They ain't nut quite enough so to rebel, | But, when they fin' it's costly to raise h-, [A groan from Deac'n G.] Why, then, for jes' the same superl'tive reason, They're 'most too much so to be tetched for treason; They can't go out, but ef they somehow du, Their sovereignty don't noways go out tu; The State goes out, the sovereignty don't stir, But stays to keep the door ajar for her. He thinks secession never took 'em out, An' mebby he's correc', but I misdoubt; Ef they war n't out, then why, 'n the name o' sin, Make all this row 'bout lettin' of 'em in? In law, p'r'aps nut; but there's a diffurence, ruther, Betwixt your mother-'n-law an' real mother, [Derisive cheers.] An' I, for one, shall wish they'd all been som'eres, Long 'z U. S. Texes are sech reg'lar Ez for dependin' on their oaths an' thet, 't wun't bind 'em mor'n the ribbin roun' my het; I heared a fable once from Othniel Starns, That pints it slick ez weathercocks do barns: Onet on a time the wolves hed certing rights Inside the fold; they used to sleep there nights. An', bein' cousins o' the dogs, they took Their turns et watchin', reg'lar ez a book; But somehow, when the dogs hed gut asleep, Their love o' mutton beat their love o' sheep, Till gradilly the shepherds come to see Things war n't agoin' ez they'd ough' to be; So they sent off a deacon to remonstrate Along 'th the wolves an' urge 'em to go on straight; They did n' seem to set much by the deacon, Nor preachin' did n' cow 'em, nut to speak on; Fin'ly they swore thet they'd go out an' stay, An' hev their fill o' mutton every day; Then dogs an' shepherds, after much hard dammin', [Groan from Deac'n G.] Turned tu an' give 'em a tormented lammin', An' sez, "Ye sha' n't go out, the mur rain rot ye, To keep us wastin' half our time to watch ye!" But then the question come, How live together 'thout losin' sleep, nor nary yew nor wether? Now there wuz some dogs (noways wuth their keep) That sheered their cousins' tastes an' sheered the sheep; They sez, "Be gin'rous, let 'em swear right in, An', ef they backslide, let 'em swear ag'in ; Thet 's the best prectice," sez a shepherd gray; "Ez for their oaths they wun't be wuth a button, Long 'z you don't cure 'em o' their taste for mutton; Th' ain't but one solid way, howe'er you puzzle: Tell they're convarted, let 'em wear a muzzle." [Cries of "Bully for you!"] I've noticed thet each half-baked scheme's abetters Are in the hebbit o' producin' letters Writ by all sorts o' never-heared-on fellers, 'bout ez oridge'nal ez the wind in bel lers; I've noticed, tu, it's the quack med'- | War's emptin's riled her very dough cine gits An' made it rise an' act improper; (An' needs) the grettest heaps o' stiffy-'t wuz full ez much ez I could du kits; [Two apothekeries goes out.] To jes' lay low an' worry thru, Now, sence I lef' off creepin' on all fours, 'thout hevin' to sell out my copper. I hain't ast no man to endorse my course; It's full ez cheap to be your own endor But I've some letters here from t' other side, An' them's the sort thet helps me to decide; Tell me for wut the copper-comp'nies hanker, anchor. "Afore the war your mod'rit men [Groan from Deac'n G.] "Ask Mac ef tryin' to set the fence An' I'll tell you jest where it's safe to nights, Which wuz th' ole homestead, which the temp'ry leanto; Et fust he jedged 't would right-side-up his pan 66 To come out ez a 'ridge'nal Union man, so fresh ; And tryin' to think thet, on the whole, [Three cheers for Grant and Sherman.] "Come peace, I sposed thet folks 'ould like Their pol'tics done ag'in by proxy gone, An' there's gret resk they 'll blunder on, "We've gut an awful row to hoe But one thing 's clear; there is a crack, "No white man sets in airth's broad Thet I ain't willin' t' own ez brother, [Applause.] "Wut is there lef' I'd like to know, Ef 't ain't the difference o' color, Reapin' the spiles o' the Freesiler, Thet tells the story! Thet's wut we shall git By tryin' squirtguns on the burnin' Pit; An' seems to say, "Why died we? war n't it, then, Caleb, a turncoat. Cal'late, calculate. Cass, a person with two lives. Close, clothes. Cockerel, a young cock. Cocktail, a kind of drink; also, an ornament peculiar to soldiers. Convention, a place where people are imposed on; a juggler's show. Coons, a cant term for a now defunct party; derived, perhaps, from the fact of their being commonly up a tree. Cornwallis, a sort of muster in masquerade; supposed to have had its origin soon after the Revolution, and to commemorate the surrender of Lord Cornwallis. It took the place of the old Guy Fawkes procession. Crooked stick, a perverse, froward person. Cunnle, a colonel. Cus, a curse; also, a pitiful fellow. D. Darsn't, used indiscriminately, either in singular or plural number, for dare not, dares not, and dared not. Deacon off, to give the cue to; derived from a custom, once universal, but now extinct, in our New England Congregational churches. An important part of the office of deacon was |