You Greenbackers are like the old woman in the Tewksbury, Mass.,
Poor-House. She used to be well off, and didn't like her quarters. You
Greenbackers have left your father's house of many mansions and have fed
on shucks about long enough. The Supervisor came into the Poor-House one
day and asked the old lady how she liked it. She said she didn't like
the company, and asked him what he would advise her to do under similar
circumstances. "Oh, you'd better stay. You're prejudiced," said he.
"Do you think anybody is ever prejudiced in their sleep?" asked the
old lady. "I had a dream the other night. I dreamed I died and went to
Heaven. Lots of nice people were there. A nice man came to me and asked
me where I was from. Says I, 'From Tewksbury, Mass.' He looked in his
book and said, 'You can't stay here.' "I asked what he would advise me
to do under similar circumstances." 'Well,' he said, 'there's hell down
there, you might try that.' "Well, I went down there, and the men told
me my name wasn't on the book and I couldn't stay there. 'Well,' said I,
'What would you advise me to do under similar circumstances?' 'Said he,
'You'll have to go back to Tewksbury.' And when Green-backers remember
what they once were, you must feel now, when you were forced to join
the Democratic party, as bad as the old lady who had to go back to
Tewksbury.