“The noble dead uv Kentucky—them ez fell pintin their guns north we’ll alluz remember.”
“Our returned soljers—beaten, but not conkered.”
“Niggers and northern Dimocrisey—we’ve lost the first; thank God, the latter is ours forever.”
I hevn’t time nor space to give, in full, the perceedins uv the evenin. Suffice it to say, at 12, precisely, the company broke up, and sich uv em ez were able, departed. I remained. There wuz suthin in the refreshments wich indoost me to stay; in fact, I coodn’t conveniently get out from under the table, where I hed fallen.
While peacefully sleepin the sleep uv innosence, my unfettered sole went orf on a explorin expedishen into the land uv dreams, and I dreamed.
Methawt that we wuz celebratin the anniversary uv the battle uv Noo Orleans, on a heavier skale than the wun just closed. We hed, at our festive board, all the grate lites uv Dimocrisy. There wuz Fernandy Wood and his brother Ben, and Dan Voorhes, and the grate Valandigum and Frank Peerce, and Bookanon hed consented to emerge from his saint-like retirement, and meet with us. The South wuz represented by sich noble Dimocrats ez Yancy, and Toombs, and Wigfall; in short, it wuz a reyoonyun uv old-time Dimocrats, met not only to honor the memry uv Jackson, but to consult ez to the best method uv savin the yoonyun from the rox uv Abolishun onto wich it seems now to be driftin.
The gileless Bookanon wuz President uv the evenin, and Breckinridge Vice President, and toasts wuz drank ez follows:—
“The ancient Dimocrisy—troo to the country, ez long ez there is an office to be filled.”
Response by Fernandy Wood.
“The President uv the evenin—the last Dimocratic President uv the Yoonited States.”