll hev to set agin."

That's the way metters stood at fust; now wut wuz I to du,

But jes' to make the best on 't an' off coat an' buckle tu?

Ther' ain't a livin' man thet finds an

income necessarier

Than me,bimeby I'll tell ye how I fin'lly come to merry her.

She hed another motive, tu: I mention of it here

T'encourage lads thet 's growin' up to study 'n' persevere,

An' show 'em how much better 't pays to mind their winter-schoolin' Than to go off on benders 'n' sech, an'

waste their time in foolin'; Ef 't warn't for studyin' evenins, why, I

never 'd ha' ben here

An orn'ment o' saciety, in my approprut

spear:

She wanted somebody, ye see, o' taste an' cultivation,

To talk along o' preachers when they

stopt to the plantation; For folks in Dixie th't read an' rite, onless it is by jarks,

Is skurce ez wut they wuz among th' oridgenle patriarchs;

To fit a feller f' wut they call the soshle higherarchy,

All thet you 've gut to know is jes' be

yund an evrage darky; Schoolin''s wut they can't seem to stan', they're tu consarned high-pressure, An' knowin' t' much might spile a boy

for bein' a Secesher.

We hain't no settled preachin' here, ner ministeril taxes;

The min'ster's only settlement's the carpet-bag he packs his

hymbook an' his Bible, But they du preach, I swan to man, puf"kly indescrib'le!

it's

They go it like an Ericsson's ten-hospower coleric ingine,

An' make Ole Split-Foot winch an' squirm, for all he 's used to singein'; Hawkins's whetstone ain't a pinch primin' to the innards

To hearin' on 'em put free grace t' a lot o' tough old sinhards! But I must eend this letter now: 'fore long I'll send a fresh un; I 've lots o' things to write about, perticklerly Seceshun:

I'm called off now to mission-work, to let a leetle law in

To Cynthy's hide: an' so, till death,
Yourn,

BIRDOFREDUM SAWIN.

No. II.

MASON AND SLIDELL: A YANKEE IDYLL.

TO THE EDITORS OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.

JAALAM, 6th Jan., 1862. the insertion of a portion of my letter in GENTLEMEN,I was highly gratified by the last number of your valuable and entertaining Miscellany, though in a type which rendered its substance inaccessible even to the beautiful new spectacles presented to me by a Committee of the Parish on New Year's Day. I trust that I was able to bear your very considerable abridgment of my lucubrations with a spirit becoming a Christian. My third granddaughI have trained to read slowly and with ter, Rebekah,aged fourteen years, and whom lected in our modern systems of educaproper emphasis (a practice too much neg tion), read aloud to me the excellent essay upon "Old Age," the authour of which I cannot help suspecting to be a young man who has never yet known what it was to have snow (canities morosa) upon his own roof. Dissolve frigus, large super foco ligna reponens, is a rule for the young, whose lenitives. wood-pile is yet abundant for such cheerful

A good life behind him is the best thing to keep an old man's shoulders from shivering at every breath of sorrow or ill-fortune. But methinks it were easier