The profound Democratic chap came away, my boy, with a singing in his head, and has been so tremendously confused ever since, that he asked me this morning at Willard's, if I thought, that what we of war see is anything like what Thaddeus of Warsaw.
On Monday, while I was on my way to the Mackerel camp, before Paris, to be present at the usual Christmas song-singing and story-telling in the tent of Captain Villiam Brown, I met an affable young chap, driving a wagon, in which were some thousands of what appeared to be newly-printed circulars. I knew that the young chap came from a large printing-office in the lower part of the city, and says I:
"Tell me, my young Phæton, what have we here?"
The affable young chap closed one eye waggishly at a handy young woman who was cleaning the upper windows of a house near by, and says he:
"These here, are five thousand copies of a blank form, just printed down at our place for the State Department. And I should think," says the affable young chap, taking a dash at a small boy who had just "cut behind" his cart—"I should think that pile ought to last a month, at least, though the last one didn't."
I made bold to examine a copy of the blank form in question, my boy, and found it to read as follows:
"City of Washington, U.S.A.,}
Department of State. }
"Dear Sir:
"Permit me to beg you will inform the Government of ——, so admirably represented by you, that the Government of the United States entirely disapproves the action of the Commander of the ——, in the matter of —— ——, and will make whatever reparation may be deemed adequate therefor by the Government of ——.
"With the profoundest respect, I am your Excellency's most obedient humble servant, —— ——.