Part 12 (2/2)
He turned all sorts of colors, an wriggled as if he had a pin stickin in him. ”Now,” ses I, ”I didn't say that you were devils, or anything of the sort, but it seems putty certain that Mr. Stantin feels the shoe pinchin. At all events,” ses I, ”you ain't caught the South yet, an consultin what you will do with her before that is like countin chickens before they are hatched.”
The Kernel then sed that the session was closed, an after they all axed me to c.u.m an see 'em, except Stantin, they went away. I think my story about Sam Odum sot putty strong on 'em, an ef they feel like takin it to hum let 'em do so, for my rale rite down solemn opinion is, ef these ere Abolis.h.i.+n Cabynet were to stop trying to catch the South, _she would be hum an in the Union bed afore mornin_.
Yourn, till deth,
MAJER JACK DOWNING.
LETTER XXVIII.
_The Major and the ”Kernel” at work on the Message--The Major visits Mr. Chase again--Sees the Machines for Printing Greenbacks--A Machine for every General--The accounts mixed up--Mr. Lincoln gets Flighty over them--The Major Puts him to bed, and applies a mustard-plaster--He Revives, and proposes a Conundrum--The Major also proposes one._
WAs.h.i.+NGTON, Nov. 19th, 1863.
_To the Editers of The Dabook:_
SURS:--If I ain't been bizzy sence I writ you last, then never a man was. Besides, I've had a considerabul twinge of my old inemy, the rheumatiz. This ere Was.h.i.+ngton atmosfere is terribul on the const.i.tus.h.i.+n. The Kernel, too, was nigh about down sick one day; but we both tuk a good, old-fas.h.i.+oned wiskey-sling, of the very best Old Rye, and went to bed on it. The next mornin we both felt fust rate. The Kernel keeps as good wiskey as I ever got enywhere. We have been very hard at work on the messige, and such a time as we have had of it you never did see. Stantin don't know how meny sojers he has got in the field, nor how meny have been killed or wounded. Grandfather Welles can't tell how meny gunbotes he's got, an as for Chase, he don't purtend to even guess for a certainty how many greenbacks there are aflote, or how big the public debt is. The Kernel sed he couldn't even lay the foundas.h.i.+n timbers of his messige until he had some figgers about the debt to begin on. So I told him I would go over an see Chase an have a talk with him. I tuk my slate under my arm an started. Soon as I went in Chase tuk me by the hand an sed he was rale down rite glad to see me. I telled him what I wanted, an he sed he would soon have it reddy for me, but jest then he asked me to go up-stairs an see the macheenery an printin presses, and so on, that he had got to make money. He sed the worst of it was that the machenes was constantly gettin out of order, and he wanted to know if I understood anything about sich affairs. I telled him there warnt nothing, from squirrel-traps to dog-churns and thras.h.i.+ng macheenes, that I didn't know from stem to starn. Then he sed I was jest the chap he wanted. So I went with him, and I was perfectly thunderstruck when I saw all the riggin, and fixins, and belts, and shafts, and pulleys, and machenes all a runnin and whizzin and buzzin, as fast as they could go. Ses the Secketary, ”This here macheen runs to pay off Gineral Grant's troops.
This one runs to pay off Gineral Meade's troops. This one runs for Gineral Banks. This one is now bizzy for Gineral Burnside, and here is this ere one completely broken down. It is Gineral Gilmore's macheen!”
”Wal,” ses I, ”Mr. Secketary, do you have a macheen for every Gineral and every army?” ”Yes,” ses he, ”about that.” ”Wal,” ses I, ”what do you do about the contracters?” ”Oh,” ses he, ”I ain't showed you them yet. That's in another room.” Ses he, ”Come along with me.” So I follered, and we went off into another room. It was nigh about ten times as big as the first one, and there were hundreds of presses runnin' as fast as they could go. ”There,” ses he, ”if these here machenes were to stop one day, it would set all Wall street into a panic. Sometimes, when the belts give out or the bolts break, or the coal gits short, or paper don't git in in time, there is a good deal of troubil, but I've got it so fixed now that I keep 'em putty well supplied.” Ses I, ”Mr. Secketary, who is your engineer?” ”Wal,” ses he, ”he's a good trusty man.” ”But,” ses I, ”suppose he should bust your bilers, what would Wall street do then?” ”Wal,” ses he, ”I never thought of that, but I guess there ain't eny danger.” ”Wal,” ses I, ”steam is mighty onsartin. Old Aunt Keziah Wiggleton, up in Maine, used to say that the only safe way to run a steamboat was to take the bilers out, and my opinion is, that a government run by steam will bust up one of these days.” Chase didn't seem to like this last remark much, but he didn't say enything. We c.u.m down stairs putty soon after, and a feller with a brown linen coat on, nigh about all over ink, brought a hull lot of papers covered over with figgers, and sed that Mr. Linkin could find out all he wanted to from them. I looked 'em over, but I couldn't make hed nor tail to them. ”Wal,” ses I, ”perhaps a chap who understands dubble and twisted entry book-keepin' can onderstand this ere figgering, but I'll be hanged if I kin.” Ses I, ”Here's seven thirtys, and five twentys, and six per cents, and five per cents, and bonds and stocks and sartificates, and '68s, and '78s, and '96s, and 158s, and Lord knows how many more 8s, until it gets all mixed up so that you can't tell enything more about the debt than Stantin kin tell how sojers has been killed and wounded. Now,” ses I, ”the people don't care a straw enything about your six twentys, or your five twentys. All they want to know is jest how much money this ere war has cost, and that is what I'me tryin' to figger out for em. When old Ginneral Jackson wanted me to go into Squire's Biddle's Bank and cifer out how matters stood I soon did it, but that warn't eny more comparin to this here affair, than the bunch of elder bushes in Deacon Jenkins's meadow is to the Dismal Swamp. I tuk the papers, however, over to Linkin, for it was the best I could do. Wen I handed them to the Kernel, ses he, ”Majer, does Chase expect me to survive after studyin out these figgers?” ”Wal,” ses I, ”Kernel, I don't know, but _I think Chase wants to be next President_.”
The Kernel tuk the hint rite off; but he sed Chase would never be President, for he wanted to be so bad that he acted all the time as if a b.u.mble bee was stingin him, and that his flyin round so would kill him off, if nothin else. We then both sot down and went to studyin the figgers. I cifered with my slate, and the Kernel made chalk marks on his hat every time we got up to a million of dollars. Purty soon the Kernel's eyes began to look wild, and ses he, ”Majer, where do we land next? Is she hedin up stream or side-ways? She'll go down, sure as thunder. Well, let her rip; she's been a sinkin consarn for years.” I see at once that the Kernel was flighty. Chase's figgers had turned his hed, and he thought he was flat-botin agin on the Mississippi river.
But he kept on ravin. Ses he, ”Majer, knock that n.i.g.g.e.r off the bow of the bote; he's rite in the way of the pilot.” Ses I, ”Kernel, it ain't safe to hit a n.i.g.g.e.r in these days; Stanton will put me in Fort La Fayette.” I thought this might bring the Kernel to his senses, but it didn't. Ses he, ”There it goes, Majer, jest as I told you, rite on that snag. That n.i.g.g.e.r is to blame for the hull of it.” I see it was no use, that the Kernel was nigh about stark mad, and so I said to him, ses I, ”Let's put up this work to-night, an go to bed.” He didn't want to, but I dragged him off, an he kept ravin' all the time, ”That n.i.g.g.e.r has ruined me! There he comes--he is after me yet!”
As soon as I got the Kernel in bed, I put a double set of mustard plasters on his feet, an then gave him a strong dose of my old remedy, elder-bark tea. I knew that would cure him, if anything on arth. Purty soon the sweat began to start, and the gripin in the bowels began. Jest as soon as this took place, it drawed all the disease out of his head, an the next mornin he was as bright as new dimes used to be when there was sich things.
The fust thing the Kernel sed to me in the mornin was, ses he, ”Majer, I hed an awful dream last nite.” Ses I, ”What was it?” ”Wal,” ses he, ”I dreamt that the n.i.g.g.e.r had destroyed the Union.” ”Wal,” ses I, ”Kernel, you git nearer the truth in your dreams than you ginrally do when you are wide awake. If you will only have another dream, you will see the Abolis.h.i.+nists have killed the Union, and that the poor n.i.g.g.e.r is only the means that they have used to do it.”
The Kernel didn't say nothin, but looked down on the floor an whistled.
Finally, he tuk out of his pocket one of Chase's new fifty-cent s.h.i.+nplasters, an ses he, ”Majer, kin you tell me why this new currency has the _odor_ of nas.h.i.+nality about it?” ”No,” ses I, ”Kernel, I don't see it.” ”Wal,” ses he, ”because it is _cented_ paper!” ”Wal,” ses I, ”Kernel, now kin you tell me why that fifty-cent s.h.i.+nplaster is like the war?” Ses he, ”Majer, you've got me there.” ”Wal,” ses I, ”the face is black, which means that we are fightin to free the n.i.g.g.e.r, and the back is red--for the blood--the price we are payin for it!”
When I sed this the Kernel brought his hand down on the tabil like all possessed, giv a kick with his foot that sent his slipper flyin clear across the room, an ses he, ”Majer, by the ----.” Ses I, ”Kernel, hold on. Do you want to take any more elder-bark tea?” When I sed this he tapered rite down, an ses he, jest as good as pie, ”Let's have some old rye and make frends.”
So I didn't object, but the messige ain't finished yet, and the Lord only knows when it will be dun.
Yourn till deth,
MAJER JACK DOWNING.
LETTER XXIX.
_The Trouble about the Message--Chase and Seward Find Fault with it--The Story of Old Deacon Grimes' Oven--Mr. Lincoln Overrun with Visitors--The Major Suggests a Way to Get Rid of Them--The Small Pox Dodge--The Message Finished--Mr. Lincoln Tells a Story._
WAs.h.i.+NGTON, Dec. 10, 1863.
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