CHAPTER XXVII.--Smooth settles all International Difficulties, and

proposes maintaining the very best Understanding

with John Bull

ADVENTURES

OF

MY COUSIN SMOOTH.

SOME PARTICULARS RESPECTING COUSIN SMOOTH

No uncommon type of our "Young America" is Mister Solomon Smooth, the

individual whose part in these sketches was performed for General

Pierce in particular, and "Uncle Sam" in general. Mr. Smooth was born

and "growed" on the extreme south point of Cape Cod--a seemingly

desolate spot, yet somewhat renowned as the birthplace of Long Tom

Coffin. If I would select one of our nation's 'cutest sons; if I were

called upon to name the kind of man with that in his natural

composition to make the safest, shrewdest, and most calculating

merchant; if I were called to pass judgment on the man most qualified

to sustain the spirit and characteristics of the American nation

abroad--one who would never betray our national energy, nor degrade

his profession, nor fail to seek that which might promote the

interests of those who reposed trust in him, at the same time never

forgetting his own--if I were about forming an expedition, and would

provide myself with that character of man upon whom the issue of its

success most depends; if, I say, I would seek the man possessing those

rigid qualities of a moral nature which are a sure protection against

doing aught that may degrade the councils of a nation, I would make

this sandy cape my starting point, and draw from the upward growth of

that stern energy to be found among those flourishing, energetic, and

intelligent communities embraced within that circle which terminates

at Cape Ann, and between the circling arms of which two capes heaves

Boston Bay. But Smooth, though somewhat primitive in his personal

appearance, is none of your common Cape Cod coasters, such as your

Captain Doanes, and Cooks, and Ryders, and Clapps. Not he! So slender

of person is he, that there can be no particular impropriety in our

drawing a comparison between him and that peculiar type of per son

commonly called a Virginian bean-pole. Nor, when he gets himself (as

is not uncommon with him) "all over" native brown homespun, does his

configuration materially change, there yet remaining, and boldly

refusing to be disguised, that face so full of penetration, and those

features so sharp. The waggishly inclined have identified them with

the wizardry of dividing storm currents. Nevertheless, of this lean

conformation, which is better within than the world without is in

general willing to admit, is Smooth particularly proud. In manner,

Smooth is piquant; and being an acknowledged member of the fast

school--that is, a disciple of manifest destiny in particular and

Model Republics in general--he accepts the mission so kindly proffered

him by his unfortunate friend, Mr. General Pierce, and has no

objection to giving the world and kingcraft (the latter rudderless,

and drifting on those quicksands of common sense which it were well

for nations had they proved destructive centuries ago) a few lessons

in the go-ahead principle. What Smooth means to convey by the go-ahead

principle, is simply that when common sense triumphs universal in a

nation, sycophantism dies, and with it that pest of peoples,

kingcraft! So, with the most amiable intentions, does Solomon set out

for Washington, to have a first talk with General Pierce: this talk he

hopes will be a prelude to putting straight the nationalities now

drifting on the rock of intrigue, without that safety-valve which a

people fully conscious of enjoying their rights can give. And while

thus employed, Smooth does not forget that it is a well laid down rule

that many small Presidents may talk very large and yet cut very

ridiculous figures: hence his first talk with Mr. Pierce, who is well

known for general and very respectable characteristics, may be

productive of great good to mankind in a mass. In New England

educated, (that land where niggers may be white men, and white men too

often turn niggers), loving universal rights, peace to consolidate a

nation's good, and keep down that martial spirit which is its

cankering curse--being tenacious of freedom in its broadest

acceptation, and commercial prosperity with a general diffusion of its

results, it is Mr. Smooth's candid opinion that ere another century

rolls into the page of time America will whip, feed, civilize, and

republicanize the great American continent. Could this be done at an

earlier period, so much the better for mankind in general. Smooth was

borne out in this opinion from the fact that Europe had got into a

great fuzzle, the result of which was an equally great fight. Kingdoms

and empires had become disordered, their craft was stranded;

potentates were turning their people into minions of slaughter.

Nicholas (modest god of all the Russias) thought his murdering a few

thousands an act most pious: it was all for the sake of Christianity

and a very small holy _rite!_ On the other hand, there was Mister John

Bull, so dogged at times, and yet so hard to hold once his propensity

for fighting somebody was excited, hurling very unchristian lead and

steel into. Nicholas's subtle-headed serfs. But the thing most

wondrous was, that Uncle John, now foaming with the fever of war, had

got Johnny Crappo at his back instead of his belly--a fact that would

be recorded on the strangest page of history. Strange fighting

companions were they; but as pig and dog do now and then become

bed-fellows, who can give too much expression to his surprise at this

strange Anglo-French combination? Let the world say what it will with

reference to our worthy friend Uncle John fighting the battle of

Mohamedanism--let it lay at his door the grave charge of degrading

himself by seeking to make firm the rotten props of one of the most

debased governments that has stained the history of the world with its

crimes, John will humanely acknowledge the charge while forwarding to

Turkey a copious edition of his "Society for Promoting Christian

Knowledge."

We hope with Mr. Smooth, that Master Bull and Cousin Jonathan may war

only in words. Both are sensible gentlemen; both are keenly alive to

that inspiration called fighting for one's rights; both are for ever

finding a small bone to snarl over; but peace is found the greater

bone, which, by preserving, affords the best picking. Indeed, we must

all admit, that if polite diplomatists and small politicians had their

way, their naughty recriminations would give us plenty of war, with

only bows and smiles to pay for the blood and treasure wasted. But

Mr. Bull is considerate with his power; while Jonathan shrewdly

calculates how much being embroiled in war will disturb his tin

business. May our discretion continue to form the best defence against

war between the most enlightened governments of christendom.

At home our negro question bids very fair to get political parties

into an interminable snarl; which said snarl is made worse by the

singular hopes of those having friends who would like to be next

President of the United States. The "white house," (that shrine of

patriotic worship!) having its avenues strongly bolted and barred with

formidable niggers from Virginia and Carolina, has become a mammon of

faith before which politicians are making sad niggers of themselves.

Mr. Solomon Smooth lamented this; and, in order to ascertain what

could be done in the way of finding a remedy, he determined to plainly

introduce the matter during his first talk with General Pierce;--in a

word, to see what could be done in the way of straightening things ere

he tried the quality of his cigars and Bourbouin whiskey, a large

stock of which the General was known to keep on hand. The party to

which Mr. Smooth belonged, "Young America," enrolled among its numbers

many young gentlemen whose spirits were fast, and young ladies whose

talents were fast increasing; hence it was that he was a firm believer

in the elastic principles of a go-ahead government: such an one,

albeit, as would republicanize Russia, knock Austria into a smash, or

make her declare herself something--revolutionize Europe in general,

and in particular teach kings of the christian faith how very

unchristian it is to wage savage wars. In addition to this, he would

have the world in general more enlightened, and kings made to know

that their highest duty was to mould their conduct after the example

of good citizens. Were this not enough, he would go for annexing to

these "United States" all the rest of creation; Mexico and Central

America in particular, to aid which object he would have the moon

perform a specific part on behalf of manifest destiny.

The reader must remember that our hero Smooth is a man most

unpolished, though never so bad as he seems. But we will let him speak

for himself, and as his letters are addressed to Uncle Sam, of course

those may read who will.

_Enough from the Editor_.

WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C.,

JUNE, 1855.

CHAPTER I.

MR. SOLOMON SMOOTH IN WASHINGTON.

"Dear Uncle--Once upon a time you were called Sam; but now that the

reign of Pierce is upon us it is difficult to tell what you may not be

called. Not long since you were the son of greatness, you are now the

shadow of Pierce--the man whose little light posterity will snuff

out. I have thought of you frequently, Uncle: I have seen you in

sorrow looking back upon the past, and my heart has beat with sympathy

as I saw you contrast it with the present. Once patriotism stood on

manly feet, now Bunkam reigns. Politics are turned into drum-sticks,

parties are lost for want of a policy, principles are buried in the

market-place. Mr. Smooth has been long accustomed to hard knocks and

crooked places; but anything so crooked as Mr. Pierce staggers his

digestion. If the concentrated wisdom of the nation riots here

(thought I as I entered the city) who can gainsay my coming? I knew

the atmosphere I entered had foul malaria in it; the city I found as

straight as the face of parties on the other hand was deformed. But

being in the federal city, I became forcibly impressed with the fact,

that your smallest man has the largest expectations, though he will

not object to become the nation's drone. Having made this wonderful

discovery, I took up my line of march for the National Hotel, a

gorgeous palace where an uncouth million meet to revel in cheap

luxury. So large was the house that a pilot to guide me through its

thousand galleries to bed was an indispensable necessity. I was

fatigued, and cared not where I hung up. Large as was the

establishment, everything looked so costly that I became cautious lest

what I sat down upon might become soiled, in which event I might be

compelled to pay the shot with a short locker; or, should the case go

before Pierce, he might in the profundity of his wisdom exile me to

some remote spot on the Mosquito coast. I walked into the

establishment like one who feels himself an independent citizen, and

then commenced looking at the place and the people, as the people

commenced looking at me. Returning looks, and question-asking, seemed

the fashion. 'Stranger!' said a well dressed but rather inquisitive

individual, 'you must, to be anybody in this place, smother yourself

in dignity, and eat dough-nuts of Southern make. Large quantities of

this diet are made now at the White House; in fact Pierce has turned

the establishment into a factory, where that article is manufactured

_ad libitum_, and all are expected to eat.' I thought the person who

thus accosted me had large experience of matters in general, for he

gave me a slanting wink and a cunning nudge, which I rendered into an

insinuation to stand treat. I affected not to understand him, and

edging aside a pace, made a bold effort to gain the long and very

expensive mahogany counter that stretched half across the office, and

behind which glowed out the figure of a fat citizen, whom I stared

right in the face. You cannot get cleverly through this world without

brass; if in your face you have enough to establish a foundery, so

much the better. It is indispensable in political matters; and,

whether right or wrong, the reader can best judge. I have thought the

smaller the politician, the larger were his dealings in the article.

No one could be more cautious how they scandalized their neighbours

than I am; this, Uncle Sam, you well know; but I question the policy

of being delicate during the reign of Pierce, whose cabinet recalls to

my mind the story of the clacking hen, that forever kept up a noise

without laying one egg. To make your way in Washington, you must storm

and put to route a whole platform of valiant gentlemen, who have

become political images in brass. As they love you, Uncle Sam, so also

would they live upon you, die upon you, be buried at your expense, and

their friends be very angry were you not a mourner at the

funeral. This I, Smooth, declare an honest fact, notwithstanding the

high respect I entertain for all those patriotic gentlemen who would

take such care of my Uncle's affairs.

"Now, this very phlegmatic and good natured citizen, who stood: behind

the mahogany, had a face as broad and placid as a town-clock seen by

moonlight. His figure, too, was tightly driven into a suit of

extravagant cloth, and altogether presented the appearance of having

quite recently escaped from the hands of James, his tailor. It was not

in the power of man to analyze his character from what he said, for

what he said meant nothing, when judged by the world's wisdom; but you

saw that James had succeeded in making him in love with himself.

Should he chance to read this imperfect sketch, he will excuse me when

I say he seemed a person brought up to himself, and entertaining the

hope that at no distant day he would become a very important

character--perhaps outshine General Pierce himself. He looked at me,

and I looked at him; then he grinned at me, and I grinned at him. At

last I said, I reckoned we might draw the game. I then added, that

from the look of the establishment I could not be wrong in assuming

that they did a large business in the way of feeding hungry

politicians and honester people. 'You may stake some on that, old

feller,' says he, with a suspicious leer. His nasal was somewhat

strong, so I put him down as from Vermont State, perhaps from the more

mountainous part of it. As if shy of my patronage he upon the counter,

pompous, spread his hands, as if the mahogany was all his. This

seeming indifference rather touched my dignity, which was of tender

quality, so I cast upon him a look he could not misinterpret,

inquiring if he could tie a body up for the night in a spare corner.

'You may bet on that! got a spare pin we can hook ye on somehow, I

reckon;' he ejaculates, sprawling his elbows, and making a support of

his fleshy hands, from between which his face peered like a soft

pumpkin sorely squeezed. In this position he stared, and stared, until

his countenance assumed an anxiety, equalled only by that of a stump

lecturer about inaugration time--say one, who had hoped for the

mission to the court of St. James, but as a matter of patriotism would

not decline the Dublin Consulship. At length he condescended to say,

with an air of languishing endurance, that 'he could do me up brown,

in the way of comfortable quarters.' I thanked him for his great

kindness, said I wanted to exercise a judicious economy, and could not

do the extensive, like those persons sprawling in easy arm chairs at

the left hand corner, to whom I pointed, and who, like Mr. President

Pierce's representatives abroad, were making a great noise to no

purpose. After looking quizically at the tie-up under my arm, then at

my tall white hat, and again at the coarse weave of my homespun, he

inquired if that (pointing to the bundle) constituted my

baggage. Instantly I told him it was none of his business; that there

was no occasion for his feeling so large, though Mr. Pierce was

President. He made an upright of himself, and very civilly rejoined

that there was no place this side of Cape Horn--and he doubted if

there was on the other side--where it was so necessary to see the

colateral as this Washington. He was proceeding to say much more, and

something about the doubtful character of General Pierce and his

friends, when I interrupted by saying, I thought he must have

forgotten my name. 'Smooth is my name,' I reiterated, 'of the Young

American party, the party that intends doing up the manifest destiny

for mankind.'

"'Manifest destiny never pays debts: must see the collateral 'afore we

tie ye up! Fact is, stranger, we must have the hold-fast for fear of

the shot falling short. The General has got so many tin-less friends,

who visit Washington on a small affair of business (here he gave his

shoulders a significant shrug), that a body has to keep a sharp eye in

the wind.' Suddenly he began to drum on the mahogany, screw his face

into a disc of puckers, and look so wise. So glad did he seem, that he

whistled Yankee Doodle with the variations, looked every which way,

and then laughed right out at what he called Smooth's outfit.

"'Needn't laugh at the fixens--old feller!' says I, 'Uncle Sam and me

are going into the tin business, and Sam, being a generous old butt,

will stand all the treats and hotel bills. Besides that, I was born in

the very sand heap where Tom Coffin was raised.'

"'Who cares for Tom' says he, turning aside, and making a polite bow

to a thirsty senator from the far west: the senatorial gent bent his

neck over, and approaching with his lips the ear of the important

individual, whispered something from out the smallest corner. This

something, when translated into decent English, might be rendered

thus:--If justice and gin slings are administered at your bar, pray

direct me the way to it! The fat man pointed up a narrow, dark, and

very long passage; and then suddenly turning to me, he said: 'If Tom

Coffin lived now-a-days, when politics went on the fast, he wouldn't

be worth shooks, he not having a vote, nor wanting an office under the

new administration.' 'Now, stranger,' says I, directing a look as if I

was going to strike something at him, 'don't make such a fuss about

the needful--look'a here!' I just plumps out Uncle Zack Brewster's

letter, and having fascinated his eye, tells him how Cochran and Riggs

'll do the dust. Like an hydraulic current let loose did the fellow

prick up his ears: then he said, '_do_ tell,' with a musical emphasis

that seemed so full of credit. Again he drew a long breath, and a

seriousness came over his face that could only be likened to that of a

South Carolina locomotive when drawing a whole convention of

secessionists, who, having failed in devising means to dissolve the

'federal union,' were returning homeward very melancholy.

"'Never doubted Mr. Smooth's word,' says he, with simple

dryness,--'but, notwithstanding, painful is the experience that

office-holders and seekers, though always kind to Uncle Sam, and

tenacious of his dignity and cashbag, seldom maintain the same

earnestness for their own when legitimates are left in the key-hole.'

"'You mean that the General's friends don't shine over on the square?'

"'Precisely so!--Mr. General Pierce himself is a sort of mixed stripe;

but his friends (and he has regiments of them!), all fighters in the

Mexican war when he was brigadier, expect so much something material

for themselves that all _outsiders_ are forgotten. Now and then the

General is sorry to inform his many friends that he is a little ill;

to which a voice here and there is heard to say that he is not

inclined to do the clean thing.'

"Well, I saw what the feller wanted; so I pulled out a fist full of

shiners, just to show him what Young America could do. The seeing the

dimes smoothed him down into the most agreeable amiability. His face

loomed out with good natur, his feelings seemed coming right from his

inards; and he struck up Yankee Doodle by way of an offset.

"'Pooty full, Mr. Smooth,' he generously remarked, 'but we must try

accommodate you somehow! We'll tuck you away in a spare corner, high

up!'

"'That's a good soul,' said I,--'know'd ye warn't a bad sort of

fellow,--when a body understood how to get the good out!'

"'Apartments for Solomon Smooth, Esq., from Cape Cod,' he said,

mutteringly, looking over his book, and drumming with his fingers on

the page. Mr. Smooth, in proof of his fast principles, will have no

objection to tying up in the seventh story?'

"'Rather stiff that, Major! Young America can do most anything,--hang

up on a pin if it be necessary to accommodate, but don't just like the

moon for a bedfellow.'

"'Won't trouble you with a bedfellow, Mr. Smooth,' he, grinned out,

shaking all over his broad sides.

"It being well understood in Washington that great men were most

condescending, while little men, with large expectations, were most

aspiring, there was nothing left but to cut a course between the two.

As for the latter quality of gentlemen, they never stood at trifles,

and when they failed to get the big business, had not the slightest

objection to the small,--which was the doing all Mr. President

Pierce's thinking. Therefore, be it known that, with a full knowledge

of this sad state of affairs, did I write down:--'Mr. Solomon Smooth,

from Cape Cod:' which, when down, looked like the footprints of a hen

that, having dipped her claws in an inkstand, had waddled across the

page. Thus ended my induction at the National.

CHAPTER II.

MR. SMOOTH SUPS, AND GOES TO BED.

"At length, Uncle Sam, I found myself somebody; and while looking

about me on the many well-dressed and very good-natured gentlemen who

subsisted on the hope of your generosity, could not avoid the

contemplation of what a glorious world this of ours must be,

possessing as it does so many good hearted souls like yourself, so

rich--but as indifferent to their own best interests. 'You will take

supper, Mr. Smooth?' inquired the man behind the mahogany. Before I

had time to speak, he pulled a bell that jingled like Jehu. And then

there came scampering in a school of negroes, so tidy, trim, and

intelligent. One bowed--another smiled--a third waited with a

salutation my commands. 'Take care of Mister Smooth!' again spoke the

man behind the mahogany, as with an effort to be commanding in accent.

That they might know more emphatically (as Uncle Tom Benton says) that

Mr. Smooth was none of your common citizen, I turned my eyes on the

darkies, and stared at them until they turned pale. Then one possessed

himself of my bundle: moving off with a scientific motion, and a bow

_a la cabinet_, he bid me follow. Obeying his summons, onward we went,

through a long, dark passage, and into a spacious hall up stairs,

where he said they eat their people. No sooner was I bowed to a seat

than a dozen gentlemen darkies set upon me in good earnest; so fast

did they beset me with eatables that I begun to think they had

mistaken me for a thanksgiving turkey about to be fatted for the table

of the secretary of the treasury. The fixins, as Mr. Samuel Slick

would say, made one feel quite at home; not so with the darkies: they

recognizing my home spun, soon became sassy; whereupon I turned round

and set upon _them_ with the broadest grin I could summon. Nor could I

withhold a laugh at seeing them laugh. 'Reckon how mas'r's on big

business to Washington wid Mr. General Pierce,' says one, whose face

was black, and bright, and full of the quizzical; while another, with

a flat crooked nose gave a cunning wink out of his left eye. This

being detected by a superior, in the brisk person of a son of the

Emerald Isle, who stood well six feet in his boots, a 'soucer' with

the broad front of his knuckle bones, between the colored gentleman's

two eyes, was the rejoinder--a most striking remonstrance, that laid

him measuring the floor. Troth! an' it's myself 'd stop yer

botheration. Sure, ye dark spalpeens, is it by the same token ye'd

trate the gintleman? (Here the honest son of sweet Erin showed signs

of his Doneybrook getting the better of him.) 'Myself 'll take care of

Mr. Smooth--doesn't he belong to the self same party, the

know-nothings? The divil a such a country, as Hamirike: an' it's the

boys from Donegal that 'ud be taking her dignity in care.' Saying

this, Mr. Patrick (for such was his name) stretched the whole length

of his important self over the table, and says:--I'm yers to the

buckle of my shoe, Mr. Smooth! It's a divil a one but yerself I'll

vote for at the next helection. Sure, an' didn't mysel jine the native

Hamerikan party, with Tom Connolly, afore we'd been two months on the

beloved soil an', sure, it's Tom and myself that's goin to put through

the _nonothin_ for ye.' Here Mr. Patrick anxiously paused for a

reply. To never say a bad thing when I could not think of a good, ever

has been my motto; so I returned his good nature with saying:--'Give

us yer hand, Mr. Patrick--we will forget the two, and yet be one! and

that our faith may be made strong, we will together do brown the

patriotism of these United States.

"'Ye better believe that!' returns Mr. Patrick, with an exultation of

happiness; and concluding with: 'I'd kill every nager in the land, be

the pipers I would! an' it's the boys from old Ireland what does be

keeping the bright face on pure Hamirikan principles. Sure an' warn't

it the brave boys that halicted Gineral Pierce and his cumrades?' Here

Mr. Patrick again paused, and with a wise look, shook his head. 'We

put the broad staunch face on the democracy,' again he interjaculated

with a mutter. Indeed, Mr. Patrick the reader will easily detect, had

the crude idea of right in his head; but, unfortunately, he could only

get it out in these simple and sideling insinuations. The negro, whom

we have before described as being knocked down, picked himself up and

had nothing to say.

"'There may be much in what you say, friend Patrick,' said I: 'The

boys from Donegal do with the elective franchise much that

_native-Homers_ in their carelessness leave undone. Mr. Patrick

acknowledged this, shook his head, and said the fact, though

deplorable, was preeminently established.

"'Like every one who visits Washington these times, yer a friend of

the Gineral's, and have fit with him in the Mexican war?' again he

inquired, seeming to anticipate my answer. Of the Mexicans I know

little--of the war less: it were well our country made peace its

friend, war its enemy. As to the General and his fighting in Mexico,

that was a matter that best affected himself; through it he became a

great potentate, but not so great a man; but, I accept the general

idea that he is now become troubled of a short memory. During this

time I had not forgotten number one--my supper! Having stowed it well

away under my lining, I felt very much like a man who had just turned

away his back on Secretary Marcy, having through personal friendship

received the country's best collectorship. Seeing the point of

good-nature to which my feelings had arrived through the strong

argument of meats, Mr. Patrick proffered his services to navigate me

out of the place where he ate his people--through entries, corridors,

passages, halls, and down stairways, along which we were ever

encountering persons who, like Mr. Pierce, were groping their way in

the dark. In the course of time, and after much feeling and fumbling,

I again encountered the light of the mahogany counter, behind which

stood the same individual I have before described--his person so

formidable, his face so full and fat, his hair so sleek and smooth.

"'Had a good supper, Squire Smooth?' says he, a broad smile spreading

over his broader face. On answering in the affirmative, he introduced

me to numerous unsatisfied politicians. One of this very numerous

gentry, and of whom I had, unfortunately, occasion to know more at a

subsequent period, (he was a man of grief from South Carolina), swore,

by his knowledge of southern rights and secession, that his State, so

neglected, would certainly go out of the Union. She had not a minister

abroad--only Consul General at Alexandria, which was said by the

knowing ones to be somewhere in Egypt; and where, to prove his strong

faith in southern principles, and his independent indifference to the

feelings of thin-skin northerners, he had purchased two very handsome

Nubian slaves of the feminine gender. This was merely to illustrate

the truly American spirit of our institutions: perchance it might

arouse from his stupor the Viceroy, who not fully cognizant of the

height of civilization to which America had arrived, was making

singular, and to me very praiseworthy efforts, to free his people from

the curse of enslaving men. To our patriotic Consul General we say--go

it!--a few more such examples will give the Egyptian an impression of

our liberty and christian love most strange: the brilliant light of

our western star will, I fear, have much in it to remind him of those

darker days when his forefathers built pyramids.

"'Come to see the Gineral, I s'pose, stranger?' our Carolinian

inquired, with a suspicious look, touching a companion beside him on

the arm. To his inquiry I returned--nothing shorter! 'Cape Cod,' he

followed with a respectful bow, 'did noble work for the true

democracy; she is great in sands, shoals, and cod-fish; she will send

General Pierce a chowder, as emblematic of his foreign policy--' Here

I interrupted by assuring him that Cape Cod could stand anything to

the stomach digestible; But whether she could digest the General was a

doubtful question. Cape Cod, be it known over the broad acres of this

land, I added, has a spirit above living on government: she turned

disdainfully from the means that were fast turning the functions of

government into a machine for grinding out patronage--she never

sacrificed Uncle Sam for the sake of what is in his tin-trunk. At

this, which he was pleased to call an expletive, he begun to summon

his dignity: at once he stiffened in a manner that proved how much

superior to me he considered himself, and how much more of Uncle Sam's

shiners were necessary to his conceived maintenance. 'Cape Cod is the

place,' says he folding his arms, moving to a more piquant position,

giving his person a little more importance, and making a target of the

brightly polished stove, against which he permitted a well-directed

stream of dark fluid to explode ere he wiped his lips.--'Cape Cod is

the place from whence all persons come who profess to be born free and

equal; but they are a scrubby set--' Considering it a duty I owed to

the nation, I again interrupted him. 'Cape Cod,' replied I, 'has got

gumption, principle, and the spirit of a go-ahead in her: she

germinated the Young American party. Understand, citizen, (here I

found spunk was necessary), a cape-coaster can at any time boast a

full fair of fish; if he draw them from Mr. John Bull's waters, so

much the better. He is no stranger to Mr. John Bull, whom he esteems

rather a dogged fellow, pugnaciously inclined at times, but never so

bad as he seems; and though stubbornly behind the age of progress, nor

willing to believe in the principles of manifest destiny, often

improves upon acquaintance.'

"'Good night, Mr. Smooth,' said he hurriedly; 'when you tie up for the

night--remember me--! Hope to see you bright in the morning.' Off,

like the handle of a jug, he went. And now it being time to stow

myself away, I hailed for a pilot to navigate me safe into the seventh

story. My fat friend at the counter, whose eyes were becoming leaden,

rung again the bell, and out scampered some dozen darkies from nobody

could discern where. I looked at the negroes with an expression of

excitement, and then, somewhat alarmed:--'Stranger,' says I, 'these

'ere niggers a'int all going to put me through, be they?' He said he

reckoned one would do; and to a question as to what time I would

complete the journey to bed, he replied that seeing I was of the Young

American stripe, and that the distinguished of that party could do

almost anything, provided I started soon I would reach the destination

about midnight. 'Now, providing it's any accommodation, Mr. Smooth, we

can send you to bed by steam. Say the word and up you'll go!' he

rapidly concluded, rapping with his fingers on the big book he had so

leisurely laid aside for the night, there being no chance of another

customer being caught this side of twelve o'clock. I shook my head and

moved off, telling him I did not appreciate being busted up. 'Ain't a

mite of danger!' says he: 'why, stranger, we havn't killed more nor

two dozen this year or more.' That Young America was a go-ahead I was

fully conscious; still, being somewhat anxious to extend a little

friendly advice to Gineral Pierce, I begged to be excused from all

dangers, Young America must live to proclaim the manifest destiny of a

universal republic. You may lay aside your steam fixings until a more

expedient time to use them--'Here he interrupted by saying my walking

up would only save six cents;--' can put Mr. Smooth into the machine

and send him up in a jiffy. Further, we have got some dozen old gents

here who go to bed by steam every night!' I shook hands with the

fellow, exchanged glances, bid them good night all round, and trotted

off, following the darky, who wound his way round corridors, up

stairs, and through passages for more than an hour, (at least, I

thought it was!), until I fancied we had got lost in an interminable

labyrinth of narrow passages. It was just after inauguration, which

fact was duly made known through the medium of sundry corks of

champagne bottles, which were sounding pop! pop!! pop!!! Again merry

voices were heard announcing the misfortunes of those about to pass

out: while another whose voice seemed somewhat mellow, said he had in

his eye the office he wanted--exactly. A third voice, as if echoed

through a subterranean vault, said they must all be forbearing--the

General was so undecided in his opinions. Pretty soon, the negro,

having wound his way high up in the world, turned a corner, gave a

tremendous guffaw, and opened the door of a place that looked very

much like a closet in which to stow away lean lawyers. 'Now, Cuff! ye

ain't goin to stow this citizen away in that ar place, be ye?' says I.

"'Mas'r,' returns he, ''tis just the snuggest place ye ever did see;

why! tain't da length on ye, seem how mas'r can double himself up

anyhow,--just as Gineral Pierce do.' The darkey laughed and drew back

with a bow, as I began to philosophise that, being now so well up in

the world, it was the best policy to coil up and invoke

Morpheus,--which I did, bidding good-night to all below, and promising

myself a pleasant interview with General Pierce on the following

morning.

CHAPTER III.

IN WHICH MR. SMOOTH HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH GENERAL CASS.

"Smooth had just stowed himself away in the shape of a figure 4, when

there came a voice as husky as Uncle Zack Peabody's conk, (which said

conk had been used to blow his way through the fogs of Newfoundland

for nearly half a century), saying:--'It's mighty tight squeezing

there, ain't it, stranger?' Where the voice came from seemed a puzzle

for all creation. No room was there in the place for another soul--all

became as still and watchlike as the tomb. In fear and anxiety I gazed

upon the dark wall, and along it to the little window facing the

avenue; and there, behold! but tell it not in the Capitol, was the

broad, burly face of General Cass, like a wet moon in discontent.

Unhappy with himself, he was peering in at the window. Again he

muttered:--'I can't get in!--such has always been my fate.' The

much-disappointed old gentleman bore such an expression of

discomfiture on his countenance, that Smooth was forced to the

conclusion that to be sociable would only be doing a good turn--more

especially as the General and Uncle Sam never got along well together.

'Then it's you, General?' says I: 'well, don't be in a hurry!' After a

short silence, he inquired if I could accommodate a traveller who had

been long on the road, and short of shot. I said I was not well to do

for room; but as to be obliging was the order of the day, and seeing

that he was soon to try another turn by joining the 'Young American'

party, I would see what could be done. He had got upon the roof of the

institution,--just where he could slip backward with great ease,

though it took some effort to go forward. Being somewhat infirm of

age, I took him gently by the hand and assisted him in, where I

thought he might, if he pleased, stand upon a square platform. The

General was very polite, bore strongly in his demeanor the marks of

time and honor; I could not suppress the capricious thought--that it

was time a sly corner in the patent office were provided for political

relics of a past age, and he safely stowed away in it. All things of a

by-gone age should have their place; notwithstanding, knowing that

Uncle Sam and him had tried to be intimate friends, and that he had

many warm and substantial voters in the far West, I felt to be less

than condescending would be bad political policy. He took a seat, and

began to get up his good-nature, as I inquired what earthly mission he

could be prosecuting on so dark and cold a night.

"'Well, now, friend Smooth,' he says: 'I like you, but the question

you put so honestly has a point which you cannot see, though I can

painfully feel. However, as I have no secrets, I don't mind telling

you: it must be private, nevertheless--I am sensitive not to have

these matters spread all over the Union. To-night, you see, a conclave

of political wranglers met below, in this house. Conscious that they

would have a large '_grin_' at me, discussing the means by which I

have always been the rejected of this great and growing people, I came

that my ears might lesson of fools. To this end, I mounted the

chimney, and was reconoitering down the black abyss, when my eye

turned and caught your light, like a star in tribulation, twinkling

from the window. Strange kind of a tribune for a senator, I admit, but

I heard many judgments, and from them may draw many more. One

reckoned I had stamped with the cold hand of death my political life;

always wanting to fight somebody--the English in particular! Another

said Virginia and Pennsylvania couldn't approve of my policy--that it

was too slow; while New York dare not vote for me, and I was New

England's dread. A third said he didn't believe the middle West would

back me up, because a doubt existed as to whether other States

would. These sentiments I heard from down chimney. My solemn belief

is, that I have been sacrificed to a firm and honest belief in the

Monroe doctrine; which, singularly enough, had its origin in English

minds. My efforts to carry it into effect seemed not to form a

tangible objection; though a voice now and then said it might lead to

evil consequences, England and France having formed a very unnatural

alliance to put down the aggressive spirit of nations, without respect

to the side of the Atlantic on which they were domiciled. Then, by way

of a suspending clause, they said it was not so much my pugnacious

propensities they feared, as that, being an old _fogy_, full of

personal grievances against somebody, I would make the gratifying a

venerable spleen paramount to the interests of States (all this I

heard from down chimney). That I was not a bad man, nor an inflexible

man, they all agreed; but that my time was passed was their verdict,

and being passed, I would myself soon pass into political

oblivion--nothing being left but executive expectations and

ballet-boxes, with which I might build on high a monument! The trouble

is, friend Smooth, I am not possessed of the tact of making the nation

understand me; had I this all-necessary to political fame, the Chief

Magistracy had long since been mine. To me the free press of our

country is a sort of infernal machine,--its effect in my case

strengthens the idea. Having held me up as dangerous, when in truth I

am a peaceably disposed man, they have wronged me while misinforming

the public.' Here he paused, as his face assumed its wonted

seriousness, and that wart, now historical, looked brighter than

ever. I had long been desirous of scraping acquaintance with the old

man, whom I esteemed much better inside than out, so I offered him

half of my shingle, at the same time intimating that we would have

some whiskey. At this he lowered his voice, and continued with a slow

shake of the head:--'I'm not so bad as I seem. Peradventure I wanted a

small chance at the Britishers. I hate them, but that only signifies a

trifle. Mr. Pierce, like a horn lantern for which Uncle Caleb and Jeff

furnish the light, is fast getting affairs into a fuzzle; this must be

so while the light is thus furnished, and the regulation of its

burning be left to Grandpapa Marcy. Fact is, you see, Mr. Smooth, the

administration is become like a steam-engine, Mr. Pierce being used as

a piston by Caleb, Jeff, and Co., who, in addition, furnish

Southern-rights for fuel, use patronage as a condenser, and make a

safety valve of Papa Marcy. But Papa has yet to take many lessons in

National Engineering before his control over the machine is complete.'

I watched the old man's anxious eye as he spoke; and again suggested

the taking a little whiskey: I pitied him. 'It will set ye all right!'

says I, 'it'll take the fogyism all out, warm up yer inards, and make

yer ideas come out with the philosophy of a _Mara beau_. Mr. Pierce

loves to traffic in the language of war, but like all little

creatures, makes his noise and stops.'

"'Well, in obedience to my friendship for you, Smooth--and with the

knowledge that you are going into business with Uncle

Sam--appreciating the 'Young American' party as I do, I don't care if

I take. It may revive the hope of 1856. After all, there is something

in you New Englanders I like--give us yer hand,' he replied suddenly,

as a soft smile spread over his hard face. He commenced wiping his

lips, and was so polite. I rang the bell, and up came the negro, his

face as full of alarm as a frightened moon in a hail-storm. Alarmed at

his appearance, the General sprang to his feet, and was for bolting

through the window. 'Don't be scared, General!' says I, trying to

suppress a laugh; 'put on the pluck of Young America--niggers then

will seem as nothing.' Mr. Pierce pursues this course. General knows

it takes somebody to cut a figure in the world; and seeing that these

United States constitute a free country, what violation of principle

is there in doing with negroes what you please? The steaming punch now

awaited us; I filled the General's glass, and he said 'this was a

great country, which would soon send Young America out on the world to

proclaim manifest destiny.' I said amen, and the punch disappeared

into his depot, as he concluded. It was clear his inards warmed, he

beginning to brighten up soon after. With a laconic air, he touched me

on the elbow, and said, 'Somehow, it seems to touch the right place--I

declare it does! I am half inclined to the belief that General Pierce

sups formidably of this just before he talks about winding things up

in a straight sort of way, all of which he ultimately forgets: the

influence of this sort of steam was undoubtedly that which selected

Minister Solan Borland the man for Central America. It was not that

friend Solan went to settle perplexing questions with that dwarf

combination of helpless governments; it was enough that he amused

sundry citizens and much annoyed others with the little fracases

which, through the power of political steam, he was wont to indulge

in.'

"'Now, Uncle Cass!' said I, interrupting him, at the same time adding

a good-natured wink, 'you must excuse Smooth's seeming intrusiveness;

but, what do you think of annexation in general, and filibustering and

taking Cuba in particular?' At this, the General gave a knowing pause,

scratched his head as if it was troubled with something, and then

replied with much dryness: 'Ah! the one is a subject popular to-day,

the other is fast becoming so: when both are equally popular, we may

advocate them with safety. Mr. Pierce understands this policy. That

which is popular and holds out advantages must go down in our go-ahead

country. According to the axiom of our Southern doctrines we must have

Cuba: she must be wedded in political bonds to Cape Florida; not for

the purpose of consolidating niggerdom, but merely to complete in that

direction the point of manifest destiny.'

"'Lord love yer political faith, General!' said I, rising up and

taking him firmly by the hand.

"'Ye'll do for the Young America, that ye will! There'll be no more

old-fogyism--no more of the slow-coach school! Take another bumper,

and you'll be ripe for the new party.' The General, with less dignity

than you might have supposed him capable of condescending to, filled

his glass, drew his chair back, threw his square figure well over the

arms, and roared right out until it became dangerous. At length he

began to drink his whiskey, and that stopped his joy for a time. But

he soon broke out afresh. 'What on earth is the matter with you,

stranger? you ain't going to make a shaking machine of your broad

sides, be ye?' says I, giving him a look that would have pierced a

stone wall.

"'You must excuse me, Mr. Smooth, but the principles of your party

would make anybody laugh; why!--its sprouting members are all growing

out of their breeches. Where, in that stretchy imagination the party

possesses, can you find a place for the moon, which of necessity must

follow in the train of annexation?' he inquires seriously.

"'Put it? Why, Gineral, you have been stowed away so long, keeping

dog-watch over fogyism, that you don't comprehend how Uncle Sam has

been transformed into a go-ahead chap to suit the times. Consul

Saunders 'll bridge the Gulf Stream, and thus unite Cuba and Cape

Florida; and, his pockets well lined with letter-writing materials, be

first to march over it and proclaim manifest destiny to the

natives. As for the moon, George will find a place in the compact for

her.'

"'But, Mr. Smooth,' says he, 'what in the name of changes be you going

to do with so many little kingdoms? A thousand years will scarcely

people our present domain! Now, Smooth, I'll cut out a small job for

the Young American party:--let them, just to give a specimen of their

principles, step across to Europe and help Louis and Uncle John (I

hate John, though) whip Nicholas, and turn vacillating, faithless

Austria into a republic, with principle and spirit equal to her

position as a nation.' The General looked serious as he concluded--so

far as whipping Austria was concerned we would be only too glad did

she for once throw off her cowardice and afford us an opportunity. She

had long played at thimblerig with doty old Mr. John Bull, before

whose eyes she had placed the spectacles of fantasy, the changes of

which the poor old gentleman's very refined sense and undeniable

diplomacy had not permitted him to comprehend. Austria was like the

thief who set himself up as umpire to settle between two knaves of his

own cloth, and, while he gave advice to both, was securing to himself

the very plunder which gave rise to the dispute. Nicholas, John Bull

said, was a ruffian of the go-ahead school; but, of the three

ruffians, which shall we choose? history may be the teacher! Ruffians,

however, may do good at times, in which sense Nicholas was entitled to

more consideration than Mister Bull, in his frenzy, was willing to

accord. Thus saying, the General and me took another glass, shook

hands, and bowed most politely. Again I stretched myself down for the

night, as he (promising to call again and have another talk)

disappeared out of the window.

CHAPTER IV.

MR. SMOOTH'S DREAM.

"Leaving Cass holding on at the slippery roof. I dreamed that the

ghost of Benton, in contemplation bestrode the summit of the Rocky

Mountains; that 'Young America,' like a Colossus with monster limbs

stretched across a world, was endeavouring to wake from their stupor

the nations. With a voice like unto lazy thunder murmuring in the

distance was he proclaiming his hatred of kings, into whose dominions

he threatened to march great armies, and whom he described as curses

sent upon the earth by the evil one: for the _Evil One_ sought to

promote self, a means to which he found in those intrigues by which he

made strong his court--the same was the trade of kings. Again the

voice thundered forth--'Here are the instruments that have destroyed a

world of human beings, and for a selfish purpose gloated over the

blood they had made run in torrents.' I looked, and behold! appeared

there before me a terrible devil, of hideous form having two great

horns, on one of the long sharp points of which was poised a king, on

the other a fat bishop in his lawn. The two perpetual mischief-makers,

and desolators thus poised, he came with a hideous roar, threatening

to drown them in the river of unrefined common sense. And then there

was written in broad letters of fire across the shoulders of this

sturdy devil--'Kingcraft and Churchcraft have cursed the nations of

the earth, and turned to blight the blessings of the True God!' Again

this significant edict vanished, and in its place there came, as in

letters of gold, 'Cheap Government and no Established Church--let the

nations be ruled in wisdom and right!' This had reference to good old

England, not America, for here bishops are known to be meek and good.

All this was a dream: but then there came, soaring giant-like, 'Young

America,' and manifest destiny which he spread over the land for the

benefit of mankind. Then there came a great darkness, followed by a

little light that crept feebly onward as if fearing to spread itself

on the broad disc of the horoscope--it was the light of Mr. Pierce,

beneath which hovered doubtful devils. How rapacious they seemed! They

saw the doubts and fears of his little light, and would fain carry him

off into purgatory ere it died out. But his saviours came: they were

the ghosts of those great lights that founded the pillars of our

Republicanism. Down they sat, in ghostly conclave, and with

instruments in hand set about driving away the carrier devils and

working the problem of Mr. Pierce's political policy. It was

impossible!--not all the trigonometry of which they were masters

sufficed to aid them in the task. It seemed like attempting to solve

the principle of that which never had one. He stood on a platform of

sections, each of which turned at a touch, and seemed giving way for

want of strength. Indeed, as beheld in the dream, he could play the

game of uncertainty through a dozen focuses. The jury of ghosts

became sorely perplexed; then they began to put to him some very

honest questions, as to what his intentions really were. And while

doing this the spirit of Washington, arrayed in glory, looked down

upon its feeble successor, and with an ironical smile shook its head.

"Then there came an unaccented voice from the little light--the light

said to be the impersonation of Pierce; indeed, it was of kindred with

the shadow in that singular romance by Hawthorn, called the life of

Pierce! And the voice said:--'I shall be known by my practice.' Just

then the little light became dimmer, and turned away toward a long

dark avenue, where the vista seemed studded with the faces of

disconsolate 'niggers.' At this the ghost of Webster yawned, and that

of Calhoun scowled fiercely and contemptuously; while Clay's rubbed

its eyes and wept tears of pity. Again all was darkness. Then there

came again the little light of which I have spoken;--it was the light

of Mr. Pierce. It flickered and fluttered, and thus we identified

it. 'We have to deal with Europe--with that happy alliance my very

amiable Lord Clarendon says is for purposes not alone in Europe. My

lord's language, however, is so cleverly diplomatic--that is, it can

be made to mean anything or nothing,--as to need a translation. My

lord means, that when it has served to curb the national ambition of

certain nations of Europe it may be turned to the same purpose in

another but more congenial hemisphere. Kossuth wants material

aid--such as saddles, tin, &c. &c. I would give it him, if he would

teach Austria a lesson of honesty! Nevertheless, as to Louis himself I

would be extremely cautious, for being more a blower than a moulder,

and having a peculiar talent for getting affairs very crooked, the

instrument in the man is of questionable ability;--indeed, in a crisis

between nations, such an instrument should he examined with great

skill and delicacy before being set in motion.' He spoke after this

manner, and quick as thought the spectacle vanished--it was but a

dream? Not a ghost was seen; no lurid face cast its pale shadow over

the dark canvas; the pure spirit of Washington had departed in

hopeless despair. I was about to read a prayer, when the dark canvas

moved aside, and there, real as life, sat on a slave's grave the

immaculate Brigadier;--he, reader, was sipping whiskey toddy, as if it

were his wont. Old Bunkum was the slave whose grave he sat upon. It

was a strange penance over the mound of one so old; and yet who in the

political world that had not paid it? 'Why!--Bunkum, you are

barefoot;' a voice spoke.

"'Remember, old man, you must keep on the stiff,--it's as necessary to

success as it was to believe the old Constitution frigate could whip

anything afloat.' It was the General who spoke to the ghost of Bunkum,

who, having risen from the grave, stood before him, moody and

despairing. In ecstasy he grasped the hand of the cold figure cried

out that his soul's love was with him. But in his exuberance he let

the whiskey run over the green grave, into which the ghost soon

disappeared and left him alone to his contemplations. Bunkum, like

Billy Bowlegs, who has too much sense for the great father, says he

has wandered through all weathers, and endured all kinds of political

farcery: now that he had become old, and served as long as the god of

sacrifice, would they not let him rest in peace? Here the General

seemed alone and forlorn: then he wept bitterly, until the ghost of

Bunkum in pity again appeared and with him sat upon the grave. The

General kindly took him by the hand, and in his ear whispered

something, the only part of which became audible was--'When as

President of this great country I became, I was bound--' Here the man

paused. A kindlier feeling now came over Bunkum, in evidence of which

he motioned as if he would take another drop of whiskey with the

President, or ask a favor he was delicate about broaching. For a man

who had so long looked upon things beneath him his reserve was to be

appreciated, especially when viewed in comparison with the

expectations of those many numerous friends, all of whom expected

foreign missions. Having chatted and sipped together a sufficient

length of time, and as Bunkum was about to say _good by_, he turned

with a half significant smile, and touching the General on the elbow,

said:--'Ye ain't got a spare hat and pea-jacket to lend a body?'

"'Bless you, Bunkum, you are of the South!--anything you want is at

your bidding. New England (she's a trump!) can take care of herself;

let the storm threaten as it may, she never trips. We must do for

Kentuck and Carolina:--the black pig must have his swill if the rest

find an empty trough.' 'Thank you! thank you! General; our States

will stand firm to you--Bunkum himself never will forsake you;' spoke

thus thankfully the ghost of the old man as it took leave of the old

General and disappeared. Here I awoke from my dream to painful

reflections.

CHAPTER V.

A MORNING ADVENTURE.

"As Uncle Sam is equally careless of his language and cash, he will

excuse a crooked beginning and accept a straight ending. Contemplating

my crooked dream I confess I waked up without a straight idea in my

head. The fact was, I was waked up with such an incomprehensible

jingling, ringing, rumbling, and gonging, that I mistook its purport,

and thought the Russians were bombarding the house. I was about

looking out of the window to see if the White House was all safe, when

a negro with a countenance blacker than vengeance protruded his fizzy

head into the door, and without a morsel of knocking commenced

grinning. 'Anything wanted for Major Smooth?' inquires he; and

without waiting for an answer, catches up the bed, Smooth and all the

fixins, and set them somewhat aside. 'Not so fast, Cuff!' said I;

'Smooth is no Major--plain Mister Smooth from the Cape.'

"'Lor, Mas'r' replied the negro, interrupting me; 'when in Washington

t'wont do to be a mite less than a Major-General. Every man what come

to dis city widout his title better come widout himself. Our clerk

what stand at the hogany counter be a General,--Jones, the ostler, be

a Colonel; and Wilkes what keep the oyster shop ober yonder be a

Major! As for Captains, they are as thick and of as little use as

blackbirds. Will you take somethin?' The sagacious negro bowed, and

waited for a reply. I told him that being invited to a fish breakfast

with the General at the 'White House,' I would forbear to liquor until

I had made my bow.

"'S'pose you'll take the customary gin cock-tail, Mr. Smooth?' the

negro rejoined, with an anxious air. Evincing my surprise at such a

proposition, I assured him I did not know its meaning. 'Don't know

what it is!' he exclaimed, with a deep sigh. 'A very fashionable

drink,' he continued; 'gemmen what see de General, and study national

affairs, all take some on em in da mornin.'

"'Now, Cuff,' I rejoined, 'just tell the truth; you mean that in order

to keep the dignity up, it is necessary to take something stiff in the

mornin?'

"'Dat him, mas'r,' says he in reply, accompanying it with a broad

guffaw. 'When mas'r bin to de White House, and seem serious, as if he

ain't got what he want, he put a cock-tail down to make de glorious

come up; it be a great anecdote for what mas'r call de blues.' The

interpretation of what the negro said was that it made a man feel as

if he had the best office in Mr. Pierce's gift safe in his

pocket. Having a reasonable appreciation of a negro's statement, I

consented on the ground of its good qualities--thus represented--to

take a little. The negro left, but soon returned with it in his

hand--all bittered and iced. Down it went, plump!--it cut away the

cobwebs, made my inards fizzle, and the whole frame feel as lively as

a bee-hive. The negro said it was good--and I said I reckoned. And

then I 'turned out,' as they call it, broadside on. 'Great kingdom,'

exclaimed the negro, giving me a slanting look from head to foot;

'why, mas'r, dey must a growed ye in a guano country.'

"'Cuff! don't be sassy,' I replied. And then he very good-naturedly

commenced arranging my homespun. He fussed over me as if I were a mere

substance to be transformed into anything Mr. Pierce might

require. Then, to my utter astonishment, he apprised me of the fact of

General Cass having carried off my boots and breeches--adding that it

was a sort of mania with him, and for which he was not morally

accountable. Then the negro began quizzing my person. One of my legs,

he said, was hard shell, the other a soft shell; however, to reconcile

the matter, he further added that the embodiment was exactly suited to

Mr. Pierce's principles, inasmuch as he could go between--which he

always aimed to do. He then said I must have pantaloons of the right

stripe; because in Washington a man must look genteel, and have his

understandings straight. It was no excuse that the General himself was

an undecided Democrat; if he was round in some things, he was square

in others,--that is he was round in policy, and square in periods. The

Negro said he did not look so much at the cut of the pantaloons as the

quality of the cloth, and its tenacity for stretching--according to

the expectations of the 'Young American' party.

"Upon this assurance, I ordered him to repair to the tailor's, which

he did, and was not long in returning and bringing with him a pair of

fashionables suited to the times. 'Great country,' said he, holding

them before me and shaking his black sides with laughter. Into them I

slid myself; the bottoms only reached a little below my knees. The

negro, with eyes like astonished stars, set upon the straps, and such

a tugging and pulling as there allowed! I began to think I was being

pulled in two, (after the fashion of Mister Pierce's promises and

performances), when Cato, (such was the negro's name), his face almost

white with exertion, begged I would not be alarmed--that he would very

soon get them all right! In another minute something went--pop!

Simultaneously with the report was my head driven clean through the

pine-board ceiling into a chamber unfortunately occupied by a lean old

maid of some forty-seven summers. 'Good mornin, missus,' I said,

trying to make a bow; 'hope I ain't intruding.' The old lady looked

mighty streaked, and wouldn't be pacified, until I told her I was

merely giving a few feats, just to illustrate the principles of the

'Young American' party. It's only Young America, ma'am, he's cutting

the three figures of his sentiments, as made known by his particular

stars,--Soule, Saunders, and Sickles. Didn't intend to disturb you, my

good woman,' says I. I wanted to seem polite--to put the very best

foot forward; but it was to no earthly use. The old critter screamed,

jumped out of the bed, and like a ghost shaking his cotton to the

storm, ran away in dismay.

"'Good Christopher Columbus!' exclaimed the negro, almost bursting

with fright. With this he commenced pulling and jerking at my legs,

until, finding his efforts useless, he hastened down stairs and spread

the alarm. Major Smooth was in an alarming situation!--'most

dying!--would breathe his last!--warn't no help fo'h him!--must die,

sartin!! Such a ringing and dinging of bells, such a tampering up

stairs, such a puffing and blowing of excited citizens as followed,

never was heard or seen before. Although in a tight place, I was

neither alarmed nor crest fallen. Indeed, I thought I'd enjoin the old

lady on the other side to enter upon the discussion of a political

question, just by way of keeping up the characteristic sociability of

the nation. Presently about a dozen dangerously excited faces

presented themselves in the room. 'He's gone, certain,' says one;

'Major Smooth's a cold chicken,' mutters another; 'Young America's

cutting a figure,' rejoins a third; 'he's only at rest while

performing some overt act,' interposes a fourth. 'Much you know about

it!' says I, cool as Labrador: 'I merely put my head through this ere

place for the purpose of being friendly with this lone female

lodger--pull me out!' In right good earnest they seized me by the

boots, saying:--'Let us bring Young America into a respectable

position;' and with the most unmerciful jerks they laid me measuring

the floor. In no wise disconcerted, I picked myself up, and inquired

if they had another strap to loan me. With the exception of Cato, the

negro, they all enjoyed a good laugh; he had no sooner relieved me,

than he commenced raising a fuss about my damaging the ceiling--never

for once taking Mr. Smooth's head into consideration. Young America,

he said, was always too fast--always getting into trouble and calling

upon others to help him out.

CHAPTER VI.

MR. SMOOTH FINDS HIS PATH TO THE WHITE HOUSE A DIFFICULT ONE.

"'Good morning, Mr. Smooth!' saluted the fat man behind the mahogany,

as I entered the office, having escaped from my perilous position in

the seventh story. In addition, he took a lunar observation all along

down my hull, which he said was a mighty tough sort of craft, and had

received no damage for which the house could be held responsible.

"As if to make the picture more complete, a number of anxious-looking

individuals (all firm friends of Uncle Sam) crowded about me, each

putting some curious question in reference to my expectations and the

Executive and his gifts. Many of these important gentry had

proboscises largely developed and very red; indeed, the reddest nose

was strongest evidence of the best office-seeker; albeit, some

waggishly inclined gentleman had said that the most generously

red-nosed man always esteemed his deserts to be no less than that of

United States Minister at some very fashionable foreign Court, where

the good red of a well-developed nose was significant of pure

blood. 'Well now, gents,' I returned, 'you needn't be trying to poke

your political fun at this citizen! Young America is all right

yet. Put me on the track of Mr. Pierce's whereabouts.' Seeing they

were facetiously inclined, I summoned that independence so necessary

to a citizen of standing. At this moment, one more politely inclined

than the rest, stepped forward, and commenced giving me the ins and

outs of the way to see the Brigadier, who, lie said, was surrounded by

many fairweather courtiers. Stepping politely to the door, he, with

grace not unbecoming, raised a well-gloved hand, and half

whispered:--Mr. Smooth will walk into the avenue--keep on the West

side--join the throng (they are all officials in embryo)--be sure and

look as serious as they do; and with them you will arrive at the

'White House' to take your place and chance.' Oh! chance! 'There is no

missing the way, Mr. Smooth; get behind some well-dressed citizen--one

who looks as if he were in pursuit of something the means of securing

which he had made sure. Follow that man!' I thanked him for his

civility,--he seemed one of Uncle Sam's bone-breakers, and sallied out

under the happy contemplation that a gentleman from Cape Cod was on a

par with the same species of mankind from South Carolina. It was true

that with what little aristocracy we boasted--and in that little there

was truly a great blessing, inasmuch as it illustrated the fact of

there being one spot on this earth where common sense had got the

better of refined sense--was founded in the possession of 'niggers,'

the number giving rank in the scale. In the small but very

aristocratic atmosphere of democratic South Carolina it had been

proposed to establish an order of the American garter, the means

entitling to membership being the possession of a very large number of

fat negroes and negresses: and to ingratiate the august order it was

proposed to make Colonel Wade Hampton first knight, and Lady Tyler

first knightess. The reader, Mr. Smooth feels assured, will pardon

this little digression, which he will set down to my love for that

darling little State.

"I soon muddled my way along with the crowd, among which there were

very long faces, very short faces, and faces from which nothing could

be extracted--the comic faces always kept behind! As a matter of

policy I got behind the man who had the longest and most quizzical

face; for he gave out signs of seeing daylight through political

darkness. I made his acquaintance, and found him of the free-and-easy

school. 'On your way to see the General, stranger?' I inquired, edging

up to him in a polite sort of way--at the same time keeping up the

free-and-easy. 'No,' he answered with a laconic air, and a half

significant shrug of the shoulder, 'I'm merely strolling this way,

leisurely contemplating. I take it you have not been long in the

Capital?' he added. 'You are right on that point, citizen,' said I in

return.

"'Expecting a good appointment?' he continued to inquire,

philosophically. 'Well, it may be: s'pose you're in for a

Ministership, if you come out a martyr,' I replied, adding a Western

wink which is given with both eyes. He very good-naturedly

acknowledged that I had hit the mark, gave me his arm, said we must

look in somewhere by the way-side and taste a small drop of Young

American whiskey, which would have the effect of making stronger our

friendship. This we did, drinking a good time to Mr. Pierce. No sooner

was the whiskey down than all his ideas came straight up. He said he

was none of yer small fry;--like thunder he had stumped it for General

Pierce; like electricity he had down in Georgia and Western Alabama

carried everything for true democracy. 'Reckon Mr. Smooth never was

down South?' he concluded, in parenthesis. I assured him I never was;

but that I had heard it was great of office-holders, and persons who

would, with every consideration for the Union in general, hold the

federal government very fast. To this he merely bowed in confirmation.

To another question, which was rather of a delicate nature, he said

the South did not so much value the emoluments of office; but her sons

reverenced the noble qualities of their forefathers, with whom dignity

was inherent,--and it was they that were best qualified to maintain

and spread its influence for the benefit of the nation. It was the

dignity of the nation, made manifest in its government, the South

sought to maintain. So said my friend, whose name was Pringle

Pierpont--well acquainted with Uncle Sam. All of a sudden he laughed

outright, saying I was ignorant of the _why and how to do, diplomacy_

of Washington. What it is impossible to get you must always say you

never wanted; and what is within your reach, always say was far beyond

our expectations. Meantime, be a philosopher, and act with apparent

indifference to what is going on around you: never tell a friend you

are worth less than one hundred thousand dollars. Upon such an

hypothesis you may face the General, talk profound (here and there in

parenthesis letting out your knowledge of foreign affairs), but never

give him to understand that you can extract crooked and put straight

ideas into his head--above all, be sure and feel as independent as a

wood-sawyer at two dollars a day. Play well your face, and a spoil of

the game just won will be yours. Marcy is father of this principle!

Heed not the sympathy between your heart and head,--while the one

feels high never let the other play low. Accept anything the General

may be pleased to offer, adding that it is in respect to his great

talent and your anxiety to keep respectable his foreign affairs; and

think how you belie your conscience the while. Now, Smooth, you will

see how open-armed the General will be to see me!'

"I told Mr. Pierpont how glad I was to hear it, seeing that it might

be the means of putting me through on the same hook. Without

hesitation, he said he would do what he could. Had I fought in the

Mexican war the case would have been different--had I been true to the

South, the case had been very different: the distinctions here

enumerated brought down the scale. 'However, the General and me are

one, having fought by his side in Mexico, and you shall be put

through.' So saying, we proceeded on our way, reaching in a few

minutes the White House, the gardens of which we found transplanted

with citizens--set here and there as thick as the gardener's tulips.

Before the circular carriage-way that sweeps to the great entrance,

filed a rampart of moody faces. Mr. Mulligan said they were there for

the study of Botany, he believed. Near the great portico stood the

tall figure of a man plainly dressed in blackest broadcloth; he

sauntered about as if contemplating some hopeless game of party.

Another looked as if he had just sprung from a dressing-case to

present himself before Grandpapa Marcy, in the hope of his personal

appearance making stronger his claims to a very acceptable

appointment. A third had a woe-begone smile on his face, and seemed

studying the nature of a plant that would soon need a careful hand.

When accosted concerning his musings, he said he had done battle right

manfully for the democracy; and now Mr. Pierce's only reply was, that

his demands were of so hard a nature as to render it impossible for

him to knock under. I told him that I would take the small points of

Mr. Pierce's ideas, and the strong points of Mr. Marcy's, and from

them try to work out the P's and Q's of his case.

"'You don't know if the General is at home, do you?' I inquired of

him, with as much good intention as it were possible to put in a

question. 'Know nothing about him since he's possessed himself of the

White House!--My name is Major Sykes, of the Hard Shells, New York! I

know as little of him as the country did before he was elected:--now

and then I see him smoking a long nine while laying off at his ease,

his dirty boots sticking out of the east window.' Here I interrupted by

asking if it were possible such charges could be true. 'True!'

(exclaimed he, more gritty than ever), 'true as daylight; the nation

may bless itself if he stops there. Be careful, my down-east friend,

be careful. He will sell you for a mess of corn for his black

pig. Down-east will stand no chance until Down-south gets

satisfactorily served: a wondrous change has come over the General

since he left the granite hills of his native State, where he did the

law trade in a small way. Now--Smooth, I think they call you, says

he--if I be not much mistaken the General will create a Babylon of

parties, the result of which will render it difficult to define his

own position. If the General would but get up a _cross_ between

southern secessionists and northern free-soilers, how happily it would

illustrate his policy.' Clasping his hand, 'Major Sykes,' said I, 'I

pity you.'

"'And so do I you,' he replied quickly. 'And when you come face to

face with the General, think of Uncle Sam, but don't forget

yourself,--_that is the motto!_' Saying thus, he started off, much

after the fashion of a man who feels somewhat fudgy. Duly esteeming

the position of a man who has that in his composition which gives

power to manliness, and has higher motives than political for its

aims, I made my way to the entrance of the White House, whistling

Yankee Doodle as I went. The closer I got to the great doors the more

violent became the crowd, until at last it ended in a jam of

bodies. 'Not so fast!' exclaimed an anxious individual, whose eyes

darted terror from their very sockets. 'Gentlemen!--it's my turn,'

re-echoes another half-stifled voice. 'Was not I in the city seven

weeks before the inauguration? and didn't I carry everything for the

General down in Pennsylvania?' roars a tall individual, whose hat had

received what may be called a shocking smash. Then they swayed forward

in a serf of bodies. Now it poised, as if for breath; then again it

swayed onward, threatening limb and wind. An exceedingly lean

gentleman, with a hard brown face, and a patch over his left eye,

cried out to the figure that stood bowing at the door, and demanded

that his card be first taken to the General, whom he was kind enough

to declare a right good fellow and a most intimate friend of

his. 'Perhaps you have a claim that way!' retorts a sharp voice, which

belonged to a sturdy figure well out at the elbows. He declared he had

driven the whigs out of Old North Carolina--had carried strong the,

State for Pierce and posterity. Another individual near by, and who

seemed inclined to doubt the assertion, suggested whether it were not

more probable he carried all the _watering_ establishments of that

renowned state, seeing that his nose and eyes had stood the storm of

spirits. No one ever heard of his carrying anything else! 'True,'

rejoined another: 'he can drink his way through a democratic canvass,

tell the most amiable lies, absorb any amount of chaffing, and stands

less at swearing than any other man in the country: more than all, he

can demolish the King's English at a stroke.' Such pulling, hauling,

squeezing and yawning, 'cussin' and swearing--such cross-firing,

crooked joking, and slang jibes, never before was seen in such perfect

medley. In calmer moments, even the hard-fisted, iron-hearted,

unterrified and never-washed democracy would have shed a few blushes

over it. Old democracy was nowhere--Young America was triumphant; his

sprouts were up and coming.

"'Clear the way there!' I exclaimed, raising my voice to a point.

'Mr. Smooth will walk in, and himself present his card to the

General.' The crowd looked amazed,--begun to give way. 'Mr. Smooth,

citizens,' continued I, motioning as if it were my intention to

speechify, 'is something of a body--don't stand none of your small

fritters. Mr. Smooth--like the principles of his party--was intended

for cutting a figure in the world; he will unmask aristocracy, whip

creation, and demonstrate the truth of manifest destiny.' Then they

all shouted a fashionable hee-haw, by which they hoped to drive me off

the track; but it was no go. 'Clar the way,' says I, 'or I'll split

the crowd like a thousand of bricks!' I accompanied the word with a

terrible look, at which they filed right and left as I chased square

up to the inner door, where stood a stiff sort of person, whose

clothes had grown on him--so tight were they. Surprised at my sudden

approach, he first gave many nervous winks and blinks, and then added

the silly airs of my Lord Spoonbill's menial, who, with hair buttered

and powdered, knew but the servilities of flunkeyism. 'Is the General

at home?' I demanded, adding before he had time to answer, that if he

had a spare lucifer I'd have no objection to taking a smoke with

him. With the consequence of a sleepy congressman, he inquired if my

business with the General was special. He seemed to have the keeping

of the General, much after the fashion of a keeper who guards the wild

animal of a menagerie.

"'You must send up your card: it's a question whether he is out of his

morning gown and slippers, however!' Here the man looked doubtingly at

the card, then gave his head a significant shake.

"'General ain't got so mighty big since he moved from New Hampshire?'

I inquired, as the fellow hesitated and again viewed me from the

extreme points. 'Now, Uncle Sam, to you I would say a word, hoping, in

the spirit of a very good christian, that it may be received as

wholesome advice. You, Sam, are forgetting that fame which should

reflect us in future ages; you, Sam, are assisting those who would lay

sullied hands on our pure republicanism--who would sink it in the

political slough, and build over it the reeking bastard of a pitiable

tyranny. Stretch out thy hand, Sam, that we may cease to cut before

the world and the rest of mankind so sorry a figure. Sam! you have

sent your little villains out upon the world; recall them ere they

prove themselves great fools at our expense.'

"Well, to go back:--I began to push my way past the flunkey, when he

summoned his brass and said I couldn't come in--that I must slide

myself into costume of the eight stripe! This to me was neither

diplomatic nor polite. And being deemed impolite, according to the

rules of our Young America, I placed the broad front of my

knuckle-bones between his observators, (just to bring out his spunk),

and demanded to know what they charged in Washington for a few

knockings-down. To which he elongated himself, and with cool assurance

said it had never before been his fortune to be put through the

process--hence he was not prepared to figure up the amount. A place

called limbo, he said, was just over at the corner; that I better keep

an eye to it. This last saying gave the crowd outside furniture for a

good laugh; they, the citizens, set to quizzing me about the hang of

my breeches, which they were pleased to call diplomatic. This, I

inferred, was in consequence of Grandpapa Marcy having gone to there

was no knowing how deep into the breeches business, hoping thereby to

prevent plain American citizens making very unplain apes of themselves

when abroad. Indeed, neighbor Marcy would demonstrate to the world

that cloth and diplomacy were two very different things. And this

doctrine my Uncle Buck--all praise to his name--fully endorsed,--that

is, he proved himself the only American minister not given to

purloined crests and crimson cloth.

"'Smooth is a nine-cornered citizen in the rough: he needs polishing

down with a federal holly-stone before he can be admitted into good

society:' a voice like the creaking of a door resounded through the

passage. Being a rough sort of citizen didn't affect me as long as I

had the straight up-and-down principles within. Well, I got up the

go-a-head, and walked in steady. 'T'wont do! citizen Smooth!'

interposes the flunkey, putting out his right hand as his face

reddened into a blaze. 'Young America must keep within bounds; he must

conform to the established etiquette before he can see the General.'

Not liking to be out of sorts, I turned to him, and with the best kind

of good nature told him not to come within grasping distance.

"Lord bless yer soul, Uncle Sam! I told him it was always good policy

to keep civil to distinguished individuals, and treating his insolence

as Captain Ingraham would an Austrian proclamation, I kept onward

(that's the motto!) until the passage-way opened into a gorgeously

decorated hall, the motto on the door of which I surveyed until my

head begun to ache. The General seems to have got him a snug and

well-ordained establishment, thought I. But the fixings were rather

more profuse than democracy in its simplicity had led me to suppose

its taste appreciated. But there was no concealing the fact, that the

democracy--its love of simplicity not excepted--did pay large sums now

and then for showy fixtures and grand failures. The short-comings of

the New Hampshire law-shop were extinct--elegance everywhere met the

eye. While enjoying my meditations one flunkey approached another,

telling him to keep a keen eye on that fellow--meaning me. Then a slim

figure done up in dignity and tight clothes approached me with a

polite bow: 'Please remember this is the President's mansion,' said

he, viewing my perpendicular as if he questioned whether my length was

all real growth. Seeing that the establishment belonged to Uncle Sam,

I assured him he was a little too impertinent.

"'Now, neighbor!' says I to the citizen, don't deceive yourself by

supposing the General has got his aristocracy up like this before he

has lodged three months in the White House. I'm an independent

citizen; come to put some straight policy into the General, who, with

the assistance of his grind-stone man, Fourney, unfortunately has got

everything into a twist. My name (sometimes they call me Squire) is

Solomon Smooth. It don't matter what they call me now, for be it

known, ye men of titles, all the fishermen in our district have become

judges and generals. This is the result of that necessity that makes

negro-drivers of the south captains and majors. 'But the President,'

said he, 'has got such a fearful load of business on his hands this

morning, it will be impossible he can see Mr. Smooth, nor are the

apartments in a state to be seen by visitor--' 'Always in the suds!' I

interrupted. 'No! that ain't it,' he continued, half trembling of

fear; 'but the President is new, nor yet has got into the straight way

of doing crooked business.'

"'Never mind that,' replied I, 'Smooth's an independent citizen, who

must not be interfered with while taking a turn round the

establishment: he neither stands on ceremony nor political

point-making.' The fact was, Mr. Smooth had a very wholesome hatred of

the nonsense of ceremony, and always pitied that complacency of Uncle

John Bull who, like a well-worn and faithful pack-horse, never

flinched under the heavy burden of that precious legacy called royal

blood, which, said blood, was fast absorbing the vital blood of the

nation. May our Union always be spared the degradation of such blood!

"The fellow, seeing I was not to be outdone, gave it up for a bad job,

and contented himself with following me here and there, keeping a

fixed eye on my motions, as if he feared I was going to become

enamoured of some of Mr. Pierce's chambermaids, which said commodity

was acknowledged to be very pretty, and much admired by Jones, who did

the fashionable at Willard's. It having been said that the General,

like Jackson, would keep himself, I endeavored to persuade the fellow

to show me his nook. He only shook his head and said it wouldn't do:

so I took a careless stroll through the loose apartments, and ceased

only when my sight was gratified. 'Well!' says the flunkey, adding a

deep sigh and a despairing shake of the head, 'it's no use trying to

control this citizen; he's of the fast school, without bowels.'

"'You may believe it!' returned I, advancing toward a broad circular

stairway that wound downward far into the regions below, where I

expected to find Fourney and Company holding the General down upon the

grindstone, while Uncles Caleb and Jeff turned, and Marcy stood by to

say when enough of the rough was got off. 'There! in my soul he's

going down into the kitchen!' The fellow bawled out as I passed down,

and soon disappeared, saying it was just the winding way I sought;

and, though the things to be seen in the vortex to which it led might

be dangerously dear to the nation, the proof would at least be

convincing. On I went, the way darkening as I advanced.

CHAPTER VII.

MR. SMOOTH PENETRATES THE DARK CONFINES OF MR. PIERCE'S KITCHEN, WHERE

HE FINDS THINGS SADLY CONFUSED.

"Down, down, down, went, groping my way (significant of the General's

policy) through a long dark passage, whence came a rancorous stench,

strong enough to kill cats and doubtful democrats. 'Keep the right

hand way for the kitchen: General is in there, assisting in the making

of a monster stew. Work your course through the smoke--you may be sure

Mr. Pierce is in the thickest cloud, though over the smallest

stew-pan,' a voice echoed, as if broken on the winds. 'All right!' I

muttered, confronting on my way the still stronger odour of the

sickening steam. My intention was to have a political discussion with

the cook (Fourney by name) and say a thing or two to the General; for

I had got a sort of cross-grained notion into my head that he was

compounding a grand stew for the black pig with the horns. Meanwhile

my stomach said it would have no objection to join the General over a

good breakfast. Presently I scented the frying of fish, which betold

that I was on the right track. But lo! as I was about to open a great

door that led into where the fussing and frying was going on, a voice

screamed out--'Visitors are forbidden these premises!' Here was a

pretty kettle of political fish. 'Much you know about it!' I replied

testily, and turning saw nothing but fog and confusion. Faith and

energy being the two great pillars of human progress, I summoned them

to my aid, and pressed onward, determined to see for myself who

regulated the culinary. This resolution was adopted solely on the

ground that the General had repudiated his responsibility to the

people, and joined hands with those who eat up all the loaves and

little fishes.

"Mr. Smooth, on behalf of Young America, esteemed the having positive

proof of how Mr. General Pierce kept his kitchen things a duty he

could not forego, and upon the strength of which he presented himself

to the august culinary cabinet, which he found enveloped in a dense

cloud. As I passed the great door, a fat man from Florida, who filled

that office of steady habits, the doorkeeper, said Mr. Smooth, which

he read on my card, was decidedly impertinent; the more so because

neither of the old grey-back parties had ever troubled themselves

about the kitchen fixings; that the present was an innovation he was

sure Mr. Pierce would resent by the withholding of appointments. I

left him to his opinion, and delved my way through the smoke, until I

began to think I had lost myself, and instead of Mr. Pierce on the

grindstone found a lower region of unlimited extent--so murky and

dismal was the place. They said it didn't use to be so! Such fritter

frying; such johnny-cake baking; such chowder making, and flounder

frying! Nearly a dozen fine buxom-looking, corn-fed females

(_helps_),--such as Vermont only can grow, were stuffing and stewing,

and beating and battering, and themselves seeming on the eve of

dissolution. They evinced alarm at my presence, but I told them not to

be scared, inasmuch as I was an intimate acquaintance of the General,

for whom I carried Cape Cod. On the left side of the kitchen there

stood at a great deal table an aged maid whose mien was somewhat

fidgety. This visible nervousness was increased with the labour

necessary to prepare the ponderous pile of soft dough-nuts she worked

upon; which, she said, when ready (though of little substance) were

intended to satisfy the Down-easters, who never expected much, and

seldom got anything. I pitied the poor old lady, for she seemed well

worn. She declared it was pinching times in the kitchen--that is, her

part of it. She prepared a deal of little niceties for the

peace-loving North: but, the General was so pinching with matters on

that side of the house, and had become so enamoured of the black pig!

This voracious brute demanded everything, and got what he

demanded--even got us into a deal of trouble. Indeed, it had been said

that all the swill in the country wouldn't satisfy him--he would seek

abroad for more. 'Needn't be afraid, old lady,' said I, edging up to

her in a polite sort of way: 'Smooth won't harm nobody. The New

Englanders think well of the women--they do!' Here I gave the old lady

my hand, and shook her's right heartily. 'Why,' I continued, 'there's

three Women's Rights Societies down Massachusetts way, any one of

which can start a breeze at pleasure--blow the men all into thunder! I

say, old lady, better join one of them--pay fifty cents, and blow the

men all into political rags. Musn't take what I say amiss; but you

looks as if you could do some blowing: the General standing much in

need of that article, why not volunteer? The General is going it

pretty fast now, but just get the Women's Rights Societies to blow him

a little, and he'll go fast enough for any Young American party out.'

After leaving the old woman, who said she was nearly related to

General Cass, I went politely to the other girls, bidding them, one

after another, a square down good-morning, ending with a social chat

and a smile for them all. On the opposite side of the smoky kitchen

stood the grim figure of a nigger wench, as big as the north side of a

Dutch lighthouse, and as saucy as Benton's goat. The way she was

making the wool fly over a sas-pan as big as old Zack Coffin's ile

kettle was a caution to nervous folks. 'What on earth have ye got in

that, eh?' I inquires, peeping over the side into the half-scalding

foam.

"'What business is that to you?' sounds, like thunder rolling away in

the distance, from t'other side the cauldron. Looking up almost

dumb-founded I espied the hard phiz of the General, in dim outline

through the fog and steam, stirring away at a massive ladle.

"'Pierce! Lord love yer soul--is it you?' says I, my feelings rising

into a rhapsody of affection for him: 'Give us yer hand.'

"'Yes, it's me; just come round here if you can see your way through,'

says he; and I fumbled my way round, and got him by the hand, and had

a hearty good shake, just for old acquaintance sake.

"'But what in the name of Columbus are you doing here?' I inquired,

touching him on the elbow, significantly.

"'Well!' he answers, rather undecidedly, 'just helping prepare this

pot of mixture for the black pig.' He kept on moving his big ladle

with one hand and throwing in additional feed with the other, from a

bucket that stood close by.

"I inquired of the General where he kept so dangerous an animal, and

was told in the most complacent manner that he ran all about, was as

ravenous of power as the gentleman of those lower regions we hear so

much about is of sinners; that he demanded all the country's swill.

Here the General threw into the cauldron another sprinkling of grits,

which he said was to complete the pot of homony. It was merely the

daily feed of the black pig, which the colored female assisted the

General in preparing. The General seemed very good-natured, and

commenced a mathematical description of the ingredients of the

mixture, when suddenly there came a fierce blow from behind, which

well nigh tilted him deep into the foaming liquid. I grabbed the broad

expanse of his nether garments, while the wench screamed, and was only

quieted when she found him safe under her broad lee. A deep sonorous

voice responded:--'Stir quicker in the feed!' I turned to see from

whence it came, and who had dealt thus unmercifully with the General,

when behold! there stood this hideous animal. With fourteen horns he

incessantly used, and two just growing, he hoped in time to use; with

a back of thorns he ever and anon threatened all who came near him;

with a tail of poison he defiantly lashed, and a wicked eye that

sought objects afar off--he was the most pertinacious brute unchained.

Moreover he had a snout like a ploughshare, with which he had

frequently driven Mr. Pierce to the wall.

"'Add more grits!' again the brute growled out, as if alike unhappy

with himself and those around him. The voice had scarcely delivered

its command, when Mr. General Pierce, as undecided as wanting in vigor

of intellect, turned gently round, patted the hideous monster on the

head--said he would do all he could to pacify him, though to appease

his discontent seemed impossible. Indeed, it was a fact that

notwithstanding much of the swill intended for the whiter portion of

the litter was sacrificed to this demanding brute, he illustrated his

gratitude by threatening to swallow Mr. Pierce into the bargain. This

was most unfortunate, seeing how much had been done to transplant the

breed to foreign lands.

"Mr. Smooth felt that for a President to be thus driven to extremes

was indeed an unenviable position. I told him I thought Young America

would do something, and, with a little advice concerning his

principles, passed on through the smoke and foam until I confronted

Uncle Jeff and Cousin Guth, both hard at work over a blazing fire,

frying a monster fish. Uncle Jeff's apron looked as if he did most of

the greasy work, while Guth looked on and directed the turns--now and

then whispering a word to the French cook, who with sparkling eye, and

oval olive face, and hair so glossy, black, and curly, was dexterously

compounding a luscious sauce. 'Going it on the strong!' said I, giving

Uncle Jeff a significant wedge under the shorts as he was about to let

the grease in the stew-pan fuzzle. Guth, who at the moment commenced

dredging in a little more pepper, and a little more butter, and a

small sprinkling of salt, said they had been trying to cook this old

fish for there was no knowing how many years, all to no purpose; but

now that the arts of the very best French cook in the country had been

secured he was sure to be done brown. Here he smiled and turned to the

cook in question, who bowed with such grace! Such a bow in the

presence of ladies would have secured his reputation. Indeed, the said

cook was extremely neat of person, though rather below the middle

stature, and was well thought of among lawyers and ladies, who

declared they liked his graces better than his gravies. 'He's of the

right stripe--a fillibuster cook!' said Jeff, exultingly, as Guth gave

the coals another stir. 'This is a Cuba flounder,' interposed

Guth. 'You see, Mr. Smooth, the General is exceedingly partial to this

sort of flounder, but he doesn't understand the quality of dressing

requisite to the cooking it--he must be done with native sauce. It is

necessary he should be fried in a southern griddle, with plenty of

native sauce--an article for which this cook of ours is not

celebrated.'

"'Well, gents!' rejoined I, 'if you do brown that old fellow this

season I'll knock under. However, don't be bashful about extending

Smooth an invitation to breakfast: understand, he is rather fond of a

good fish hash, which he thinks it is the profession of your French

cook to do up.'