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LETTER FROM THE REVEREND HOMER WILBUR, M.A., ENCLOSING THE EPISTLE

James Russell Lowell

AFORESAID

 

JAALAM, 15th Nov., 1861.

 

* * * * *

 

It is not from any idle wish to obtrude my humble person with undue

prominence upon the publick view that I resume my pen upon the present

occasion. _Juniores ad labores_. But having been a main instrument in

rescuing the talent of my young parishioner from being buried in the

ground, by giving it such warrant with the world as could be derived

from a name already widely known by several printed discourses (all of

which I may be permitted without immodesty to state have been deemed

worthy of preservation in the Library of Harvard College by my esteemed

friend Mr. Sibley), it seemed becoming that I should not only testify to

the genuineness of the following production, but call attention to it,

the more as Mr. Biglow had so long been silent as to be in danger of

absolute oblivion. I insinuate no claim to any share in the authorship

(_vix ea nostra voco_) of the works already published by Mr. Biglow, but

merely take to myself the credit of having fulfilled toward them the

office of taster (_experto crede_), who, having first tried, could

afterward bear witness (_credenzen_ it was aptly named by the Germans),

an office always arduous, and sometimes even dangerous, as in the case

of those devoted persons who venture their lives in the deglutition of

patent medicines (_dolus latet in generalibus_, there is deceit in the

most of them) and thereafter are wonderfully preserved long enough to

append their signatures to testimonials in the diurnal and hebdomadal

prints. I say not this as covertly glancing at the authors of certain

manuscripts which have been submitted to my literary judgment (though an

epick in twenty-four books on the 'Taking of Jericho' might, save for

the prudent forethought of Mrs. Wilbur in secreting the same just as I

had arrived beneath the walls and was beginning a catalogue of the

various horns and their blowers, too ambitiously emulous in longanimity

of Homer's list of ships, might, I say, have rendered frustrate any hope

I could entertain _vacare Musis_ for the small remainder of my days),

but only the further to secure myself against any imputation of unseemly

forthputting. I will barely subjoin, in this connexion, that, whereas

Job was left to desire, in the soreness of his heart, that his adversary

had written a book, as perchance misanthropically wishing to indite a

review thereof, yet was not Satan allowed so far to tempt him as to send

Bildad, Eliphaz, and Zophar each with an unprinted work in his wallet to

be submitted to his censure. But of this enough. Were I in need of other

excuse, I might add that I write by the express desire of Mr. Biglow

himself, whose entire winter leisure is occupied, as he assures me, in

answering demands for autographs, a labor exacting enough in itself, and

egregiously so to him, who, being no ready penman, cannot sign so much

as his name without strange contortions of the face (his nose, even,

being essential to complete success) and painfully suppressed

Saint-Vitus-dance of every muscle in his body. This, with his having

been put in the Commission of the Peace by our excellent Governor (_O,

si sic omnes!_) immediately on his accession to office, keeps him

continually employed. _Haud inexpertus loquor_, having for many years

written myself J.P., and being not seldom applied to for specimens of my

chirography, a request to which I have sometimes over weakly assented,

believing as I do that nothing written of set purpose can properly be

called an autograph, but only those unpremeditated sallies and lively

runnings which betray the fireside Man instead of the hunted Notoriety

doubling on his pursuers. But it is time that I should bethink me of St.

Austin's prayer, _libera me a meipso_, if I would arrive at the matter

in hand.

 

Moreover, I had yet another reason for taking up the pen myself. I am

informed that 'The Atlantic Monthly' is mainly indebted for its success

to the contributions and editorial supervision of Dr. Holmes, whose

excellent 'Annals of America' occupy an honored place upon my shelves.

The journal itself I have never seen; but if this be so, it might seem

that the recommendation of a brother-clergyman (though _par magis quam

similis_) should carry a greater weight. I suppose that you have a

department for historical lucubrations, and should be glad, if deemed

desirable, to forward for publication my 'Collections for the

Antiquities of Jaalam,' and my (now happily complete) pedigree of the

Wilbur family from its _fons et origo_, the Wild Boar of Ardennes.

Withdrawn from the active duties of my profession by the settlement of a

colleague-pastor, the Reverend Jeduthun Hitchcock, formerly of Brutus

Four-Corners, I might find time for further contributions to general

literature on similar topicks. I have made large advances towards a

completer genealogy of Mrs. Wilbur's family, the Pilcoxes, not, if I

know myself, from any idle vanity, but with the sole desire of rendering

myself useful in my day and generation. _Nulla dies sine lineâ_. I

inclose a meteorological register, a list of the births, deaths, and

marriages, and a few _memorabilia_ of longevity in Jaalam East Parish

for the last half-century. Though spared to the unusual period of more

than eighty years, I find no diminution of my faculties or abatement of

my natural vigor, except a scarcely sensible decay of memory and a

necessity of recurring to younger eyesight or spectacles for the finer

print in Cruden. It would gratify me to make some further provision for

declining years from the emoluments of my literary labors. I had

intended to effect an insurance on my life, but was deterred therefrom

by a circular from one of the offices, in which the sudden death of so

large a proportion of the insured was set forth as an inducement, that

it seemed to me little less than a tempting of Providence. _Neque in

summâ inopiâ levis esse senectus potest, ne sapienti quidem_.

 

Thus far concerning Mr. Biglow; and so much seemed needful (_brevis esse

laboro_) by way of preliminary, after a silence of fourteen years. He

greatly fears lest he may in this essay have fallen below himself, well

knowing that, if exercise be dangerous on a full stomach, no less so is

writing on a full reputation. Beset as he has been on all sides, he

could not refrain, and would only imprecate patience till he shall again

have 'got the hang' (as he calls it) of an accomplishment long disused.

The letter of Mr. Sawin was received some time in last June, and others

have followed which will in due season be submitted to the publick. How

largely his statements are to be depended on, I more than merely

dubitate. He was always distinguished for a tendency to

exaggeration,--it might almost be qualified by a stronger term.

_Fortiter mentire, aliquid hæret_ seemed to be his favorite rule of

rhetoric. That he is actually where he says he is the postmark would

seem to confirm; that he was received with the publick demonstrations he

describes would appear consonant with what we know of the habits of

those regions; but further than this I venture not to decide. I have

sometimes suspected a vein of humor in him which leads him to speak by

contraries; but since, in the unrestrained intercourse of private life,

I have never observed in him any striking powers of invention, I am the

more willing to put a certain qualified faith in the incidents and the

details of life and manners which give to his narratives some portion of

the interest and entertainment which characterizes a Century Sermon.

 

It may be expected of me that I should say something to justify myself

with the world for a seeming inconsistency with my well-known principles

in allowing my youngest son to raise a company for the war, a fact known

to all through the medium of the publick prints. I did reason with the

young man, but _expellas naturam furcâ tamen usque recurrit_. Having

myself been a chaplain in 1812, I could the less wonder that a man of

war had sprung from my loins. It was, indeed, grievous to send my

Benjamin, the child of my old age; but after the discomfiture of

Manassas, I with my own hands did buckle on his armor, trusting in the

great Comforter and Commander for strength according to my need. For

truly the memory of a brave son dead in his shroud were a greater staff

of my declining years than a living coward (if those may be said to have

lived who carry all of themselves into the grave with them), though his

days might be long in the land, and he should get much goods. It is not

till our earthen vessels are broken that we find and truly possess the

treasure that was laid up in them. _Migravi in animam meam_, I have

sought refuge in my own soul; nor would I be shamed by the heathen

comedian with his _Neqwam illud verbum, bene vult, nisi bene facit_.

During our dark days, I read constantly in the inspired book of Job,

which I believe to contain more food to maintain the fibre of the soul

for right living and high thinking than all pagan literature together,

though I would by no means vilipend the study of the classicks. There I

read that Job said in his despair, even as the fool saith in his heart

there is no God,--'The tabernacles of robbers prosper, and they that

provoke God are secure.' (Job xii. 6.) But I sought farther till I found

this Scripture also, which I would have those perpend who have striven

to turn our Israel aside to the worship of strange gods.--'If I did

despise the cause of my manservant or of my maid-servant, when they

contended with me, what then shall I do when God riseth up? and when he

visiteth, what shall I answer him?' (Job xxxi. 13, 14.) On this text I

preached a discourse on the last day of Fasting and Humiliation with

general acceptance, though there were not wanting one or two Laodiceans

who said that I should have waited till the President announced his

policy. But let us hope and pray, remembering this of Saint Gregory,

_Vult Deus rogari, vult cogi, vult quâdam importunitate vinci_.

 

We had our first fall of snow on Friday last. Frosts have been unusually

backward this fall. A singular circumstance occurred in this town on the

20th October, in the family of Deacon Pelatiah Tinkham. On the previous

evening, a few moments before family prayers,

 

* * * * *

 

[The editors of the 'Atlantic' find it necessary here to cut short the

letter of their valued correspondent, which seemed calculated rather on

the rates of longevity in Jaalam than for less favored localities. They

have every encouragement to hope that he will write again.]

 

With esteem and respect, Your obedient servant, Homer Wilbur, A.M.

 

 

It's some consid'ble of a spell sence I hain't writ no letters,

An' ther' 's gret changes hez took place in all polit'cle metters:

Some canderdates air dead an' gone, an' some hez ben defeated,

Which 'mounts to pooty much the same; fer it's ben proved repeated

A betch o' bread thet hain't riz once ain't goin' to rise agin,

An' it's jest money throwed away to put the emptins in:

But thet's wut folks wun't never larn; they dunno how to go,

Arter you want their room, no more 'n a bullet-headed bean;

Ther' 's ollers chaps a-hangin' roun' thet can't see peatime's past,

Mis'ble as roosters in a rain, heads down an' tails half-mast: 10

It ain't disgraceful bein' beat, when a holl nation doos it,

But Chance is like an amberill,--it don't take twice to lose it.

 

I spose you're kin' o' cur'ous, now, to know why I hain't writ.

Wal, I've ben where a litt'ry taste don't somehow seem to git

Th' encouragement a feller'd think, thet's used to public schools,

An' where sech things ez paper 'n' ink air clean agin the rules:

A kind o' vicyvarsy house, built dreffle strong an' stout,

So 's 't honest people can't get in, ner t'other sort git out.

An' with the winders so contrived, you'd prob'ly like the view

Better alookin' in than out, though it seems sing'lar, tu; 20

But then the landlord sets by ye, can't bear ye out o' sight,

And locks ye up ez reg'lar ez an outside door at night.

 

This world is awfle contrary: the rope may stretch your neck

Thet mebby kep' another chap frum washin' off a wreck;

An' you may see the taters grow in one poor feller's patch,

So small no self-respectin' hen thet vallied time 'ould scratch,

So small the rot can't find 'em out, an' then agin, nex' door,

Ez big ez wut hogs dream on when they're 'most too fat to snore.

But groutin' ain't no kin' o' use; an' ef the fust throw fails,

Why, up an' try agin, thet's all,--the coppers ain't all tails, 30

Though I _hev_ seen 'em when I thought they hedn't no more head

Than 'd sarve a nussin' Brigadier thet gits some Ink to shed.

 

When I writ last, I'd ben turned loose by thet blamed nigger, Pomp,

Ferlorner than a musquash, ef you'd took an' dreened his swamp;

But I ain't o' the meechin' kind, thet sets an' thinks fer weeks

The bottom's out o' th' univarse coz their own gillpot leaks.

I hed to cross bayous an' criks, (wal, it did beat all natur',)

Upon a kin' o' corderoy, fust log, then alligator;

Luck'ly, the critters warn't sharp-sot; I guess 'twuz overruled

They 'd done their mornin's marketin' an' gut their hunger cooled; 40

Fer missionaries to the Creeks an' runaways are viewed

By them an' folks ez sent express to be their reg'lar food;

Wutever 'twuz, they laid an' snoozed ez peacefully ez sinners,

Meek ez disgestin' deacons be at ordination dinners;

Ef any on 'em turned an' snapped, I let 'em kin' o' taste

My live-oak leg, an' so, ye see, ther' warn't no gret o' waste;

Fer they found out in quicker time than ef they'd ben to college

'Twarn't heartier food than though 'twuz made out o' the tree o'

knowledge.

But I tell _you_ my other leg hed larned wut pizon-nettle meant,

An' var'ous other usefle things, afore I reached a settlement, 50

An' all o' me thet wuzn't sore an' sendin' prickles thru me

Wuz jest the leg I parted with in lickin' Montezumy:

A useful limb it's ben to me, an' more of a support

Than wut the other hez ben,--coz I dror my pension for 't.

 

Wal, I gut in at last where folks wuz civerlized an' white,

Ez I diskivered to my cost afore 'twarn't hardly night;

Fer 'z I wuz settin' in the bar a-takin' sunthin' hot,

An' feelin' like a man agin, all over in one spot,

A feller thet sot oppersite, arter a squint at me,

Lep' up an' drawed his peacemaker, an', 'Dash it, Sir,' suz he, 60

'I'm doubledashed ef you ain't him thet stole my yaller chettle,

(You're all the stranger thet's around,) so now you've gut to settle;

It ain't no use to argerfy ner try to cut up frisky,

I know ye ez I know the smell of ole chain-lightnin' whiskey;

We're lor-abidin' folks down here, we'll fix ye so's 't a bar

Wouldn' tech ye with a ten-foot pole; (Jedge, you jest warm the tar;)

You'll think you'd better ha' gut among a tribe o' Mongrel Tartars,

'fore we've done showin' how we raise our Southun prize tar-martyrs;

A moultin' fallen cherubim, ef he should see ye, 'd snicker,

Thinkin' he warn't a suckemstance. Come, genlemun, le' 's liquor; 70

An', Gin'ral, when you've mixed the drinks an' chalked 'em up, tote roun'

An' see ef ther' 's a feather-bed (thet's borryable) in town.

We'll try ye fair, ole Grafted-Leg, an' ef the tar wun't stick,

Th' ain't not a juror here but wut'll 'quit ye double-quick,'

To cut it short, I wun't say sweet, they gi' me a good dip,

(They ain't _perfessin'_ Bahptists here,) then give the bed a rip,--

The jury'd sot, an' quicker 'n a flash they hetched me out, a livin'

Extemp'ry mammoth turkey-chick fer a Fejee Thanksgivin'.

Thet I felt some stuck up is wut it's nat'ral to suppose,

When poppylar enthusiasm hed funnished me sech clo'es; 80

(Ner 'tain't without edvantiges, this kin' o' suit, ye see,

It's water-proof, an' water's wut I like kep' out o' me;)

But nut content with thet, they took a kerridge from the fence

An' rid me roun' to see the place, entirely free 'f expense,

With forty-'leven new kines o' sarse without no charge acquainted me,

Gi' me three cheers, an' vowed thet I wuz all their fahncy painted me;

They treated me to all their eggs; (they keep 'em I should think,

Fer sech ovations, pooty long, for they wuz mos' distinc');

They starred me thick 'z the Milky-Way with indiscrim'nit cherity,

Fer wut we call reception eggs air sunthin' of a rerity; 90

Green ones is plentifle anough, skurce wuth a nigger's getherin',

But your dead-ripe ones ranges high fer treatin' Nothun bretherin;

A spotteder, ring-streakeder child the' warn't in Uncle Sam's

Holl farm,--a cross of striped pig an' one o' Jacob's lambs;

'Twuz 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 isn't o' much more account than an ole settin' hen's; 100

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

An' so their time an' 'tention both air at saci'ty's call.)

Talk about hospatality! wut Nothun town d' ye know

Would take a totle stranger up an' treat him gratis so?

You'd better b'lleve ther' 's nothin' like this spendin' days an' nights

Along 'ith a dependent race fer civerlizin' whites.

 

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. 110

I didn'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 wouldn't ha' made an A 1 kin' o' speech

Astride a Southun chestnut horse sharper 'n a baby's screech.

Two year ago they ketched the thief, 'n' seein' I wuz innercent,

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. 120

When I come out, the folks behaved mos' gen'manly an' harnsome;

They 'lowed it wouldn'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: 130

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 European 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:) 140

'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.'

They got up a subscription, tu, but no gret come o' _thet;_

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: 150

I didn't call but jest on one, an' _he_ drawed tooth-pick on me,

An' reckoned he warn't goin' to stan' no sech dog-gauned econ'my:

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

Than ef 't had ben from fust to last a regular 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. 160

 

I warn't so bad off, arter all; I needn'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 ascrougin' 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 'twuz drawed by a las' cent'ry

teapot;-- 170

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:

Nut but wut they're ez _good_ ez gold, but 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 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; 'twuz nat'ral to expec'

Supplies o' change wuz jes' the things we shouldn't recollec'; 180

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 'tain't quite hendy to pass off one o' your six-foot Guineas

An' git your halves an' quarters back in gals an' pickaninnies:

Wal, 'tain'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'; 190

_He_ never'd thought o' borryin' from Esau like all nater

An' 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, 200

Where a man's sunthin' coz he's white, an' whiskey's cheap ez fleas,

An' the financial pollercy jes' sooted my idees,

Thet I 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,

With nothin' to feel riled about much later 'n Eddam's fall.

 

Ez fur ez human foresight goes, we made an even trade:

She gut an overseer, an' I a fem'ly ready-made,

The youngest on 'em 's 'mos' growed up, rugged an' spry ez weazles,

So 's 't ther' 's no resk o' doctors' bills fer hoopin'-cough an' measles.

Our farm's at Turkey-Buzzard Roost, Little Big Boosy River, 211

Wal located in all respex,--fer 'tain't the chills 'n' fever

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 'twist 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: 221

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 from 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);

His brother Asaph picked her up an' tied her to a tree,

An' then she kicked an hour 'n' a half afore she'd let it be: 230

Wal, Miss S. _doos_ hev cuttins-up an' pourins-out o' vials,

But then she hez her widder's thirds, an' all on us hez trials.

My objec', though, in writin' now warn't to allude to sech,

But to another suckemstance more 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; 240

Fin'lly, I never wun't come back, she needn'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: 250

Wut _doos_ Secedin' mean, ef 'tain't thet nat'rul rights hez riz, 'n'

Thet wut is mine's my own, but wut's another man's ain't his'n?

 

Besides, I couldn'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,]

'Ner never paid no demmiges; but thet wun't do no harm,

Pervidin' thet you'll ondertake to oversee the farm;

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

An' settin' in the Jestice-Court for welcomin' o' strangers;') 260

[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, 270

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 'twarn't for studyin' evenins, why, I never 'd ha' ben here

A 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' origenle patriarchs;

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

All thet you've gut to know is jes' beyond an evrage darky; 280

Schoolin' 's wut they can't seem to stan', they 're tu consarned

high-pressure,

An' knowin' t' much might spile a boy for hem' 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

Razor an' soap-brush intu, with his hym-book an' his Bible,--

But they _du_ preach, I swan to man, it's puf'kly indescrib'le!

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

An' make Ole Split-Foot winch an' squirm, for all he's used to singein';

Hawkins's whetstone ain't a pinch o' primin' to the innards

To hearin' on 'em put free grace t' a lot o' tough old sinhards! 290

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,