Cries from the crowd, “We hev! we hev!”
“You, when smitten on the right cheek, turned unto the oppressor the left.”
“We did! we did!”
“You are beyond all question models—I may say with truth, paragons of patience, long-suffering, and humility. You are—Christian gentlemen!” “We air! we air!”
While this was passing, a great gloomy thundercloud of the Democratic enemy gathered on the opposite sidewalk, and as the Colonel lifted his voice again, there came a cry—
“Shut up, you d---d old Republican dead-duck!”
That word was a spell to raise the devil withal. Bang! bang! bang! went the revolvers of the Union men in a volley, and the Democrats fled for their lives down Seventh Street, pursued by the meek, lowly, and long-suffering Christians—like rabbits before wolves.
The enemy at last resolved to attack the Press and burn the building. Then we had one hundred and fifty policemen sent to garrison and guard. There was a surging, howling mob outside, and much guerilla-shooting, but all I can remember is my vexation at having so much to disturb me in making up the paper.
I never went armed in my life when I could help it, for I
hate impedimenta in my pockets. All of us in the office hung up our coats in a dark place outside. Whenever I sent an assistant to get some papers from mine, he said that he always knew my coat because there was no pistol in it.