The Orpheus C. Kerr Papers, Series 1

by R. H. Newell

  "Gheewhillikins! who owns these ere big trotters?"

  "Now, ye see, the she-critter was one of yer modest ones, and shewouldn't have owned up for the world, after that. Says she:

  "'I guess they ain't mine.'

  "Zeb see her game in a twinklin', and he was a tall one for a lark; sosays he:

  "'I rayther guess there's petticuts goes with them mud mashers.'

  "The gal she flamed up at that, and says she:

  "'I guess you're barkin' up the wrong saplin', Major, and yer must havea most audacious turkey on, not to know yer own butes.'

  "Sich lyin' tuk Zeb all aback for a minute; but he combed up hisbristles again, and tried her on another trail.

  "'Now, you don't mean to come for to insinuate that them ere's _my_butes, and I not know it?' says he:

  "She was in for it then, and wouldn't back down; so says she:

  "'In course I do, Major, and you'd better look out fur your ownleather.'

  "Zeb took a chaw of his terbacky, and says he:

  "'Well, if you says it's so, I'm bound to swaller the oyster; but I'llbe dod-rotted if my bute-maker won't hev to shave my last next winter.'

  "I seen right off that Zeb was up to the biggest kind of a spree, and Iknew them butes was the gist of it; cause ye see the she-crittercouldn't hull 'em in nohow, after what she'd said.

  "We went wrigglin' along for a while as still as cats in a milk-house,and the butes stayed where they was. But pretty soon Zeb began to growuneasy like, and screwed up his ugly nose, like as if he was took withthe pangs, and the doctor gone a courtin'.

  "'Gheewhillikins!' says he, at last, 'I shan't stand this here muchlonger, if there _is_ company in the parlor!'

  "We all looked at him, and says one feller:

  "'I guess, Major, you're took putty bad.'

  "Zeb gave his phizog another twist, an' says he:

  "'You'd better believe it, squire. I've got corns on them ere feet ofmine that'd make a preacher swear, and them butes pinch like alltarnation.'

  "I see right off how the smoke was blowin', and says I:

  "'Off with 'em, Zeb! We're all in the family, and won't mind you.'

  "That was all the old he-one was waitin' fur; and as quick as I saidit, he had one of that modest gal's feet in his hand, and twisted offthe bute in a twinklin'!! We all see a perfect Wenus of a foot, and agolfired ankle, and then it was jerked away quicker'n a flash, and thecritter screamed like a rantankerous tom-cat with his tail under acheese-knife!

  "'Murder!--you nasty thing,' says she, 'give me my bute.'

  "With that, me, and Zeb, and the hull bilin' of us roared right out;and says Zeb, says he, as he handed her the bute with a killin'bow--says he:

  "'Young woman, I guess I've taken your modesty, as the wimmen call it,down a peg. You sed them was _my_ butes, and in course I had a right toshed 'em; but ef they're your'n now, why keep 'em to yourself, formassy's sake!'

  "That settled the gal down some, I tell ye; and it give her such a turnthat her putty face was like a rose when we stopt at the Red Tavern."

  We were so much pleased with this story, my boy, that we entreated theopponent of mock modesty to spin us another.

  "Well, feller citizens," says he, "I don't mind if I do tell ye about

  "A JOFIRED WAGON-TRADE

  "I onct made down in Texas. You see I was doin' a right smart chance of trade down in that deestrict with clocks, fur caps, Ingin meal, and other necessaries of life; and onct in a while I went it blind on a spekullation, when there was a chance to get a bargain, and pay fifty per cent. on a stiff swindle. They was an old chap of a half breed they called Uncle Johnny, down there, and somehow he got wind of my pertikler cuteness, and he guessed he could run a pretty sharp saw on me, if he only got a sight.

  "I heerd he was after me, and thinks I 'you'll get a roastin', my boy, ef you pick up this hot-chestnut;' but I was consated beyond my powers then, and he was jist one huckleberry above my tallest persimmon. We cum together one night at Bill Crown's tavern, and the fust thing the old cuss said was:

  "'Jerewsalem crickets! I'm like a fellow jist out of a feather bed and no mistake. I tell ye that 'ere wagging uv mine rides jist about as slick as a railroad of grease, and if it warn't so allfired big, I wouldn't sell it for its weight in Orleans bank notes.'

  "I kinder thought I smelt a putty big bed-bug; but I glimpsed outer the door, and there stood the wagon under the shed, and lookin' orful temptin'. It war a big four wheel consarn, with a canvas top, and about as putty a consarn for family use as ever I sot my winkers on. Thinks I:

  "'You don't fetch me this time, hoss; for I'll be jist a neck ahead of you!'

  "So I stood a minit, and then says I:

  "'Without lookin' nor nuthin', Uncle Johnny, I'll jest give you $50 for that 'ere hearse.'

  "He kinder blinked around, and says he:

  "'I'd rather sell my grandmother; but the consarn's yourn, cunnel. Show yer hand.'

  "He was too willin' to suit me; but the game was outer cover, and I wouldn't back down. So I give him the rags, and went out to look at my bargain. Would you 'bleave it, the old varmint had jist fetched that ere wagon down to the shed, and sot it up end on, so that I didn't see how the fore-wheels wasn't thar! Fact! They had marvelled, and the fore-axles was restin' on two hitchin' stakes: Jist as I got through cussin,' I heerd a jofired larfin, and thar was the robber and his friends standin' in the door, splittin' their sides at me. Thinks I, 'I went cheap, then, my beauty; but look out for a hail-storm when the wind's up next time.' I borreyed a horse, and took that ar bargain to my shanty; and then I sot down and went to thinkin'. Fur two days I war as melancholy as a chicken in gooseberry time, tryin' to hit some plan to get even with the cuss. All to onct somethin' struck me, and I felt better. Ye see there was great talk down thar jist then, about the doctor's gig what they heard tell on, but not a one was there in the hull deestrict. I'd seen one up in York, and thinks I, 'Ef I don't make a doctor's two-wheeler outer that ere wagon, then bleed me to death with a oyster-knife!' So I jist got a big saw, and went to work quiet like, and cut that ere wagon right in two in the middle--cover and all. Then I took the shafts and fastened them onto the hind part, and rigged up a dash-board. And then I took part of the cut-off piece for a seat, and painted the hull thing with black paint; and dod-rot me if ef I didn't hev a doctor's gig as rantankerous as you please! I knew it would fetch a thunderin' price fur its novelty to any one; but I was after Uncle Johnny, and nobody else. One night I druv down to the tavern at a tearin' rate, and the fust feller I see was hisself, a standin' in the door, and sippin' kill-me-quick. He was kinder took down when he see me comin' it so piert in my new two-wheeler, and some of his friends inside axed him what was the matter. He kept as still as a mouse in a pantry until I come up, and then says he:

  "'What's that ere concern of yourn, hoss?'

  "Says I:

  "'It's one of them doctor's flyers as I'd rather ride in it than in Queen Victory's bang-up, A, No. 1, stage-coach. It's a scrouger.'

  "He kinder stuck a minute, and then says he:

  "'What'll ye take for it, hoss?'

  "I made out as though I didn't keer, and says I:

  "'It was sent to me by a cousin up in York, and I don't keer to sell; but yer may take it for $250.'

  "He turned green about the gills at that, and says he:

  "'Say $100, and I'll take it with my eyes shut.'

  "'It's yourn,' says I. 'Give us the rags.'

  "He smelt a bug that time; but it was too late; so he forked out the rale stuff, and then went to look at the two-wheeler.

  "'Thunder!' says he, blinkin' at the seat. 'I've seen that afore, or my name isn't what my father's wus!'

  "'Better 'blieve it,' says I; 'that
's your four-wheeler shaved down to the very latest York-fashion.'

  "Then he _did_ cuss; but twarn't no use. The trade was a trade, and all the boys larfed till their tongues hung out. I treated all round, and as I left 'em, says I:

  "'Uncle Johnny, when ye want to trade agin, jist pick out a grindstun that isn't too hard for yer blade.'"

  At the conclusion of this tale of real life I returned to the city, myboy; impressed with the conviction that the purpose of the sun's risingin the East is to give the New Englanders the first chance tomonopolize the supply, should daylight ever be a sailable article.

  Yours, admiringly,

  ORPHEUS C. KERR.

  LETTER XXXV.

  GIVING PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATION OF MODERN PATRIOTISM, AND CELEBRATING THEADVANCE OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE TO MANASSAS, ETC.

  WASHINGTON, D.C., March 14th, 1862.

  Patriotism, my boy, is a very beautiful thing. The surgeon of a Westernregiment has analyzed a very nice case of it, and says that it ispeculiar to this hemisphere. He says that it first breaks out in themouth, and from thence extends to the heart causing the latter toswell. He says that it goes on raging until it reaches the pocket, whenit suddenly disappears, leaving the patient very Constitutional andconservative. "Bless me!" says the surgeon, intently regarding a spoonwith a tumbler round it, "if a genuine American ever dies of patriotismit will be because the Tax Bill hasn't been applied soon enough."

  I believe him, my boy!

  On Monday morning, just as the sun was rising, like a big gold watch"put up" at some celestial Simpson's, the sentinels of Fort Corcoranwere seized with horrible tremblings at a sight calculated to makeperpendicular hair fashionable. As far as the eye could reach on everyside of the Capital, the ground was black with an approachingmultitude, each man of which wore large spectacles, and carried aserious carpet-bag and a bottle-green umbrella.

  "Be jabers!" says one of the sentinels, whose imperfect Englishfrequently causes him to be taken for the Duc de Chartres, "it's thewhole Southern Confederacy coming to boord with us."

  "Aisey, me boy," says the other sentinel, straightening the barrel ofhis musket and holding it very straight to keep the fatal ball fromrolling out, "it's the sperits of all our pravious descindants comingto ax us, was our grandmother the Saycretary of the Navy."

  Right onward came the multitude, their spectacles glistening in the sunlike so many exasperated young planets, and their umbrellas andcarpet-bags swinging like the pendulums of so many infuriated clocks.

  Pretty soon the advance guard, who was a chap in a white neck-tie and ahat resembling a stove-pipe in reduced circumstances, poked a sentinelin the ribs with his umbrella, and says he:

  "Where's Congress?"

  "Is it Congress ye want?" says the sentinel.

  "Yessir!" says the chap. "Yessir. These are friends of mine--tenthousand six hundred and forty-two free American citizens. We must seeCongress. Yessir!--dammit. How about that tax-bill? We come to protestagainst certain features _in_ that bill."

  "Murther an turf!" says the sentinel, "is it the taxes all of them ouldchaps is afther blaming?"

  "Yessir!" says the chap, hysterically jamming his hat down over hisforehead and stabbing himself madly under the arm with his umbrella."Taxes is a outrage. Not _all_ taxes," says the chap with suddenbenignity, "but the taxes which fall upon us. Why don't they tax themas is able to pay, without oppressing us ministers, editors, merchants,lawyers, grocers, peddlers, and professors of religion?" Here the chapturned very purple in the face, his eyes bulged greenly out, and sayshe: "Congress is a ass."

  "That's thrue for you," says the sentinel: "they ought to eximpt thewhole naytion and tax the rest of it."

  The multitude then swarmed into Washington, my boy, and if they don'tsmother the Tax Bill, it will be because Congress is case-hardened.

  The remainder of the Mackerel Brigade being ordered to join the ConicSection at Accomac for an irresistible advance on Manassas, I mountedmy gothic steed Pegasus on Tuesday morning.

  Pegasus, my boy, has greatly improved since I rubbed him down withSnobb's Patent Hair Invigorator, and his tail looks much less like awhisk-broom than it did at first. It is now fully able to maintainitself against all flies whatsoever. The general of the MackerelBrigade rode beside me on a spirited black frame, and says he:

  "That funereal beast of yours is a monument of the home affections.Thunder!" says the general, shedding a small tear of the color ofScheidam Schnapps, "I never look at that air horse without thinking ofthe time I buried my first baby; its head is shaped so much like asmall coffin."

  On reaching Accomac, my boy, we found Captain Villiam Brown at the headof the Conic Section of the Mackerel Brigade, dressed principally in alarge sword and brass buttons, and taking the altitude of the sun witha glass instrument operated by means of a bottle.

  "Ah!" says Villiam, "You are just in time to hear my speech to the sonsof Mars, previous to the capture of Manassas by the United States ofAmerica."

  Hereupon Villiam mounted a demijohn laid length-wise, and says he:

  "FELLOW-ANACONDAS:--Having been informed by a gentleman who has spent two weeks at Manassas, that the Southern Confederacy has gone South for its health, I have concluded that it is time to be offensive. The great Anaconda, having eluded Barnum, is about to move on the enemy's rear:

  "'Rear aloft your peaks, ye mountings, Rear aloft your waves, O sea! Rear your sparkling crests, ye fountings, For my love's come back to me.'

  "The day of inaction is past, and now the United States of America is about to swoop down like a exasperated Eagle, on the chickens left by the hawk. Are you ready, my sagacious reptiles, to spill a drop or so for your soaking country? Are you ready to rose up as one man--

  "'The rose is red, The wi'lets blue, Sugar is sweet, and Bully for you.'

  "Ages to come will look down on this day and say: 'They died young.' The Present will reply: 'I don't see it;' but the present is just the last thing for us to think about. Richmond is before us, and there let it remain. We shall take it in a few years:

  "'It may be for years and it may be for ever, Then why art thou silent, O pride of me heart.'

  "which is poickry. I hereby divide this here splendid army into one _corpse dammee_, and take command of it."

  At the conclusion of this thrilling oration, my boy, the _corpsedammee_ formed itself into a hollow square, in the centre of whichappeared a mail-clad ambulance.

  I looked at this carefully, and then says I to Villiam:

  "Tell me, my gay Achilles, what you carry in that?"

  "Ha!" says Villiam, balancing himself on one leg, "them's my Repeaters.This morning," says Villiam, sagaciously, "I discovered six Repeatersamong my men. Each of them voted six times last election day, and I'veput them where they can't be killed. Ah!" says Villiam, softly, "theDemocratic party can't afford to lose them Repeaters."

  Here a rather rusty-looking chap stepped out of the ranks, and says he:

  "Captain, I'm a Repeater too. I voted four times last election."

  "It takes six to make a reliable Repeater," says Villiam.

  "Yes," says the chap: "but I voted for different coves--twice for theRepublican candidate and twice for the Democrat."

  "Ha!" says Villiam, "you're a man of intelleck. Here, sargent," saysVilliam, imperiously, "put this cherubim into the ambulance."

  "And, sargent," says Villiam, thoughtfully, "give him the front seat."

  And now, my boy, the march for Manassas commenced, being timed by thesoft music of the band. This band, my boy, is _sui generis_. Its chiefartist is an ardent admirer of Rossini, who performs with greataccuracy upon a night-key pressed closely against the lower lip, thestrains being much like those emitted by a cart-wheel in want ofgrease. Then comes a gifted musican from Germany, whose instrument is afine-tooth comb wrapped in paper, and blown upon t
hrough its vibratorycovering. The remainder of the band is composed chiefly of drums,though the second-base achieves some fine effects with a superannuatedaccordeon.

  Onward moved the magnificent pageant toward the plains of Manassas, theAnatomical Cavalry being in advance, and the Mackerel Brigade followingclosely after.

  Arriving on the noted battle-field, we found nothing but a scene ofdesolation; the rebels gone; the masked batteries gone; and nothingleft but a solitary daughter of the sunny South, who cursed us forinvading the peaceful homes of Virginia, and then tried to sell usstale milk at six shillings a quart.