"I am identified, young man, with a Arkymedian leaver which
moves the world," said the Editor, wiping his auburn brow with
his left coat-tail; "I allude, young man, to the press:
Terms, two dollars a year, invariably in advance. Job
printing executed with neatness and dispatch!" And with this
brilliant bust of elekance the Editor introduced Mr. J. Brutus
Hinkins, who is suffering from an attack of College in a
naberin' place. Mr. Hinkins said Washington was not safe.
Who can save our national capeetle?
"DAN SETCHELL," I said. "He can do it afternoons. Let him
plant his light and airy form onto the Long Bridge, make faces
at the hirelin' foe, and they'll skedaddle! Old SETCH can do
it."
"I call the Napoleon of Showmen," said the Editor of the
"Bugle,"--"I call that Napoleonic man, whose life is adorned
with so many noble virtues, and whose giant mind lights up
this warlike scene--I call him to order."
I will remark, in this connection, that the Editor of the
"Bugle" does my job printing.
"You," said Mr. Hinkins, "who live away from the busy haunts
of men do not comprehend the magnitood of the crisis. The
busy haunts of men is where people comprehend this crisis. We
who live in the busy haunts of men--that is to say, we dwell,
as it were, in the busy haunts of men."
"I really trust that the gen'l'man will not fail to say
suthin' about the busy haunts of men before he sits down,"
said I.
"I claim the right to express my sentiments here," said Mr.
Hinkins, in a slightly indignant tone, "and I shall brook no
interruption, if I am a Softmore."
"You couldn't be MORE SOFT, my young friend," I observed,
whereupon there was cries of Order! order!"
"I regret I can't mingle in this strife personally," said the
young man.
"You might inlist as a liberty-pole," said I, in a silvery
whisper.
"But," he added, "I have a voice, and that voice is for war."
The young man then closed his speech with some strikin and
orginal remarks in relation to the star-spangled banner. He
was followed by the village minister, a very worthy man
indeed, but whose sermons have a tendency to make people sleep
pretty industriously.
"I am willin' to inlist for one," he said.
"What's your weight, parson?" I asked.
"A hundred and sixty pounds," he said.
"Well, you can inlist as a hundred and sixty pounds of
morphine, your dooty bein' to stand in the hospitals arter a
battle, and preach while the surgical operations is bein'
performed! Think how much you'd save the Gov'ment in
morphine."
He didn't seem to see it; but he made a good speech, and the
editor of the "Bugle" rose to read the resolutions, commencin'
as follers:
RESOLVED, That we view with anxiety the fact that there is now
a war goin' on, and
RESOLVED, That we believe Stonewall Jackson sympathizes with
the secession movement, and that we hope the nine-months men--
At this point he was interrupted by the sounds of silvery
footsteps on the stairs, and a party of wimin, carryin' guns
and led by BETSY JANE, who brandish'd a loud and rattlin'
umbereller, burst into the room.
"Here," cried I, "are some nine-months wimin!"
"Mrs. Ward," said the editor of the "Bugle"--"Mrs. WARD and
ladies, what means this extr'ord'n'ry demonstration?"
"It means," said that remarkable female "that you men air
makin' fools of yourselves. You air willin' to talk and urge
others to go to the wars, but you don't go to the wars
yourselves. War meetin's is very nice in their way, but they
don't keep STONEWALL JACKSON from comin' over to Maryland and
helpin' himself to the fattest beef critters. What we want is
more cider and less talk. We want you able-bodied men to stop
speechifying, which don't 'mount to the wiggle of a sick cat's
tail, and to go fi'tin'; otherwise you can stay to home and
take keer of the children, while we wimin will go to the
wars!"
"Gentl'man," said I, "that's my wife! Go in, old gal!" and I
throw'd up my ancient white hat in perfeck rapters.
"Is this roll-book to be filled up with the names of men or
wimin?" she cried.
"With men--with men!" and our quoty was made up that very
night.
There is a great deal of gas about these war meetin's. A war
meetin', in fact, without gas, would be suthin' like the play
of HAMLET with the part of OTHELLO omitted.
Still believin' that the Goddess of Liberty is about as well
sot up with as any young lady in distress could expect to be,
I am
Yours more'n anybody else's,
A. Ward.