Plant patent earthquakes in each foreign hole!
Shout havoc, murder, victory, and spoils,
Till all creation crouches in our toils!
Then, when the world to our behest is bent,
And takes the Herald for its punishment,
We'll pin our banner to a comet's tail,
And shake the Heavens with a big 'All Hail!'"
That's the spirit of America, my boy, taken with nutmeg on top, and a hollow straw. Very good for invalids.
Next to the question concerning the capacity of gunboats for the sweet-potato trade, my boy, the great topic of the day is the capture of Slidell and Mason, whose arrest so pleased the colonel of the Mackerel Brigade, that he got up at nine o'clock in the morning to tell the President about it.
In the year 1776, my boy, this Slidell sold candles in New York, and was born about two years after the marriage of the elder Slidell. While he was yet a young man, he went much into female society, and at length offered his hand to a lady. Her father being a male, gave his consent to the match, and on the day of the wedding, there was a fire in the Seventh Ward. Since that time, Slidell has been a married man, and was much respected until he got into the Senate. I get these facts from a friend of the family, who has a set of silver spoons engraved with the name of Slidell.