Part 62 (2/2)

An' now I'm speakin' about ribs, it kin' o' brings to mind One thet I couldn't never break,--the one I lef' behind; Ef you should see her, jest clear out the spout o' your invention An' pour the longest sweetnin' in about an annooal pension, An' kin' o' hint (in case, you know, the critter should refuse to be Consoled) I aint so 'xpensive now to keep ez wut I used to be; There's one arm less, ditto one eye, an' then the leg thet's wooden Can be took off an' sot away wenever ther's a puddin'.

I spose you think I'm comin' back ez opperlunt ez thunder, With s.h.i.+ploads o' gold images an' varus sorts o' plunder; Wal, 'fore I vullinteered, I thought this country wuz a sort o'

Canaan, a reg'lar Promised Land flowin' with rum an' water, Ware propaty growed up like time, without no cultivation, An' gold wuz dug ez taters be among our Yankee nation, Ware nateral advantages were pufficly amazin', Ware every rock there wuz about with precious stuns wuz blazin', Ware mill-sites filled the country up ez thick ez you could cram 'em, An' desput rivers run about abeggin' folks to dam 'em; Then there were meetinhouses, tu, chockful o' gold an' silver Thet you could take, an' no one couldn't hand ye in no bill fer;-- Thet's wut I thought afore I went, thet's wut them fellers told us Thet stayed to hum an' speechified an' to the buzzards sold us; I thought thet gold mines could be gut cheaper than Chiny asters, An' see myself a comin' back like sixty Jacob Astors; But sech idees soon melted down an' didn't leave a grease-spot; I vow my holl sheer o' the spiles wouldn't come nigh a V spot; Although, most anywares we've ben, you needn't break no locks, Nor run no kin' o' risks, to fill your pocket full o' rocks.

I guess I mentioned in my last some o' the nateral feeturs O' this all-fiered buggy hole in th' way o' awfle creeturs, But I fergut to name (new things to speak on so abounded) How one day you'll most die o' thust, an' 'fore the next git drownded.

The clymit seems to me jest like a teapot made o' pewter Our Prudence hed, thet wouldn't pour (all she could du) to suit her; Fust place the leaves 'ould choke the spout, so's not a drop 'ould dreen out, Then Prude 'ould tip an' tip an' tip, till the holl kit bust clean out, The kiver-hinge-pin bein' lost, tea-leaves an' tea an' kiver 'ould all come down _kerswosh_! ez though the dam broke in a river.

Jest so 'tis here; holl months there aint a day o' rainy weather, An' jest ez th' officers 'ould be alayin' heads together Ez t' how they'd mix their drink at sech a milingtary deepot,-- 'T'ould pour ez though the lid wuz off the everlastin' teapot.

The cons'quence is, thet I shall take, wen I'm allowed to leave here, One piece o' propaty along,--an' thet's the shakin' fever; It's reggilar employment, though, an' thet aint thought to harm one, Nor 'taint so tiresome ez it wuz with t'other leg an' arm on; An' it's a consolation, tu, although it doosn't pay, To hev it said you're some gret shakes in any kin' o' way.

'T worn't very long, I tell ye wut, I thought o' fortin-makin',-- One day a reg'lar s.h.i.+ver-de-freeze, an' next ez good ez bakin',-- One day abrilin' in the sand, then smoth'rin' in the mashes,-- Git up all sound, be put to bed a mess o' hacks an' smashes.

But then, thinks I, at any rate there's glory to be hed,-- Thet's an investment, arter all, thet mayn't turn out so bad; But somehow, wen we'd fit an' licked, I ollers found the thanks Gut kin' o' lodged afore they come ez low down ez the ranks; The Gin'rals gut the biggest sheer, the Cunnles next, an' so on,-- _We_ never gut a blasted mite o' glory ez I know on; An' spose we hed, I wonder how you're goin' to contrive its Division so's to give a piece to twenty thousand privits; Ef you should multiply by ten the portion o' the brav'st one, You wouldn't git more 'n half enough to speak of on a grave-stun; We git the licks,--we're jest the grist thet's put into War's hoppers; Leftenants is the lowest grade thet helps pick up the coppers.

It may suit folks thet go agin a body with a soul in't, An' aint contented with a hide without a bagnet hole in't; But glory is a kin' o' thing _I_ shan't pursue no furder, Coz thet's the off'cers parquisite,--yourn's on'y jest the murder.

Wal, arter I gin glory up, thinks I at least there's one Thing in the bills we aint hed yit, an' thet's the

GLORIOUS FUN Ef once we git to Mexico, we fairly may persume we All day an' night shall revel in the halls o' Montezumy.

I'll tell ye wut _my_ revels wuz, an' see how you would like 'em; _We_ never gut inside the hall: the nighest ever _I_ come Wuz stan'in' sentry in the sun (an', fact, it _seemed_ a cent'ry) A ketchin' smells o' biled an' roast thet come out thru the entry, An' hearin' ez I sweltered thru my pa.s.ses an' repa.s.ses, A rat-tat-too o' knives an' forks, a clinkty-clink o' gla.s.ses: I can't tell off the bill o' fare the Gin'rals hed inside; All I know is, thet out o' doors a pair o' soles wuz fried, An' not a hunderd miles away frum ware this child wuz posted, A Ma.s.sachusetts citizen wuz baked an' biled an' roasted; The on'y thing like revellin' thet ever come to me Wuz bein' routed out o' sleep by thet darned revelee.

They say the quarrel's settled now; fer my part I've some doubt on't, 'T 'll take more fish-skin than folks think to take the rile clean out on't; At any rate, I'm so used up I can't do no more fightin', The on'y chance thet's left to me is politics or writin'; Now, ez the people's gut to hev a milingtary man, An' I aint nothin' else jest now, I've hit upon a plan; The can'idatin' line, you know, 'ould suit me to a T, An' ef I lose, 't wunt hurt my ears to lodge another flea; So I'll set up ez can'idate fer any kin' o' office, (I mean fer any thet includes good easy-cheers an' soffies; Fer ez to runnin' fer a place ware work's the time o' day, You know thet's wut I never did,--except the other way;) Ef it's the Presidential cheer fer wich I'd better run, Wut two legs anywares about could keep up with my one?

There aint no kin' o' quality in can'idates, it's said, So useful ez a wooden leg,--except a wooden head; There's nothin' aint so poppylar--(wy, it's a parfect sin To think wut Mexico hez paid fer Santy Anny's pin;)-- Then I haint gut no princerples, an', sence I wuz knee-high, I never _did_ hev any gret, ez you can testify; I'm a decided peace man, tu, an' go agin the war,-- Fer now the holl on 't 's gone an' past, wut is there to go _for_?

Ef, wile you're 'lectioneerin' round, some curus chaps should beg To know my views o' state affairs, jest answer

WOODEN LEG

!

Ef they aint settisfied with thet, an' kin' o' pry an' doubt An' ax fer sutthin' deffynit, jest say

ONE EYE PUT OUT

!

Thet kin' o' talk I guess you'll find'll answer to a charm, An' wen you're druv tu nigh the wall, hol' up my missin' arm; Ef they should nose round fer a pledge, put on a vartoous look An' tell 'em thet's percisely wut I never gin nor--took!

Then you can call me ”Timbertoes,”--thet's wut the people likes; Sutthin' combinin' morril truth with phrases sech ez strikes; Some say the people's fond o' this, or thet, or wut you please,-- I tell ye wut the people want is jest correct idees; ”Old Timbertoes,” you see, 's a creed it's safe to be quite bold on, There's nothin' in't the other side can any ways git hold on; It's a good tangible idee, a sutthin' to embody Thet valooable cla.s.s o' men who look thru brandy-toddy; It gives a Party Platform, tu, jest level with the mind Of all right-thinkin', honest folks thet mean to go it blind; Then there air other good hooraws to dror on ez you need 'em, Sech ez the

one-eyed Slarterer

, the

b.l.o.o.d.y Birdofredum Them's wut takes hold o' folks thet think, ez well ez o' the ma.s.ses, An' makes you sartin o' the aid o' good men of all cla.s.ses.

There's one thing I'm in doubt about; in order to be Presidunt, It's absolutely ne'ssary to be a Southern residunt; The Const.i.tution settles thet, an' also thet a feller Must own a n.i.g.g.e.r o' some sort, jet black, or brown, or yeller.

Now I haint no objections agin particklar climes, Nor agin ownin' anythin' (except the truth sometimes), But, ez I haint no capital, up there among ye, maybe, You might raise funds enough fer me to buy a low-priced baby, An' then, to suit the No'thern folks, who feel obleeged to say They hate an' cuss the very thing they vote fer every day, Say you're a.s.sured I go full b.u.t.t fer Liberty's diffusion An' made the purchis on'y jest to spite the Inst.i.tootion;-- But, golly! there's the currier's hoss upon the pavement pawin'!

I'll be more 'xplicit in my next.

Yourn,

Birdofredum Sawin

.

[We have now a tolerably fair chance of estimating how the balance-sheet stands between our returned volunteer and glory. Supposing the entries to be set down on both sides of the account in fractional parts of one hundred, we shall arrive at something like the following result:--

B. Sawin

, Esq., in account with (

Blank

)

Glory

.

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