The schoolmaster proposed we should git up a mass meetin'. The meetin' was largely attended. We held it in the open air round a roarin' bonfire.
The schoolmaster was the first orator. He's pretty good on the speak. He also writes well, his composition bein' seldom marred by ingrammatticisms. He said this inactivity surprised him. "What do you expect will come of this kind of doin's? Nihil fit—"
"Hooray for Nihil!" I interrupted. "Fellow-citizens, let's giv three cheers for Nihil, the man who fit!"
The schoolmaster turned a little red, but repeated—Nihil fit.
"Exactly," I said. "Nihil fit. He wasn't a strategy feller."
"Our venerable friend," said the schoolmaster, smilin' pleasantly, "isn't posted in Virgil."
"No, I don't know him. But if he's a able-bodied man he must stand his little draft."
The schoolmaster wound up in eloquent style, and the subscriber took the stand.
I said the crisis had not only cum itself, but it had brought all its relations. It has cum, I said, with a evident intention of makin' us a good long visit. It's goin' to take off its things and stop with us. My wife says so too. This is a good war. For those who like this war, it's just such a kind of war as they like. I'll bet ye. My wife says so too. If the Federal army succeeds in takin' Washington, and they seem to be advancin' that way pretty often, I shall say it is strategy, and Washington will be safe. And that noble banner, as it were—that banner, as it were—will be a emblem, or rather, I should say, that noble banner—as it were. My wife says so too. [I got a little mixed up here, but they didn't notice it. Keep mum.] Feller citizens, it will be a proud day for this Republic when Washington is safe. My wife says so too.
The editor of the Bugle-Horn of Liberty here arose and said: "I do not wish to interrupt the gentleman, but a impertant despatch has just bin received at the telegraph office here. I will read it. It is as follows: Gov'ment is about to take vigorous measures to put down the rebellion! [Loud applause.]