ORPHEUS C. KERR.

LETTER XLI.

CITING A NOTABLE CASE OF VOLUNTEER SURGERY, AND GIVING AN OUTLINE SKETCH OF "COTTON SEMINARY."

WASHINGTON, D.C., April 25th, 1862.

There is a certain something about a sick-room, my boy, that makes me think seriously of my latter end, and recognize physicians as true heroes of the bottle-field. The subdued swearing of the sufferer on his bed, the m.u.f.fled tread of the venerable nurse, as she comes into the room to make sure that the brandy recommended by the doctor is not too mild for the patient, the sepulchral shout of the regimental cat as she recognizes the tread of Jacob Barker, the sergeant's bull-terrier, outside; all these are things to make the spectator remember that we are but dust, and that to return to dust is our dustiny.

Early in the week, my boy, a n.o.ble member of the Pennsylvania Mud-larks was made sick in a strange manner. A draft of picked men from certain regiments was ordered for a perilous expedition down the river. You may be aware, my boy, that a draft is always dangerous to delicate const.i.tutions; and, as the Mud-lark happened to burst into a profuse perspiration about the time he found himself standing in this draft, he, of course, took such a violent cold that he had to be put to bed directly. I went to see him, my boy; and whilst he was relating to me some affecting anecdotes of the time when he used to keep a bar, a member of the Medical Staff of the United States of America came in to see the patient.

This venerable surgeon first deposited a large saw, a hatchet, and two pick-axes on the table, and then says he:

"How do you find yourself, boy?"

The Mud-lark took a small chew of tobacco with a melancholy air, and says he:

"I think I've got the guitar in my head, Mr. Saw-bones, and am about to join the angel choir."

"I see how it is," says the surgeon, thoughtfully; "you think you've got the guitar, when it's only the drum of your ear that is affected.

Well," says the surgeon, with sudden pleasantness, as he reached after his saw and one of the pick-axes, "I must amputate your left leg at once."

The Mud-lark curled himself up in bed like a wounded anaconda, and says he:

"I don't see it in that light."

"Well," says the surgeon, in a sprightly manner, "then suppose I put a fly-blister on your stomick, and only amputate your right arm?"

The surgeon was formerly a blacksmith, my boy, and got his diploma by inventing some pills with iron in them. He proved that the blood of six healthy men contained enough iron to make six horse-shoes, and then invented the pills to cure hoa.r.s.eness.

The sick chap reflected on what his medical adviser had said, and then says he:

"Your words convince me that my situation must be dangerous. I must see some relative before I permit myself to be dissected."

"Whom would you wish me to send for?" says the surgeon.

"My grandmother, my dear old grandmother," said the Mud-lark, with much feeling.

The surgeon took me cautiously aside, and says he:

"My poor patient has a cold in his head, and his life depends, perhaps, on the gratification of his wishes. You have heard him ask for his grandmother," says the surgeon, softly, "and as his grandmother lives too far away to be sent for, we must practice a little harmless deception. We must send for Secretary Welles of the Navy Department, and introduce him as the grandmother. My patient will never know the difference."

I took the hint, my boy, and went after the Secretary; but the latter was so busy examining a model of Noah's Ark that he could not be seen.

Happily, however, the patient recovered while the surgeon was getting his saw filed, and was well enough last night to reconnoitre in force.

The Mackerel Brigade being still in quarters before Yorktown, I am at leisure to stroll about the Southern Confederacy, my boy; and on Thursday I paid a visit to Cotton Seminary, just beyond Alexandria, where the Southern intellect is taught to fructify and expand. This celebrated inst.i.tution of learning is all on one floor, with a large chimney and heavy mortgage upon it, and a number of windows supplied with ground gla.s.s--or, rather, supplied with a certain openness as regards the ground.

Upon entering this majestic edifice, the master, Prex Peyton, descended at once from the barrel on which he was seated, and gave me a true Virginian welcome:

"Though you may be a Lincoln horde," says he, in a manorial manner, "the republic of intellect recognizes you only as a man. The Southern mind knows how to recognize a soul apart from its outer circ.u.mstances; for what say the logicians? _Deus est anima brutorem!_ Take a seat on yonder barrel, friend Hessian, and you shall hear the wisdom of the youthful minds. First cla.s.s in computation stand up."

As I took a seat, my boy, the first cla.s.s in computation came to the front; and it is my private impression, my boy--my private impression--that each child's father was the owner of a rag plantation at some period of his life.

"Boys," says the master, "how is the table of Confederate money divided?"

"Into pounds, shillings, and pence."

"Right. Now, Master Mason, repeat the table."

Master Mason, who was a germ of a first family, took his fingers out of his mouth, and says he:

"Twenty pounds of Confederate bonds make one shilling, twenty shillings make one penny, six pennies one drink."

"That's right, my pretty little cherubs," says the master. "Now go and take your seats, and study your bowie-knife exercises. Cla.s.s in Geography, stand up."

The cla.s.s in geography consisted of one small Southern Confederacy, my boy, with a taste for tobacco.

"Master Wise," says the master, confidently, "can you tell us where Africa is?"

Master Wise sniffed intelligently, and says he:

"Africa is situated at the corner of Spruce and Na.s.sau streets, and is bounded on the north by Greeley, on the south by Slavery, on the east by Sumner, and on the west by Lovejoy."

"Very true, my bright little fellow," says the master; "now go back to your chawing."

"You see, friend Hessian," says the master, turning to me, "how much superior Southerners are, even as children, to the depraved Yankees. In my teaching experience, I have known scholars only six years old to play poker like old members of the church, and a pupil of mine euchred me once in ten minutes."

I thanked him for his courtesy, and was proceeding to the door, when I observed four boys in one corner, with their mouths so distorted that they seemed to have subsisted upon a diet of persimmons all their lives.

"Venerable pundit," says I, in astonishment, "how came the faces of those offspring so deformed?"

"O!" says the master, complacently, "that cla.s.s has been studying Carlyle's works."

I retired from Cotton Seminary, my boy, with a firm conviction of the utility of popular education, and a hope that the day might come when a Professorship of Old Sledge would be created in the New York University.

Yours, for a higher civilization,

ORPHEUS C. KERR.

LETTER XLII.

REVEALING A NEW BLOCKADING IDEA, INTRODUCING A GEOMETRICAL STEED, AND NARRATING THE WONDERFUL EXPLOITS OF THE MACKEREL SHARPSHOOTER AT YORKTOWN.