_To the Editers of The Dabook:_

SURS:--Wen I writ you last, the Messige warn't finished. Wal, sich a time as we had in finishin that docyment you never did see. The Kernel an I set up all nite long three or fore nites, but it was nigh about onpossibul to get it to suit him. He would get it fixed, an then Seward would c.u.m in an say it was too bold. Then Chase he'd c.u.m in an say it warn't bold enuf; and finally I telled him to make it as old Deacon Grimes did his oven. He wanted to know how that was. Wal, I telled him it was this way: The Deacon built an oven facin to the North, wen one of his nabors c.u.m along an sed that would never do, as the North wind would blow rite into the mouth of the oven. So the old man turned it around, an put the face to the South. Pretty soon another nabor c.u.m along, an ses he, "Deacon, it will never do to have that oven face the South, for there ain't any wind so bl.u.s.tering as the South wind." So the Deacon turned it around to the West. Pretty soon a man c.u.m along, an ses he, "Deacon, don't you know that the worst showers and hurry-canes we have always c.u.m from the West? It will never do to face your oven that way." So the Deacon determined to change it around to the East. He hadn't more than got it dun, before another nabur c.u.m along, an ses he, "Why, Deacon Grimes, I'm perfectly astonished to see you buildin an oven an facin it to the East. There ain't any wind so sarchin and penetratin as the East wind, an it will blow your fire all out of the oven." "Wal," ses the old Deacon, perfectly discurriged, "I'll suit you all; I'll build my oven on a pivot, an wen you c.u.m along you kin turn it around jest as you want it." "Now," ses I, "Kernel, that's the way to fix your Messige." Ses he, "That is a fact; the only trubbil is to fix on a pivot on which it kin turn." "Wal," ses I, "that is the easiest thing in the world. Take the n.i.g.g.e.r for the pivot, an it will suit every man in your party. The only difference between 'em is, that some don't like to look hin square in the face. That sort kin turn your Messige around a little, an then they will see the n.i.g.g.e.r side-ways; and those that can't stand that kin turn it clear around, an then they will see the n.i.g.g.e.r in the back, but it will be n.i.g.g.e.r all the time!" The Kernel sed it was a capital idee, an he ment to carry it out. It got noised around that the Kernel was comin out with some big thing in his Messige, an every Congressman, wen he got to Washinton, run rite to the White House to give the Kernel advice. They nigh about run him to deth. "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, make believe you're sick."

"Sho," ses he, "that won't do a bit of good. I've tried it often, an they bore me wus than ever." "Wal," ses I, "tell 'em you've got the scarlet fever, an that will scare 'em away." The Kernel sed it was a fust-rate idee, an so it was announced in all the papers that the President had the scarlet fever; but it didn't do much good. Sum staid away, but the crowd yet was tremenjus. "Now," ses I, "Kernel, this is too bad; here it is almost time for Congress to meet, and no Messige dun yet. Jest let the reporters announce that you've got the small-pox, an there won't be a mother's son of 'em c.u.m within gunshot of you. Then you kin fix your Messige, put in that patent pivot, and grease things up generally, so they'll run another year without teching." The Kernel sed there was no other way than to do it. When it got out that the Kernel had the small-pox, you never see sech a calm. The White House was nigh about deserted, an it seemed like a Sunday up in Maine. The Kernel then set rite down to his Messige, an worked like a beever. He sed he could allers soon put a thing in shape after the foundashin timbers were laid. And so he did. Wen he got it finished, he called Seward and red it to him. He sed it was capital. Then he sent for Chase, an he sed it was all rite. "No," ses I, "Kernel, send for a War Dimmycrat, an see how he'll like it." Wen I sed this, the Kernel laffed rite out. Ses he, "Majer, you're jokin; I know you are." Ses he, "The War Dimmycrats remind we of a story about bar-huntin out West. Old Josh Muggin had a young dog wich was very fierce for bars. So one day he tuk him along in a hunt. In the very first fite the bar bit the dog's tail off, and away he run yelpin an barkin like mad, an Josh could never get his dog to fite bars after that. Now, it is jest so with the War Dimmycrats. They were very fierce to fite me if I issued my Emanc.i.p.ashin Proclamashin, but I did it, an by so doin, _I cut their tails off_, and they have never showed any fite agin me sence, an they won't. No--I rally wish I hadn't eny more trubbil on hand than the War Dimmycrats will give me."

Ses I, "Kernel, I think you are rather hard on the War Dimmycrats. They supported you because they thought you was tryin to restore the Union; but now, wen they read your messige and see that you won't have the Union back enyhow, they will say you deceived 'em, and you may find 'em the most trubbelsum customers you've yet had to deal with. They ment to sustain the government, but now wen they see that _you_ won't sustain it, they may turn on you wus than the copperheds have;" and ses I, "Kernel, you jist get the Dimmycrat's united, and I shudn't wonder if they wud be after this, and then let all your Miss-Nancy Abolishinists look out, for there won't be as much left of em as there was of Bill Peeler's dog after his panther fite." Ses the Kernel, ses he, "How much was that?" "Wal," ses I, "Bill always sed there warn't nothin left but the collar he hed round his neck, and the tip eend of his tale, about an inch long." "Wal," ses the Kernel, "I've got to go ahed, no matter who don't like it, or who gits licked in the fite. I'me in the Abolishin bote, and you can't stop it now eny more than you kin put Lake Superior in a quart bottle." Ses I, "Go ahed, Kernel; I allers like to see a man bold and strong on his own principles. There's nothin like pluck. Let everybody know jist what you mean, and then if they support you it is their own fault." "Wal," ses he, "ain't I plain enuf this time?" "Yes," ses I, "Kernel, all but the amnesty part--that's kinder petty-fogy." "Wal," ses he, "Majer, men that can't see a hole through a ladder ought to be humbugged." Ses I, "Mebby that's so, but we shall all know more about who is humbugged and who isn't, after the war is over."

But I never did see people so tickled over the Messige as the Republikins all are. They say it is jest the thing--that it is goin to wipe out slavery, and prevent the "Union as it was" ever being restored; and then it is dun so cutely that a good menny people won't see through it. That amnesty dodge throws dust in their eyes, and kinder sounds generous like.

There's a great fite coming off among the Abolishinists about who's to be run for next President, and I think I'll hev some news for you afore long. Enyhow, I shall keep my eyes open as ushil.

Yourn, till deth,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.

LETTER x.x.x.

_The Major visits Parson Blair--The Loyal Leagues of the White House--A Wonderful Dream--The Grave of the Union--The President Don't Like It--About Leather--How the Capital Looks._

WASHINTON, Jan. 30, 1864.

_To the Editers of The Dabook:_

SURS:--I spose your readers think I'm dead, or mebby they think I've run away with a pile of greenbacks, as that is kinder fashionabul now-a-days; but I aint in neithur fix. The rale truth is that after I writ you my last letter I got completely disgusted and c.u.m mitey nigh goin back hum to Downingville, and vowin I would never return to this sink of sin agin. But the Kernel got at me and begged I wouldn't think of it. I telled him I couldn't stay in the White House over New Years, and see the knaves and fools that would be there then.

So jest before Christmas, as good luck happened, old Fathur Blair axed me to go down to his place at Silvur Springs and stay ovur the hollidays. I tell you I was rale glad, fur the old man has got a fine place, and I could have it so quiet and cozy there aftur my hard work ovur the message. When I got there I was tuk down with the rumatiz, and had to keep my room for more than two weeks. Howevur, the Kernel sent me some prime old rye, and that, together with some operd.i.l.d.ock that old Aunt Keziah Wiggleton sent to me by my nefu Zeke put me on my pins agin. Old Father Blair and I had long talks about Ginneral Jackson and the Kernel, the war, n.i.g.g.e.rs, the next presidency, and so on. My old friend Blair was a grate man in Ginneral Jackson's time, but the trubbel with him now is that he don't move along with the world. He actually thinks that he is yet fitin Calhoun, an havin got in the bote with the Abolishenists, he don't know how to get out. Last week I c.u.m back to see the Kernel, and have been looking around for a few days to see how the land lay. I find that the principel idee in everybody's hed is, who's to be the next President. But I tell you when I look at the condishun of the country, it makes me sick to talk about a President.

What is the use of a President when there's a standin army? What is the use of a President when the ballot-box aint of half so much account as the cartridge-box? The first day I got back to the White House there was a lot of Loyel Legers and shoddy contractors c.u.m to tell the Kernel that they had nominated him for President. After they went out Linkin ses to me, ses he, "Majer, what do you think of them fellows?" "Wal,"

ses I, "they look to me mean enough to steal n.i.g.g.e.rs." The Kernel did not say anything, but looked kinder cross-eyed at me. The Kernel and I then had a long talk about matters and things, and after taking a good swig of old rye, went to bed. That nite I had a wonderful dream. The next mornin, when I went in the room where the Kernel was, ses he, "Majer, you look oncommon serious this mornin; what's the matter?"

"Wal," ses I, "I had a wonderful dream last nite, that eenamost frightened me to deth." "Wal," ses he, "what on earth was it?" "Wal,"

ses I, "if I tell you the hull of it jest as it appeared to me, you musn't get mad." "Oh," ses the Kernel, "I don't keer nothin about dreams, for I allers interpret them by contraries." "Wal," ses I, "you can cypher out the meanin of it yourself to suit yourself, but I'll tell it to you jest as it appeared to me, and it seemed to me as plain as if it was broad daylight." "Wal," ses I, "I thought I was in the grave-yard, and there was a great big grave dug, large enough to hold four or five coffins, and while I was standing there wonderin what on earth the grave was for, I saw a big black hea.r.s.e comin, and Stantin was driving it. That kinder startled me; but I looked agin, and I see it was bein drawn by them War Dimmycrats, d.i.c.kinson, Butler, Meagher, Cochrane, and the hea.r.s.e itself was marked 'War Dimmycracy.' When Stantin druv up to the grave, ses he, 'My jack-=a.s.ses had a heavy load, but they pulled it through bravely,' for the poor War Dimmycrats had heads of men on the bodies of mules. I wondered what on airth could be in the hea.r.s.e, for it seemed to be heavily loaded. Right behind the hea.r.s.e, walkin along, were you and Sumner, and Greeley, and Chase, and Beecher, and old Grandfather Welles. Pretty soon you all went to work takin out the coffins, and gettin ready to put them in the grave. The first one tuk out was marked 'habeas corpus,' the second one 'trial by jury,' then 'the Union,' and then 'the Const.i.tution.' When they were all out on the ground, some dispute riz as to which should be buried first, but Greeley cut it short by sayin, 'put the Const.i.tution under, and all else follows.' So Greeley got the rope under one end of the coffin and Sumner under the other, and begun to let it down. While it was goin down, you looked kinder anxious at Chase, and ses you, 'Chase, think it will stay down?' And old Greenbacks, ses he, 'My G.o.d, Kernel, it must stay _down_, or we will all go _up_.' Greeley was tickled eenamost to death, and ses he, 'We shall bury it now so that it shall never be heerd of agin.' Old Grandfather Welles, however, seemed half frightened to deth, and trembled like a sick dog, and ses, 'Oh! that it was all over.' Sumner was wrathy at this, and ses he, 'Shut up, you old fool; wait until it is all under.' And there, too, stood Beecher, with a n.i.g.g.e.r baby in his arms, lookin up to heaven and prayin all the while, as follows: 'Oh! Lord, not thy will but _mine_ be done.'

Finally, all the coffins were put in the grave and covered up. I wondered where Seward could be all this time, and lookin up, there he was, flyin through the air with wings, and tails, and horns, lookin for all the world like an evil spirit, and ses he, 'If 'twere done, when it is done,' just as if he was afraid that a day of resurrection was comin. I tell you, it made me feel sorrowful and sad when I saw the old Const.i.tution and the Union put under the ground, out of sight, and when I woke up, my eyes were full of tears, and I felt more like cryin than I have sence I was born."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Majer's Wonderful Dream. The Grave of the Union.--Page 250.]

After I got thru, ses I, "Kernel, what do you think of my dream?" He looked down on the floor, and then looked up, then he looked down agin and then he looked up. I see he was kinder worried, so I said nothin.

Finally, he kicked his slipper off, and ses he, "Majer, do you know what good lether is?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I used to know something about lether." "Wal," ses he, "what do you think of the lether in that slipper. Is it good?" "Yes," ses I, "I think it's pretty good." "Wal,"

ses he, "what kind is it?" Ses I, "It's calf-skin." "Wal," ses he, "kin you tell me whether the calf _was a heifer or a steer_?" "No," ses I, "I can't." "Wal," ses he, "I'm in jist the same fix about your dream. It is a good dream, but I can't tell whether it's a heifer or a steer. But I ruther reckon it's a _steer_!"

"Wal," ses I, "Kernel, you may think that my dream don't amount to anythin, but there are thousands of people who will see in it the fate of their country."

He didn't seem disposed to talk about it, however, and I let it drop.

Since then I've been over to the Capitol once or twice, and looked around Washington a leetle. I never see such a change in a place since I was born. It's dirtier, nastier, and meaner lookin than ever. In fact, it is just like the country, all goin to ruin. If the devil is ever happy, I think he would be nigh about tickled to deth now-a-days.

I guess everything is goin on to suit him to a fracshin. I kin tell you one thing. There is goin to be a bigger fite between Linkin and Chase for President than most pepil suppose. So look out for the musick ahed.

I shall keep a watch on all the doins, and write you when the rumatiz, like the greenback market, aint too stringent.

MAJER JACK DOWNING.