The American Union Speaker

by John D. Philbrick

CCCLIII.

FUSS AT FIRES.

It having been announced to me, my young friends, that you were about forming a fire-company, I have called you together to give you such directions as long experience in a first-quality engine company qualifies me to communicate. The moment you hear an alarm of fire, scream like a pair of panthers. Run any way, except the right way,—for the furthest way round is the nearest way to the fire. If you happen to run on the top of a wood-pile, so much the better; you can then get a good view of the neighborhood. If a light breaks on your view, "break" for it immediately; but be sure you don't jump into a bow window. Keep yelling, all the time; and, if you can't make night hideous enough yourself, kick all the dogs you come across, and set them yelling, too; 't will help amazingly. A brace of cats dragged up stairs by the tail would be a "powerful auxiliary." When you reach the scene of the fire, do all you can to convert it into a scene of destruction. Tear down all the fences in the vicinity. If it be a chimney on fire, throw salt down it; or if you can't do that, perhaps the best plan would be to jerk off the pump-handle and pound it down. Don't forget to yell, all the while, as it will have a prodigious effect in frightening off the fire. The louder the better, of course; and the more ladies in the vicinity, the greater necessity for "doing it brown." Should the roof begin to smoke, get to work in good earnest, and make any man "smoke" that interrupts you. If it is summer, and there are fruit-trees in the lot, cut them down, to prevent the fire from roasting the apples. Don't forget to yell! Should the stable be threatened, carry out the cow-chains. Never mind the horse,—he'll be alive and kicking; and if his legs don't do their duty, let them pay for the roast. Ditto as to the hogs,—let them save their own bacon, or smoke for it. When the roof begins to burn, get a crow-bar and pry away the stone steps; or, if the steps be of wood, procure an axe and chop them up. Next, cut away the wash-boards in the basement story; and if that don't stop the flames, let the chair-boards on the first floor share a similar fate. Should the "devouring element" still pursue the "even tenor of its way," you had better ascend to the second story. Pitch out the pitchers, and tumble out the tumblers. Yell all the time!

If you find a baby a-bed, fling it into the second story window of the house across the way; but let the kitten carefully down in a work-basket. Then draw out the bureau drawers, and empty their contents out of the back window; telling somebody below to upset the slop-barrel and rain-water hogshead at the same time. Of course, you will attend to the mirror. The further it can be thrown, the more pieces will be made. If anybody objects, smash it over his head. Do not, under any circumstances, drop the tongs down from the second story; the fall might break its legs, and render the poor thing a cripple for life. Set it straddle of your shoulder, and carry it down carefully. Pile the bedclothes carefully on the floor, and throw the crockery out of the window. By the time you will have attended to all these things, the fire will certainly be arrested, or the building be burnt down. In either case, your services will be no longer needed; and, of course, you require no further directions. Anonymous.

CCCLIV.

MR. PEPPERAGE'S PERORATION.

The Union! Inspiring theme! How shall I find words to describe its momentous magnificence and its beatific lustre? The Union!—it is the ark of our safety!—the palladium of our liberties!—the safeguard of our happiness!—and the ægis of our virtues! In the Union we live and move and go ahead It watches over us at our birth—it fans us in our cradles—it accompanies us to the district school—it gives us our victuals in due season—it selects our wives for us from "America's fair daughters," and it does a great many other things; to say nothing of putting us to sleep sometimes, and keeping the flies from our innocent repose.

While the Union lasts, we have the most remarkable prospect of plenty of fodder, with occasional drinks. By its beneficent energies, however, should the present supply give out, we shall rise superior to the calculations of an ordinary and narrow prudence, and take in Cuba, Hayti, and Mexico, and such parts of all contiguous islands as may offer prospects for an advantageous investment.

Palsied be the arm, then, and blistered the tongue, and humped the back, and broken the legs, and eviscerated the stomach, of every person who dares to think, or even dream of harming it! May the heaviest curses of time fall upon his scoundrelly soul! May his juleps curdle in his mouth. May he smoke none but New Orleans tobacco! May his family be perpetually ascending the Mississippi in a steamboat! May his own grandmother disown him! And may the suffrages of his fellow-citizens pursue him like avenging furies, till he is driven howling into Congress. For oh! my dear, dear friends—my beloved fellow-citizens, who can foretell the agonies, or the sorrows, or the blights, and the anguish, and the despair, and the black eyes, and the bloody noses, that would follows upon the dispersion of our too happy, happy family.

The accursed myrmidons of despotism, with gnashing teeth and blood-stained eyes, would rush at large over the planet. They would lap the crimson gore of the most respectable and wealthy citizens. The sobs of females, and the screams of children, would mingle with the bark of dogs and the crash of falling columns. A universal and horrid night would mantle the skies, and one by one, the strong pillars of the universe go crumbling into ruin, amid the gleam of bowie-knives and the lurid glare of exploding steamboats. Anonymous.