Yours, in bachelordliness,
Orpheus C. Kerr.
LETTER XLVI.
WHEREIN IS SHOWN HOW THE GENERAL OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE FOLLOWED AN ILLUSTRIOUS EXAMPLE, AND VETOED A PROCLAMATION. ALSO RECORDING A MILITARY EXPERIMENT WITH RELIABLE CONTRABANDS.
Washington, D.C., May 20th, 1862.
Rejoice with me, my boy, that I have got back my gothic steed, Pegasus, from the Government chap who borrowed him for a desk. The splendid architectural animal has just enough slant from his back-bone to his hips to make a capital desk, my boy; and then his tail is so handy to wipe pens on. In a moment of thirst he swallowed a bottle of ink, and some fears were entertained for his life; but a gross of steel pens and a ream of blotting paper, immediately administered, caused him to come out all write. In a gothic sense, my boy, the charger continues to produce architectural illusions. He was standing on a hill-side the other day, with his rear-elevation toward the spectators, his head up and ears touching at the top, when a chap, who has been made pious by frequent conversation with the contrabands, noticed him afar off, and says he to a soldier, "What church is that I behold in the distance, my fellow-worm of the dust?" The military veteran looked, and says he, "It does look like a church; but it's only a animated hay-rack belonging to the cavalry."
"I see," says the pious chap, moving on; "the beast looks like a church, because he's been accustomed to steeple-chases."
I have also much satisfaction in the society of my dog, Bologna, my boy, who has already become so attached to me that I believe he would defend me against any amount of meat. Like the Old Guard of France, he's always around the bony parts thrown; and, like a bon vivant, is much given to whining after his dinner.
The last time I was at Paris, my boy, this interesting animal made a good breakfast off the calves of the General of the Mackerel Brigade's legs, causing that great strategetical commander to issue enough oaths for the whole Southern Confederacy.