"Kernel Doolittle: I can't begin to express to you the feelins of my hart. This occashin is techin. Sojers can't make speeches. I've dun my duty. I've seen the cannons roar. I've heard the flash of a thousand rifles all at once. There ain't nothin that can equal it for rite down tall sublimity. But, feller-citizens, we ought to be most rejoiced now because freedom is going it at such big licks. I'me a manifest destiny man. I believe freedom is to extend from the frozen planes of Alabama to the sunny banks of Newfoundland. There ain't nothin kin stop it. It is comin like an avalanche from the eternal hills of Giberalter. Freedom! freedom! will resound from creashin come to pullin turnip time, an all the hopples that bind the legs of American citizens of Afriken 'scent will fall off. Them's my sentiments, and I don't keer who knows 'em. The old Union ain't of any more ackount in these 'ere times than an iron pot with a hole in the bottom. Wat we want is a new Union which will have for its motto the celebrated words of Daniel Webster, 'Freedom and niggers—now and forever—one and inspirable.'"
"Amen," yelled out Deacon Jenkins, who had been listenin' attentively, as the Kernel sat down, and the hull audience broke out into the most tumultuous applause. There is a little mistake in Kernel Doolittle's speech, where he speaks of Kernel Stebbins being covered with the dust an blood of the battle-field. Now, the truth was, the Kernel, with his new uniform, looked as if he had jest cum out of a band-box, but Kernel Doolittle had his speech writ out, an he couldn't alter it. Kernel Stebbins got on such high hosses, that he talked about seeing the boomin' of cannon an hearin' the flash of guns, but the truth was, he didn't know exactly what he said an the people were so carried away with havin' a live Kernel among them, that they didn't notice it. There ain't been nothin' talked of in Downingville sence the Kernel's return, except his recepshin. Elder Sniffles preached a sarmon on it, takin' for his text "There shall be wars an rumors of wars," an provin from the Bible that war is the duty of all real, genuine Christians. So, you see, there ain't a more loyal place in the country, unless it be Washinton, where all the office-holders an contractors live. But I must close. I did't expect to write you but a few lines this time. If I go to Washington, I will let you into the secrete of the Blair and Chase rumpus, an keep you posted up ginerally on things behind the curtin."
Yours, till deth,
Majer Jack Downing.
LETTER XXVII.
The Major Starts for Washington—Takes his Axe with him—Mr. Lincoln glad to see him—The Cabinet in Session—The opinion of Seward, Chase, Stanton and others—The Major called on for an opinion—The Story of Old Sam Odum—Mr. Stanton gets Excited.
Washington, Nov. 6, 1863.
To the Editers of The Dabook:
The very next day after I writ you my last letter, I got one from Linkin, tellin me I must cum on without fail. He said he was in a peck of trubbil about his messige—that Chase an Seward were pullin rite in contrary direcshins, an what to do he didn't know. So I jest packed up my things, took my pipe in my mouth an my old hickery in my hand, and started. I strapped my axe on the outside of my trunk, for this is the only weepin, besides my hickory cane, that I ever carry. Goin down to the cars I met Deacon Jenkins, who went on to Washinton, you recollect, to make the Kernel's sojer clothes, an ses he, "Majer, what are you takin your axe with you to Washinton for?" "Wal," ses I, "Deacon, I expect I shall get awful, tarin mad with them Abolitionists this winter in Washinton, an ther ain't eny way that I kin work off a fit of that kind except by goin out to the wood-house an choppin wood. So I determined to take along my axe. It is one the old Ginneral used when he got mad, an I have always preserved it to remember him, ef nothin else."