"Am I addressing the Democratic Organization?"
"You address the large Kentucky branch," says the Conservative chap, pulling out his ruffles.
"Then," says the Confederacy, "I am prepared to make an indirect proposition for peace. My name is Mr. Lamb, by which title the Democratic Organization has always known the injured Confederacy, and I propose the following terms: Hostilities shall at once cease, and the two armies be consolidated under the title of the Confederate States Forces. The war-debts of the North and South shall be so united that the North may be able to pay them without confusion. An election for a new President shall at once be held, everybody voting save those who have shown animosity to the sunny South. France shall be driven out of Mexico by the consolidated armies, the expense being so managed that the North may pay it without further trouble. Upon these terms, the Confederacy will become a peaceful fellow-man."
"Hem!" says the Kentucky chap, "What you ask is perfectly reasonable. I will consider the matter after the manner of a dispassionate Democrat, and return you my answer in a few days."
Here I hastily stepped up, and says I, "But are you not going to consult the President at all about it, my Jupiter Tonans?"
"The President? the President?" says the Conservative Kentucky chap, with a vague look. "Hem!" says he, "I really forgot all about the President!"
The Democratic Organization, my boy, in its zeal to benefit its distracted country, is occasionally like that eminent fire company in the Sixth Ward, which nobly usurped with its hose the terrible business of putting out a large conflagration, and never remembered, until its beautiful machine was all in position, that another company of fellow-firemen had exclusive possession of all the waterworks.
Yours, comparingly,
Orpheus C. Kerr.