by R. H. Newell
These being very hard times, my boy, and the Executive not beinginclined to be too expensive in its marketing, a most ingeniousexpedient was adopted to make it appear that there was just twice asmuch of certain costly delicacies on the table as there really was.About the centre of the table lay a large mirror, and on this wereplaced a few expensive dishes. Of course, the looking-glass gave them adouble effect. For instance, if there was a pound of beefsteak on theplate, it produced another pound in the glass, and the effect was twopounds.
When economy can be thus artistically blended with plentitude, my boy,money ceases to be king, and butcher-bills dwindle. Hereafter, when Ireceive for my rations a pint of transparent coffee and two granitebiscuit, I shall use a looking-glass for a plate.
It was the very which-ing hour of the night when the general and myselfleft the glittering scene, and we had to ask several patrols "which"way to go.
On parting with my comrade-in-arms, says I:
"General, the ball is a success."
He looked at me in three winks, and says he:
"It _was_ a success--particularly the bowl of punch!"
Yours, for soda-water,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XXXI.
TREATING OF THE GREAT MILITARY ANACONDA, AND THE MODERN XANTIPPE.
WASHINGTON, D.C., February 16th, 1862.
There is still much lingual gymnastics, my boy, concerning the recent_fete_ sham-pate at the White House; but Colonel Wobert Wobinson, ofthe Western Cavalry, has extinguished the grumblers by proving that theentertainment was strictly Constitutional. He profoundly observes, myboy, that it comes under the head of that clause of the Constitutionwhich secures to the people of America the "pursuit of happiness;" and,as he justly remarks, if you stop the "pursuit of happiness," where'sthe Instrument of our Liberties?
It pleases me greatly to announce, my boy, that the General of theMackerel Brigade believes in McClellan, and gorgeously defends himagainst the attacks of that portion of the depraved press which hasfriends dying of old age in the Army of the Potomac.
"Thunder!" says he to Captain Bob Shorty, stirring the Oath in histumbler with a tooth-brush--"the way Little Mac is devoting himself tothe military squelching of this here unnatural rebellion, is actuallyoutraging his physical nature. He reviews his staff twice a day, goesover the river every five minutes, studies international law six hoursbefore dinner, takes soundings of the mud every time the dew falls, andtakes so little sleep, that there's two inches of dust on one of hiseye-balls. Would you believe it," says the General, placing the tumblerover his nose to keep off a fly, "his devotion is such that his hair isturning gray and will probably dye!"
Captain Bob Shorty whistled. I do not mean to say that he intended tobe musically satirical, my boy; but if I should hear such a canary-birdremark after _I'd_ told a story, somebody would go home with his eyesdone up in rainbows.
"Permit _me_," says Captain Bob Shorty, hurling what remained of theOath into the aperture under his moustache. "You convince me thatLittle Mac's devotion is extraordinary," continued Captain Bob Shorty,dreamily; "but he don't come up to a chap I once knew, which was aeditor. Talk about devotion! and outraging nature!" says Captain BobShorty, spitting with exquisite accuracy into the eyes of theregimental cat, "why, that ere editor threw body, soul, and breechesinto his work; and so completely identified himself with a free andenlightened press, that his first child was a _newsboy_."
The General of the Mackerel Brigade arose from his seat, my boy, woundup his watch, brushed off his boots, threw the cat out of the window,and then says he:
"Robert, name of Shorty, did you ever read in the Bible about Ananias,who was struck dead for telling a telegraph?"
"I heard about him," says Captain Bob Shorty, "when I was but ainnocent lamb, and wore my mother's slipper on my back about as oftenas she wore it on her foot."
"Well," says the general, with the air of a thoughtful parent, "it's myopinion that if you'd been Ananias, the same streak of lightning wouldhave buried you and paid the sexton."
From this logical and vivid conversation, my boy, you will understandthat our leading military men have perfect faith in the genius ofMcClellan, and believe that he is equal to fifty yards of theStar-Spangled Banner. His great anaconda has gathered itself in acircle around the doomed rabbit of rebellion, and if the rabbit swellshe's a goner.
This great anaconda, my boy, may remind hellish readers of the anacondaonce seen by a chap of my acquaintance living in the Sixth Ward. Thischap, my boy, came tearing into a place where they kept the Oath ontap, and says he:
"I've just seen an anaconda down Broadway."
"Anna who?" says a red-nosed Alderman, dipping his finger into thewater on the stove to see if it was warm enough to melt somebrandy-refined sugar.
"I said Anaconda, you ignorant cuss," says the chap.
"Was it the real insect?" says the Alderman.
"It was a real, original, genuine Anaconda," says the chap.
"Ah!" says the Alderman, "somebody's been stuffin' you."
"No, sir!" says the chap, "but somebody's been stuffin' the Anaconda,though."
He'd been to the Museum.
If there should be among your unfortunate readers, my boy, any personsof such depraved minds as to perceive a likeness between this Anacondaand that Anaconda, may they be sent to Fort Lafayette, and compelled toread Tupper's poems until the rabbit of rebellion is reduced to hislast quarter!
Early this morning a couple of snuff-colored pickets brought a femaleSouthern Confederacy into camp, stating that she had called them nastythings and spit all over their guns. She said that she wanted to seethe loathsome creature that commanded them, and her eyes flashed sowhen they took her by the arm, that her vail took fire twice, and hereyebrows smoked repeatedly.
The General of the Mackerel Brigade received her courteously, onlypoking her in the ribs to see if she had any Armstrong guns concealedabout her. Says he:
"Have I the honor of addressing the wife of the Southern Confederacy?"
The female confederacy drew herself up as proudly as the First Familyof Virginia when the butcher's bill comes to be paid, and replied, insoprano of great compass:--
"I am that injured woman, you ugly swine."
The General bowed until his lips touched a pewter mug on the table, andthen says he:
"My dear madam, your words touch a tender chord in my heart, and itwill give me pleasure to serve you. Your words, madam," continued thegeneral, with visible emotion, "are precisely those which my belovedwife not unfrequently addresses to me. Ah! my wife! my wifey!" says thegeneral, hysterically, "how often have you patted me on my head, andtold me that my face looked like a chunk of beeswax with three cracksin it."
The wife of the Southern Confederacy sneered audibly, and called for afan. There being no fan nearer than the office of Secretary Welles, sheused a small whisk-broom. Says she:
"Miserable hireling of a diabolical Lincoln, your wife is nothing tome. She is a creature! I do not come here to hear her wrongs, but toexpress the undying wish that you and all your horde may be welcomedwith muddy hands to hospitable graves. All I want is to be let alone."
"My dear Mrs. S. C.," says the general, with a touch of brass andirony, "it is a matter of the utmost indifference to me whether you are'to be let alone,' or with the next house and lot."
"I insist upon being let alone," screamed the female Confederacy,spitting angrily.
"I am not touching you," says the general.
"All I want is to be let alone," shrieked the exasperated lady; "and I_will_ be let alone!"
The General of the Mackerel Brigade hastily wiped his mouth with abottle, and then says he:
"Madam, if sandwiches are not plenty where you come from, it ain't forthe want of tongue."
On hearing this gastronomic remark, my boy, the injured wife of theSouthern Confederacy swept from the room like an insulted Minerva, anddeparted for Secessia. It was observed that she frowned like athunder-cloud
at every Federal she passed, excepting one picket. Himshe smiled on. She had detected him in the act of admiring her anklesas she picked her way through the mud.
Woman, my boy, has really many sweet qualities; and if her head issometimes in the wrong, she has always a reserve of genuine goodness ofheart in the neighborhood of her gaiters.
Yours, for the Sex,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XXXII.
COMMENCING WITH A BURST OF EXULTATION OVER NATIONAL VICTORIES,REFERRING TO A SENATORIAL MISTAKE, DEPICTING A WELL-KNOWN CHARACTER,AND REPORTING THE RECONNOISSANCE OF THE WESTERN CENTAURS.
WASHINGTON, D.C., February 21st, 1862.
Now swells Columbia's bosom with a pride, that sets her eyes ablazewith living fire; and, with her arms upreaching to the skies, she drawsin air new crowns with stars adorned, to ring the temples of herconquering chiefs. Far in the West, she sees the livid sparks struck byAchilles from the hostile sword, and in the South beholds how Ajax bolddefies the lightning of the rebel guns. Then clasping to her breast theflag we love, and donning swift Minerva's gleaming helm, she standswhere Morn's first glories kiss the hills, and breathes the paean of afame redeemed!
Three cheers for the chaps who pocketed Fort Donelson & Co., my boy,and may the rebels never have an easier boat to row than Roanoke. Theother day I was talking with a New England Senator about the taking ofthe fort, and says I:
"It was a gay victory, my learned Theban; but it makes me mad when Ithink how that slippery rascal, Floyd, found an egress down the river."
The Senator pulled up his collar, my boy, observed to thetumbler-sergeant that he would take the same with a little more sugarin it, and then says he:
"In that observation you sum up the whole cause of this unnaturalstrife. It is, indeed, the negro, whose wrongs are now being revengedupon us by an inscrutable Whig Providence; and if the Government doesnot speedily strike the fetters from the slave, that slave may yet beused to fight horribly against us. I shall cite the significant factyou mention in my next exciting speech."
I opened my eyes at this outburst until they looked like the bottoms oftwo quart bottles beaming in the sunshine, and then says I:
"You talk as fluently as a Patent Office Report, my worthy Nestor; butI don't exactly perceive what my remark has to do with the colorednegro."
"Why," says he, "didn't you say that the traitor Floyd found _anegress_ down the river?"
For an instant, my boy, I felt very dizzy, and was obliged to lean myhead against a tumbler for a moment.
"Your ears, my friend," says I, "are certainly long enough to hearcorrectly what is said to you; but this time you've made a slightmistake. I said that Floyd had found _an egress_ down the river."
The Senator looked at me for a moment, and says he:
"Sold by a soldier! Good morning."
I wonder how those nice, pleasant, gentlemanly chaps down in SouthCarolina enjoy Uncle Samuel's latest hit? I can fancy their damagingeffects, my boy, upon the constitution of
THE SOUTH CAROLINA GENTLEMAN.
Down in the small Palmetto State, the curious ones may find A ripping, tearing gentleman, of an uncommon kind-- A staggering, swaggering sort of chap, who takes his whiskey straight, And frequently condemns his eyes to that ultimate vengeance which a clergyman of high standing has assured us must be the sinner's fate; A South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
You trace his genealogy, and not far back you'll see A most undoubted octoroon, or mayhap a mustee; And if you note the shaggy locks that cluster on his brow, You'll find that every other hair is varied with a kink, that seldom denotes pure Caucasian blood; but, on the contrary, betrays an admixture with a race not particularly popular now-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
He always wears a full-dress coat--pre-Adamite in cut-- With waistcoat of the loudest style, through which his ruffles jut. Six breastpins deck his horrid front: and on his fingers shine Whole invoices of diamond rings, which would hardly pass muster with the Original Jacobs in Chatham street, for jewels gen-u-ine-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
He chews tobacco by the pound, and spits upon the floor, If there is not a box of sand behind the nearest door; And when he takes his weekly spree, he clears a mighty track Of everything that bears the shape of whisky-skin, gin-and-sugar, brandy-sour, peach-and-honey, irrepressible cocktail, rum-and-gum, and luscious apple-jack-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
He looks on grammar as a thing beneath the notice quite Of any Southern gentleman whose grandfather was white; And as for education--why, he'll plainly set it forth, That such d--d nonsense never troubles the heads of the Chivalry; though it may be sufficiently degrading to merit the personal attention of the poor wretches unfortunate enough to make their living at the North-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
He licks his niggers daily, like a true American; And "takes the devil out of them" by this sagacious plan. He tries his bowie knives upon the fattest he can find; And if the darkey winces, why--he is immediately arrested at the instance of the First Families in the neighborhood, on a charge of conversing with a fiendish abolitionist, and conspiring to poison all the wells in the State with strychnine, and arm the slaves of the adjoining plantations with knives and pistols; for all of which he is very properly sentenced to five hundred lashes--after which to prison he's consigned (by) This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
If for amusement he's inclined, he coolly looks about For a parson of the Methodists, or some poor peddler lout; And having found him, has him hung from some majestic tree-- Then calls his numerous family to enjoy with him the instructive and entertaining spectacle of a "suspected abolitionist" receiving his just reward at the hands of an incensed com-mu-ni-ty-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
He takes to euchre kindly, too, and plays an awful hand, Especially when those he tricks his style don't understand; And if he wins, why then he stoops to pocket all the stakes; But if he loses, then he says unto the unfortunate stranger, who has chanced to win: "It's my opinion that you are a cursed abolitionist; and if you don't leave South Carolina in one hour, you will be hung like a dog." But no offer to pay his loss he makes-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
Of course he's all the time in debt to those who credit give-- Yet manages upon the best the market yields to live; But if a Northern creditor asks him his bill to heed, This honorable gentleman instantly draws two bowie-knives and a pistol, dons a blue cockade, and declares, that in consequence of the repeated aggressions of the North, and its gross violations of the Constitution, he feels that it would utterly degrade him to pay any debt whatever; and that, in fact, he has at last determined to SECEDE!-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
And when, at length, to Charleston of the other world he goes, He leaves his children mortgages, with all their other woes. As slowly fades the vital spark, he doubles up his fists, And softly murmurs through his teeth: "I die under a full conviction of my errors in life, and freely forgive all men; but still I only hope that somewhere on the other side of Jordan I may just come across some ab-o-li-tion-ists!!"-- This South Carolina gentleman, One of the present time.
Yesterday afternoon, my boy, Colonel Wobert Wobinson, of the WesternCentaurs, ordered Captain Samyule Sa-m
ith to make a reconnoissancetoward Flint Hill with a company of skeleton cavalry, having learnedthat several bushels of oats were stored there.
Samyule drew up his company in line against a fence, and then says he:
"Comrades, we go upon a mission that is highly dangurious, and Americaexpects every hoss to do his duty. If we meet the rebels," continuedSamyule, impressively, "they will try hard to capture some of ourhosses; for they're badly off for gridirons down there, and three orfour of our spirited animals would supply them for the season. If anyof you see them coming after the hardware, just put your gridirons on agallop and fall back."
At the conclusion of this speech, Private Peter Jenkins observed thathe'd been falling back ever since he got his horse; for which he wassentenced to laugh at all the colonel's jokes for a week.
Would that I possessed the fiery pen of bully Homer, to describe thegallant advance of that splendid _corps_, as it trotted fiercely on tovictory or death. At its head was Captain Samyule Sa-mith, mounted on ahorse of some degree of merit, his coat-tails flapping behind him likebanners at half-mast, and his form bouncing about in the saddle like aninspired jumping-jack. There was Lieutenant Tummis Kagcht, recently ofthe German navy, riding an animal with prows as sharp as a yacht andthat was broadside to the road at least half the time. There wasprivate Peter Jenkins, seated directly over the tail of ayellow-enameled charger, that walked at right-angles with the fences,and never stopped to take breath until it had gone three yards.