'The Kansas John Brown Song,' which lately appeared in these columns, and which we credited to the Kansas Herald—following the lead of the newspaper where we found it—was written by the Rev. William W. Patton, of Chicago, for the Tribune of that city.
Though so often trampled down by the heel of patriotism, the old serpent of treason and disunion still keeps lifting his head and hissing venomously. In New-York, Fernando Wood—that incarnation of Northern secession—the man who dared to issue a proclamation recommending the inhabitants of the city of which he was mayor to go off with the South, is plotting and planning (unpunished, of course) with spirits of kindred baseness, to build up the old order and reestablish the rule of corruption. At Washington, all the timid, time-serving, and place-hoping members of Congress have been holding 'Conservative' meetings, at which the most insolent or timid propositions have been put forth; some of the traitors manifesting clear as day their undisguised sympathy for the rebels, others speaking only to preserve their tattered characters as Unionists. The upshot of all was given in a resolution that Congress has no power to deprive a person of his property, unless that person has been duly convicted by a trial by jury.
We are not through the war as yet. Possibly, ere the end come, the country may have something to say as to the propriety of our representatives holding meetings to protect and favor rebels in their 'rights.'
What's in a name? There was a great puzzle once in one name, as appeareth from the following:
Dear Sir: In a certain village not unknown to you, dwelleth one Alwright.
It is a good thing to have a good name. His, you observe, is 'petter as goot.'
Not long ago, A. went to an auction and bought things.
'What name, sir?' inquired the man with the hammer.
'Alwright.'