When a captain leaves his lady-fair nowadays, my boy, he's not an economical man if he don't destroy his life-insurance policy, and defer making his will.
Yours, navally,
Orpheus C. Kerr.
LETTER LI.
GIVING DUE PROMINENCE ONCE MORE TO THE CONSERVATIVE ELEMENT, NOTING A CAT-AND-DOG AFFAIR, AND REPORTING CAPTAIN BOB SHORTY'S FORAGING EXPEDITION.
Washington, D.C., June 23d, 1862.
Not wishing to expire prematurely of inanity, my boy, I started again last Sunday for Paris, where I took up my quarters with a dignified conservative chap from the Border States, who came on for the express purpose of informing the Executive that Kentucky is determined this war shall be carried on without detriment to the material interests of the South, otherwise Kentucky will not be answerable for herself. Kentucky has married into the South, and has relations there which she refuses to sacrifice. What does the Constitution say about Kentucky? Why, it don't say anything about her. "Which is clear proof," says the conservative chap, violently, "that Kentucky is expected to take care of herself. Kentucky," says he, buttoning his vest over the handle of his bowie-knife. "Kentucky will stand no nonsense whatsomever."
I have much respect for Kentucky, my boy; they play a good hand of Old Sledge there, and train up a child in the way he should go fifty better; but Kentucky reminds me of a chap I once knew in the Sixth Ward. This chap hired a room with another chap, and the two were engaged in the dollar-jewelry business. Their stock in trade was more numerous than valuable, my boy, and a man couldn't steal it without suffering a most painful swindle; but the two dilapidaries were all the time afraid of thieves; and at last, when a gentleman of suspicious aspect moved into the lower part of the house, and flavored his familiar conversation with such terms as "swag," "kinchin," and "coppers," the second chap insisted upon buying a watch-dog. The first chap said he didn't like dogs, but if his partner thought they'd better have one, he would not object to his buying it. The second chap bought a sausagacious animal in white and yellow, my boy—an animal covered with bark that pealed off in large pieces all night long. The first chap found he couldn't sleep much, and says he:
"If you don't kill that ere stentorian beast we'll have to dissolve pardnership."