Thus, when Mr. Polk thunders from the Capitol, it is most likely not Mr. Polk's heart that utters such warlike notes of preparation, but Mr. Polk would never be re-elected, if he did not do as his rulers bid him do.
It may seem absurd enough, it is nevertheless true, that this political furor is carried into the most obscure walks of life, and the Americans themselves tell some good stories about it; while, at the same time, they constantly din your ears with "the destinies of the Great Republic," the absolute certainty of universal American dominion over the New World, and the rapid decay and downfall of the Old, which does not appear fitted to receive pure Democracy.[5]
They tell a good story of a political courtship in the "New York Mercury," as decidedly one of the best things introduced in a late political campaign:—
"Inasmuch," says the editor, "as all the States hereabouts have concluded their labours in the presidential contest, we think we run no risk of upsetting the constitution, or treading upon the most fastidious toe in the universe, by affording our readers the same hearty laugh into which we were betrayed.
"Jonathan walks in, takes a seat and looks at Sukey; Sukey rakes up the fire, blows out the candle, and don't look at Jonathan. Jonathan hitches and wriggles about in his chair, and Sukey sits perfectly still. At length he musters courage and speaks—
"'Sewkey?'
"'Wall, Jon-nathan?'
"'I love you like pizan and sweetmeats?'
"'Dew tell.'
"'It's a fact and no mistake—wi—will—now—will you have me—Sew—ky?'