University of Virginia Library

8. LETTER VIII.

The Gineral's regard for the Yankees—Office-seekers—
New Presidential Recreations.

My good old Friend,—Ever since we got
`the Goverment' back here from the Rip-Raps,
we have been as busy as if we was all on us
cocking hay jest afore a shower.

I tell'd you some time ago that I and the
Gineral was fittin and jointin the beams and
rafters of the message; but almost every day
some plaguy new notion comes in from Mr.
Van Buren, and some other of our folks, and
we have to chizzle new mortices, and run new
braces and string pieces; so that I begin to
think it will look curious enuff when it's done.
The Gineral says he don't care how it fronts,
only he is detarmined to show a sharp corner
to the Nullifiers. We shall have a good deal
to say about the Grand Tower; there is nothin
since the 8th of January at New-Orleans
tickles the Gineral half so much. Every time

we talk about it, the Gineral gits right up, and
says he, `Major, I only wish I was 50 years
younger, and then,' says he, `give me the
Yankees east of Horse Neck, and I'd like no
better sport than to have nullification all over
the rest of creation.'

When things don't go right, and the Gineral
gits a little wrathy, if I only tell him the
Yankees are ready to back him, he is as firm
as granit. It would make you crawl all over
to read that letter we writ to France, when we
come to hear that the King there kinder shuffled
round that bill we drawed on him. `He
won't pay it, won't he?' says he—`Major,
what do you think of that?' `Why,' says I,
`Gineral, I think it's a nasty mean action—and
a darnation rascally one too,' says I. `Well,'
says he, `that's enuff,'—and then we writ the
letter,—its just like Zekel Bigelow's speech—
it cuts, shaves, and makes the hair fly—and if
it don't bring the money, I'm mistaken.'

If Mr. Livingston had stay'd one week
longer in York, the Gineral was for sendin
me right out, and Captain Jumper was jest
gettin the `Two Pollies' ready to take me.

The most curious part of `the Goverment'
here is to manage the office-seekers.

You see, things ain't now as they was afore
Mr. Van Buren's time; then it was kinder
divided round among the Departments.

The Post Master Gineral appinted all the
Post Masters, and their folks. The Secretary
of the Treasury appinted all the folks in the
Custom Houses, and all the folks who collected
money. These two had an everlastin batch
of fellers to appint, and made them feel pretty
considerable big, and then the War Secretary
had a good slice in appinting the cadets, and
Ingen agents, and all the contracts was kinder
sifted round among the Departments; and so
by the time a new President was to be made,
some of these Secretaries was a leetle bigger
than the President himself. Now this is the
way they kinder jockied Mr. Adams, who got
to be the smallest man at Washington, by letting
other folks plant his corn, and do his
huskin; and afore he know'd it, his own field
was all in weeds—and theirs, well-howed,
rich and clean as a whistle.

But things ain't so now; we've got only one
crib, and that's a whappin one too, and ony
one door to it; and when we shell out our
corn, we take good care and know well who

gets it, and where he is goin to plant it; and
that ain't all—we make 'em agree about the
Huskin Frolic,[1] for that's the best on't, arter
all.

The longer I am in `the Goverment,' the
more I larn. But I must allow, that of all the
inventions I've hearn on of Mr. Van Buren's,
this is about the slickest.

There is only one thing wantin, and that he
is tryin for pretty hard—and that is the Bank.
If he can only git that in the crib too, Virginny
fences wouldn't stop our cattle.

Only think what an everlastin raft of fellows
we should have—all the Presidents, and Cashiers,
and Clarks, and Money Counters, about
the crib, from Downingville to New-Orleans!
—and that ain't the best on't; we would have
a branch alongside every post office to keep
our postages safe.

I should like this well enuff if I was sartin
I and the Gineral and Mr. Van Buren was to
be here all the while, to keep a good look out
on the crib door. But the Gineral talks of
goin hum to put the Hermitage to rights;

and I am in the notion that Congress is a
leetle too strong for `the goverment,' when
the Gineral ain't in it—and I shall go with
him. I am eny most fag'd out myself; and
I begin to think with the Gineral I have done
enuff for the country.

We are lookin for Amos Kindle now every
hour. He writ the Gineral t'other day, and
tell'd him my `Bank Report' warn't true, and
that I must have got a loan of Squire Biddle.
Now that is jest the way with some folks.
What they don't know they guess at; and
it's jest so with old Miss Crane, who keeps the
tavern this side Downingville—jest as sure as
any one goes by without stoppin, the old crittur
says, `there goes so and so, and has got no
money too; and he knows I wouldn't trust
him.'

Howsumever, no one can make the Gineral
wrathy with me. He knows I am the best
friend about him; whenever they get things
in any kind of a twist, or a snarl, says he,
`Major, do you unravel that. I'm the big
wheel, and you are the smasher,' says he;
and then we jest give Peleg Bissel's churn a
turn or two, and all is right.

You don't print my letters right—you git

some words wrong, and spell 'em most infarnally.
Jest so the printers sarved the Gineral's
letters too; and folks thought he didn't
know nothin, till we got to Cambridge, where
they made a doctor on him.