The last time I was at Paris, my boy, this interesting animal made agood breakfast off the calves of the General of the Mackerel Brigade'slegs, causing that great strategetical commander to issue enough oathsfor the whole Southern Confederacy.
"Thunder!" says the General, at the conclusion of his cursory remarks,"I shall have the hydrophobia and bite somebody. It's my opinion," saysthe General, hastily licking a few grains of sugar from the spoon hewas holding at the time, "it's my opinion that I shall go rabid as soonas I see water."
"Then you're perfectly safe, my conquering hero," says I; "for when_you_ see water, the Atlantic Ocean will be principally composed ofbrandy pale."
Speaking of Paris, it pains me, my boy, to say, that Captain VilliamBrown's Proclamation for the conciliation of southern Union men hasbeen repudiated by the General of the Mackerel Brigade.
"Thunder!" says the General, taking a cork from his pocket in mistakefor a watch-key, "it's against the Constitution to open a bar so faraway from where Congress sits."
And he at once issued the following
"PROCLAMATION.
"Whereas, There appears in the public prints what presumptuously pretends to be a proclamation of Captain Villiam Brown, Eskevire, in the words following, to wit:
'PROCLAMATION.
'The Union men of the South are hereby informed that the United States of America has reasserted hisself, and will shortly open a bar-room in Paris. Also, cigars and other necessaries of life.
'By order of
'CAPTAIN VILLIAM BROWN, Eskevire.'
"And whereas, the same is producing much excitement among those members from the Border States who would prefer that said bar-room should be nearer Washington, in case of sickness. Therefore, I, General of the Mackerel Brigade, do proclaim and declare that the Mackerel Brigade cannot stand this sort of thing, and that neither Captain Villiam Brown nor any other commander has been authorized to declare free lunch, either by implication or otherwise, in any State: much less in a state of intoxication, of which there are several.
"To persons in this State, now, I earnestly appeal. I do not argue: I beseech you to mix your own liquors. You cannot, if you would, be blind to the signs of the times, when such opportunity is offered to see double. I beg of you a calm and immense consideration of them (signs), ranging, it may be, above personal liquor establishments. The change you will receive after purchasing your materials will come gently as the dues from heaven--not rending nor wrecking anything. Will you not embrace me? May the extensive future not have to lament that you have neglected to do so.
"Yours, respectfully, the
"GENERAL OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE."
[Green seal.]
When Villiam read this conservative proclamation, my boy, he lookedthoughtfully into a recently-occupied tumbler for a few moments, andthen says he:
"There's some intelleck in that. The general covers the whole ground.Ah!" says Villiam, preparing, in a dreamy manner, to wash out thetumbler with something from a decanter, "the general so completelycovers the whole ground sometimes, that the police departmink isrequired to clear it."
I believe him, my boy.
The intelligent and reliable contrabands, my boy, who have come intoParis from time to time, with valuable news concerning all recentmovements not taking place in the Confederacy, were formed lately byVilliam, into a military company, called the Sambory Guard, Captain BobShorty being deputed to drill them in the colored-manual of arms. Theywere dressed in flaming red breeches and black coats, my boy, and eachchaotic chap looked like a section of stove-pipe walking about on tworadishes.
I attended the first drill, my boy, and found the oppressed Africansstanding in a line about as regular as so many trees in a maple swamp.
Captain Bob Shorty whipped out his sleepless sword, straightened it ona log, stepped to the front, and was just about to give the firstorder, when, suddenly, he started, threw up his nose, and stoodparalyzed.
"What's the matter, my blue and gilt?" says I.
He stood like one in a dream, and says he:
"'Pears to me I smell something."
"Yes," says I; "'tis the scent of the roses that hangs round it still."
"True," says Captain Bob Shorty, recovering, "it does smell like acent; and I haven't seen a cent of my pay for such a long time, thatthe novelty of the odor knocked me. Attention, company!"
Only five of the troops were enough startled by this sudden order, myboy, to drop their guns, and only four stooped down to tie their shoes.One very reliable contraband left the ranks, and says he:
"Mars'r, hadn't Brudder Rhett better gub out the hymn before theservice commence?"
"Order in the ranks!" says Captain Bob Shorty, with some asperity,"Attention, Company!--Order Arms!"
The troops did this very well, my boy, the muskets coming down atintervals of three minutes, bringing each man's cap with them, andpointing so regularly toward all points of the compass, that no foecould possibly approach from any direction without running on abayonet.
"Excellent!" says Captain Bob Shorty, with enthusiasm. "Only, Mr.Rhett, you needn't hold your gun quite so much like a hoe. Carry arms!"
Here Mr. Dana stepped out from the ranks, and says he:
"Carrie who, mars'r?"
"Go to the rear," says Captain Bob Shorty, indignantly. "Present Arms!"
If Present Arms means to stick your bayonet into the next man's side,my boy, the troops did it very well.
"Splendid!" says Captain Bob Shorty. "Shoulder Arms--EyesRight--Double-quick, March! On to Richmond!"
The troops obeyed the order, my boy, and haven't been seen since.Perhaps they're going yet, my boy.
Company 3, Regiment 5, Mackerel Brigade, started for an advance onRichmond yesterday, and by a forced march got within three miles of it.Another march brought them within five miles of the place; and the lastdespatch stated that they had but ten miles to go before reaching therebel capital.
Military travel, my boy, is like the railroad at the West, where theyhad to make chalk marks on the track to see which way the train wasgoing.
Yours, on time,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XLVII.
INTRODUCING A POEM BASED UPON AN IDEA THAT IS IN VIOLET--A POEM FORWHICH ONE OF THE WOMEN OF AMERICA IS SOLELY RESPONSIBLE.
WASHINGTON, D.C., May 24th, 1862.
One of the Northern women of America, my boy, has sent me a note, forthe express purpose of expressing her hatred of the SouthernConfederacy. She says, my boy, that the Confederacy is a miserable man,only fit for pecuniary dishonesty; and that even the gentle WilliamShakspeare couldn't help revealing the peculiar failing of theFloydulent section when he spoke so feelingly of
"The sweet South, That breathes upon a bank of Violets, _Stealing_ and giving odor."
A fair hit, my boy--a fair hit; and sorry should I be to let the sweetSouth breathe upon any kind of a bank in which I had a deposit.
Speaking of violets; the woman of America sent one of those prettyflowers in her note; and, as I looked upon it, I thought how fit it wasto be
THE SOLDIER'S EPITAPH.
The woodlands caught the airy fire upon their vernal plumes, And echoed back the waterfall's exultant, trilling laugh, And through the branches fell the light in slender golden blooms To write upon the sylvan stream the Naiad's epitaph.
On either side the sleeping vale the mountains swelled away, Like em'ralds in the mourning ring that circles round the world And through the flow'r-enamel'd plain the river went astray, Like scarf of lady silver'd o'er around a standard furled.
The turtle wooed his gentle mate, where thickest hung the boughs, While round them fell the blossoms plucked by robins' wanton bills; And on its wings the zephyr caught the music of his vows, To waft a strain responsive to the chorus of the hills.
'Twas in a nook beside the stream where grapes in clusters fell, And twixt the trees the swaying vines were lost in leafy showers, That fauns and satyrs, tamed to rest beneath the noonday spell, Gave silent ear and witness to the meeting of the flowers.
The glories of the fields were there in summer's bright array, The virgins of the temple vast where Noon to Ev'ning nods, To crown as queen of all the rest whose bosom should display The signet of a mission blest, the cipher of the gods.
The royal Lily's sceptred cup besought an airy lip, The Rose's stooping coyness told the bee was at her heart, While all the other sisters round, with many a dainty dip, Sought jewels hidden in the grass, and waved its spears apart.
"We seek a queen," the Lily said, "and she shall wear the crown Who to the Mission of the Blest the fairest right shall prove; For unto her, whoe'er she be, has come in sunlight down The badge of Nature's Royalty, from angel hands above.
"I go to deck the wreath that binds a fair, imperial brow, Whose whiteness shall not be the less that mine is purer still; For though a band of sparkling gems is set upon it now, 'Twill be the fairer that the Church in me beholds her will."
"I claim a loyal suitor's touch," the Rose ingenuous said, "And he will choose me when he seeks the bow'r of lady fair, To match me, with a smile, against her cheek's betraying red, And place me, with a kiss, within the shadows of her hair."
And next the proud Camellia spoke: "Where festal music swells, And solemn priest, with gown and book, a knot eternal ties, I go to hold the vail of her who hears her marriage-bells, And pledges all her life unto the Love that never dies."
The Laurels raised their glowing heads, and into language broke: "'Tis ours to honor gallant deeds that awe a crouching world; We rest upon the warrior's helm when fades the battle's smoke, And bloom perennial on the shield that back the foeman hurled."
And other sisters of the field, the woodland, and the vale, Each told the story of her work, and glorified her quest; But none of all the noble ones had yet revealed the tale That taught them from the gods she wore the signet in her breast.
At length the zephyr raised a leaf, the lowliest of the low, And there, behold a Violet the Spring let careless slip; Beyond its season blooming there where newer beauties grow, Enshrined like an immortal thought that lives beyond the lip.
"We greet thy presence, little one," the graceful Lily said, And quivered with a silent laugh behind her snowy screen, "Upraise unto the open sun thy modest little head; For here, perchance, in thee at last the Flow'rs have found their queen."
A tremor shook the timid flower, and soft her answer came: "'Tis but a simple duty left to one so small as I; And yet I would not yield it up for all the higher fame Of nodding on a hero's helm, or catching beauty's eye.
"I go to where an humble mound uprises in a field, To mark the place of one whose life was lost a land to save; Where bannered pomp no birth attests, nor marbled sword nor shield; I go to deck," the Violet said, "a simple soldier's grave."
There fell a hush on all the flowers; but from a distant grove Burst forth the anthem of the birds in one grand peal of praise; As though the stern old Forest's heart had found its early love, And all of earth's sublimity was melted in its lays!
Then, as the modest flower upturned her blue eyes to the sun, There fell a dewdrop on her breast as shaken from a tree; The lowliest of the sisterhood the godlike Crown had won; For hers it was to consecrate Truth's Immortality.
The woodlands caught the airy fire upon their vernal plumes, And echoed back the waterfall's exultant, trilling laugh; And through the branches fell the light in slender golden blooms, To sanctify the Violet, the Soldier's Epitaph.
I asked the General of the Mackerel Brigade, the other day, what kindof a flower he thought would spring above my head when I rested in asoldier's sepulchre? and he said "A cabbage!" my boy--he said "Acabbage!"
Yours, inversely,
ORPHEUS C. KERR.
LETTER XLVIII.
TREATING CHIEFLY OF A TERRIBLE PANIC WHICH BROKE OUT IN PARIS, BUTSUBSEQUENTLY PROVED TO BE ONLY A NATURAL EFFECT OF STRATEGY.
WASHINGTON, D.C., June 1st, 1862.
It is my belief--my solemn and affecting belief, my boy, that our oncedistracted country is destined to be such a great military powerhereafter, that an American citizen will be distinguishable in any partof the world by his commission as a brigadier. Even Congressmen willanswer to the command of "Charge--mileage!" and it is stated that sonsof guns in every variety are already being born at the West--sons of"Pop" guns, my boy.
The last time the General of the Mackerel Brigade was here, he was somuch pleased with the high state of strategy developed at the WarOffice, that he visited all the bar-rooms in Washington, and orderedthe tumblers to be at once illuminated.
"Thunder!" says the general to Colonel Wobert Wobinson, of the WesternCavalry, as they were taking measures to prevent any possible mistakeby seeing the enemy double, "this war is making great tacticians of thewhole nation, and if I wanted my sons to become Napoleons, I'd put theminto the War Office for a week. My sons! my sons!" says the generalhysterically, motioning for a little more hot water, "why are you nothere with me in glory, instead of remaining home there, like ripe plumson the parent tree."
"Plums! plums!" says Colonel Wobinson, thoughtfully. "Ah! I see," saysthe colonel, pleasantly, "your sons are damsons."
The general eyed the speaker with much severity of countenance, my boy,and says he:
"If _you_ have any sons, my friend, they are probably fast young men,and take after their father--at the approach of the enemy."
The general is rather proud of his sons, my boy, one of whom wrote thefollowing, which he keeps pinned against the wall of his room:--
POOR PUSSY.
We count mankind and keep our census still, We count the stars that populate the night; But who, with all his computation, can Con catty nations right?
In all the lands, in zones of all degrees, No spot im-puss-able is known to be; And sure, the ocean can't ignore the Cat, Whose capital is C.
Despise her not; for Nature, in the work Of making her, remembered human laws, And gave to Puss strange gifts of human sort; Before she made her paws:
First, Puss is like a soldier, if you please; Or, like a soldier's officer, in truth; For every night brings ample proof she is A fencer from her youth.
A model cosmopolitan is she, Indifferent to change of place or time; And, like the hardy sailor of the seas, Inured to every climb.
Then, like a poet of the noble sort, Who spurns the ways of ordinary crews, She courts the upper-storied attic salt, And hath her private mews.
In mathematics she eclipses quite Our best professors of the science hard, When, by her quadrupedal mode, she shows Her four feet in a yard.
To try the martial simile once more: She apes the military drummer-man, When, at appropriate hours of day and night, She makes her ratty plan.
She is a lawyer to the hapless rat, Who strives in vain to fly her fee-line paws, Evading once, but to be caught again In her redeeming claws.
Then turn not from poor Pussy in disdain, Whose pride of ancestry may equal thine; For is she not a blood-descendant of The ancient Catty line?
Speaking of strategy, my boy, you will remember that Company 3,Regiment 5, Mackerel Brigade, started for an advance on Richmond lastweek, and were within ten miles of that city. Subsequently they madeanother forced march of five miles, leaving only fifteen miles to go;and on Tuesday, a messenger came in from them to Captain Villiam Brown,with the intelligence that the advance was already within twenty-f
ivemiles of the rebel head-quarters.
"Ha!" says Villiam, "the Confederacy is doomed; but I must curb theadvancing impetuosity of these devoted beings, or they'll be in Canadain a week. I think," says Villiam, calculatingly, "that a retreat wouldbring us to the summer residence of the Southern Confederacy in lesstime."
Here another messenger came in from the Richmond storming party, and,says he:
"The advance on Richmond has failed in consequence of the shoesfurnished by the United States of America."
"Ah!" says Villiam, hastily setting down a goblet.
"Yes," says the chap, mournfully, "them air shoes has demoralizedCompany 3, which is advancing back to Paris at double-quick. Themshoes," says the chap, "which was furnished by the sons ofRevolutionary forefathers by a contractor, at only twenty-five dollarsa pair for the sake of the Union, has caused a fatal mistake. They gotso ragged with being exposed to the wind, that when Company 3 hastilyput them on for an advance on Richmond, they got the heels in front andhave been going in the wrong direction ever since."
"Where did you leave your comrades?" says Villiam.
"At Joneses Court House," says the chap.
"Ah!" says Villiam, "is that a healthy place?"
"No," says the chap, "it's very unhealthy--I was drunk all the time Iwas there."
"I see," says Villiam, with great agitation, "my brave comrades are ina tight place. Let all the newspaper correspondents be ordered to leaveParis at once," says Villiam to his adjutants, "and we'll take measuresfor a second uprising of the North."