LETTER CVI.
WHEREIN WILL BE FOUND CERTAIN PROFOUND REMARKS UPON THE VARIATIONS OF GOLD, ETC., AND A WHOLESOME LITTLE TALE ILLUSTRATIVE OF THAT FAMOUS POPULAR ABSTRACTION, THE SOUTHERN TREASURY NOTE.
WASHINGTON, D.C., March 22, 1865.
The venerable Aaron, my boy, was the first gold speculator mentioned inhistory, and it exhausted all the statesmanship of Moses to break upthe unseemly speculation, and bring Hebrew dry goods and provisionsdown to decent prices. Were Aaron alive now, how he would mourn to findhis auriferous calf going down at the rate of ten per cent. a day,while the Moses of the White House reduced that animal more and more tothe standard of very common mutton!
Alas, my boy, what madness is this which causes men to forget honor,country, ay, even dinner itself, for ungrateful gold! Like all writerswhose object is the moral improvement of their kind, I have a wholesomecontempt of gold. What is it? A vulgar-looking yellow metal, with adisagreeable smell. It is filthy lucre. It is dross. It is also 156.
Not many months ago I knew a high-toned chap of much neck and chin, whomade five hundred thousand dollars by supplying our national troopswith canned peaches, and was so inflated with his good luck in thecholera-morbus line, that he actually began to think that his cannedpeaches had something to do with the successes in the field of ourexcellent military organization. Being thus elevated, thisfinely-imaginative chap believed that his services deserved the missionto France; and, as that was refused him, it was but natural for him tobecome at once a Southern Confederacy in sentiment, and pronounce ourHonest Abe a tyrant of defective education.
Just before the last election, I met him at the Baltimore railroaddepot, and says he: "I have just invested a cool five hundred thousandin gold. It is positively sure," says he, glibly, "it is positivelysure that the reelection of our present despot will send gold straightup to five hundred. I tell you," says he, in a wild ecstasy, "it'llruin the country, and I shall clear a half million."
He was a Jerseyman of fine feelings, and took a little hard cider forhis often infirmity.
Yesterday I saw that man again, my boy, and I gave him a five-cent notein consideration of his great ability in sweeping a street-crossing. Hedeserted his canned peaches, and was cr-r-rushed.
But what is this manuscript upon my table, as I write? It is averacious and wholesome little tale of
"THE SOUTH.--BY A NORTHER.
"'Twas night, deep night, in the beautiful city of Richmond; and the chivalrous Mr. Faro was slowly wending his way through Broad street to the bosom of his Confederate family, when, suddenly, he was confronted by a venerable figure in rags, soliciting alms.
"'Out of my path, wretch!' ejaculated the haughty Virginian, impatiently; and, tossing two thousand dollars ($2000) to the unfortunate mendicant, he attempted to pass on.
"The starving beggar was about to give way, and had drawn near the barrel which he carried on a wheelbarrow, for the purpose of adding to its contents the pittance just received, when the small amount of the latter seemed to attract his attention for the first time, and again he threw himself in the way of the miserly aristocrat.
"'Moses Faro,' he muttered, in tones of profound agitation, 'you have your sheds full ($000000000) of Southern Bonds, while one poor barrel full ($000) must supply me for a whole day; yet would I not exchange places with a man capable of insulting honest poverty as you have done this night.'
"The proud Virginian felt the rebuke keenly; and as he stood, momentarily silent, in the presence of the hapless victim of penury, he could not help remembering that he had, on that very morning, willingly given his youngest son five thousand dollars ($5000) to purchase a kite and some marbles. Greatly stricken in conscience, and heartily ashamed of his recent meanness, he turned to the suppliant, and said, kindly:
"'Give me your address, and to-morrow morning I will send you a cart full ($000) of means. I would give you more now, but I have only sixty thousand dollars ($60,000) about me, with which to pay for the pair of boots I now have on.'
"'Moses Faro,' responded the deeply-affected pauper, 'your noble charity will enable me to pay the nine thousand dollars ($9000) I owe for a week's board; and now let me ask, how goes our sacred cause?'
"'Never brighter,' answered the wealthy Confederate, with enthusiasm. 'We have succeeded to-day in forcing five more cities through the Yankee lines, and are dragging three whole Hessian armies to this city.'
"'Then welcome poverty for a while longer,' cried the beggar, pathetically; and so great was his exuberance of spirit at the news, that he resolved to spend five hundred dollars ($500) for a cigar in honor thereof.
"Mr. Faro walked thoughtfully on toward his residence, pondering earnestly the words he had listened to, and astonished to find how easily a rich man could give happiness to a poor one. After all, thought he, there is more contentment in poverty than in riches. Show me the rich man who can boast the sturdy lightness of heart inspiring that hackneyed rhyme, the
"'CAROL OF THE CONFEDERATE BEGGAR.
"'Though but fifty thousand dollars Be the sum of all I own, Yet I'm merry with my begging, And I'm happy with my bone; Nor with any brother beggar Does my heart refuse to share, Though a thousand dollars only Be the most I have to spare.
"'I am shabby in my seven Hundred dollar hat of straw, And my dinner's but eleven Hundred dollars in the raw; Yet I hold my head the higher, That it owes the hatter least, And my scanty crumbs are sweeter Than the viands of a feast'.
"Humming to himself this simple lay of contented want, Mr. Faro reached his own residence, gave eighty dollars ($80) to a little boy on the sidewalk for blacking his boots, and entered the portals of the hospitable mansion. His wife met him in the hall, and, as they walked together into the parlor, he noticed that her expression was serious.
"'Have you heard the latest news, Moses?' she asked.
"'No,' returned the haughty Southerner.
"'Well,' said the lady, 'just before you came in, I gave Sambo a hundred and twelve dollars ($112) to get an evening paper, which says that the Confederate Government is about to seize all the money in the country, to pay the soldiers.'
"A gorgeous smile lit up the features of the chivalric Virginian, and he said:
"'Let them take both my shedsfull ($00000000); let them take it all! Sooner than submit, or consent to be Reconstructed, I would give my very life even, for the sake of the Confederacy!'
Mrs. Faro still looked serious.
"'Moses,' she said, with quivering lips, 'have you not got, hidden away somewhere, _a twenty-shilling gold-piece_ ($2,500,000)?'
"Ghastly pale turned the proud Confederate, and he could barely stammer,--
"'Ye-ye-yes.'
"'Well,' murmured the matron, 'it's the gold they intend to take, I reckon.'
"That was enough. Frantically tore Mr. Faro into the street; desperately raced he to the city limits; madly flew he past the pickets and sentinels; swiftly scoured he down the Boynton Plank Road. A Yankee bayonet was at his bosom.
"'Reconstruction!' shouted he.
"They took him before the nearest post-commandant, and he only said,--
"'Let me be Reconstructed.'"
Need the reader be informed that he is now in New York, looking for ahouse, and in great need of some financial aid to help him pay the rentof such a residence as he has always been accustomed to and cannot livewithout? Yes, far from home, family, and friends, he is now one ofthose long-suffering, self-sacrificing Union refugees from the South,whom it is a pleasure to assist, and whose manly opposition to themilitary despotism of the Confederacy commends them to our utmostliberality. He will accept donati
ons in money, and this fact should besufficient to make all loyal men eager to extend such pecuniaryencouragement as may suffice to keep him above any necessity forexertion until the presidency of some Bank can be procured for him bythe Christian Commission.
I may add, my boy, that any monetary contribution intended for thisexcellent man, may be directed to
Yours, patronizingly,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.