University of Virginia Library

MY LETTERS.

[Note by the Editor. The political struggle in the Legislature
of Maine in the winter of 1830 will long be remembered. The
preceding electioneering campaign had been carried on with a bitterness
and personality unprecedented in the State, and so nearly
were the parties divided, that before the meeting of the Legislature
to count the votes for Governor both sides confidently claimed the
victory. Hence the members came together with feelings highly
excited, prepared to dispute every inch of ground, and ready to
take fire at the first spark which collision might produce. A fierce
war commenced at the first moment of the meeting, and continued
for about six weeks without intermission, before they succeeded in
organizing the government. It was during this state of things that
Mr Downing fortunately happened to drop into the Legislature,
when his prolific genius was at once fired to record the scenes that
were passing before him, for the edification not only of the present
generation but of remote posterity. In explanation of the first letter,
it may be remarked, that as soon as the Representatives had
assembled, Albert Smith, Esq. of Nobleborough, the present Marshal
of Maine, called them to order, and nominated Mr White of Monmouth,
Chairman, who was declared elected without ceremony, and
took the chair. After he had occupied it two days Mr Goodenow
was elected Speaker.]

LETTER I.

Dear Cousin Ephraim. — I now take my pen in hand
to let you know that I am well, hoping these few lines

will find you enjoying the same blessing. When I come
down to Portland I did n't think o' staying more than
three or four days, if I could sell my load of ax handles,
and mother's cheese, and cousin Nabby's bundle of
footings; but when I got here I found uncle Nat was
gone a freighting down to Quoddy, and ant Sally said
as how I should n't stir a step home till he come back
agin, which wont be this month. So here I am, loitering
about this great town, as lazy as an ox. Ax handles
dont fetch nothing, I could n't hardly give 'em away.
Tell cousin Nabby I sold her footings for nine-pence a
pair, and took it all in cotton cloth. Mother's cheese
come to five-and-sixpence; I got her half a pound of
shushon, and two ounces of snuff, and the rest in sugar.
When uncle Nat comes home I shall put my ax handles
aboard of him, and let him take 'em to Boston next
time he goes; I saw a feller tother day, that told me
they'd fetch a good price there.—I've been here now a
whole fortnight, and if I could tell ye one half I've seen,
I guess you'd stare worse than if you'd seen a catamount.
I've been to meeting, and to the museum, and
to both Legislaters, the one they call the House, and
the one they call the Sinnet. I spose uncle Joshua is
in a great hurry to hear something about these Legislaters;
for you know he's always reading newspapers,
and talking politics, when he can get any body to talk
with him. I've seen him, when he had five tons of hay
in the field well made, and a heavy shower coming up,
stand two hours disputing with squire W. about Adams
and Jackson, one calling Adams a tory and a fed, and
the other saying Jackson was a murderer and a fool;
so they kept it up, till the rain began to pour down, and
about spoilt all his hay.

Uncle Joshua may set his heart at rest about the bushel
of corn that he bet long with the post-master, that Mr
Ruggles would be Speaker of that Legislater, they call
the House; for he 's lost it, slick as a whistle. As I

had n't much to do, I 've been there every day since
they 've been a setting. A Mr White of Monmouth was
the Speaker the two first days; and I cant see why they
did n't keep him in all the time; for he seemed to be a
very clever good-natured sort of man, and he had such a
smooth pleasant way with him, that I could n't help feeling
sorry when they turned him out and put in another.
But some said he was n't put in hardly fair; and I dont
know as he was, for the first day when they were all coming
in and crowding round, there was a large fat man,
with a round, full, jolly sort of a face, I suppose he was
the captain, for he got up and commanded them to come
to order, and then he told this Mr White to whip into the
chair quicker than you could say Jack Robinson. Some
of 'em scolded about it, and I heard some, in a little
room they called the lobby, say 'twas a mean trick; but
I could n't see why, for I thought Mr White made a capital
Speaker, and when our company turns out you know
the captain always has a right to do as he 's a mind to.

They kept disputing most all the time the two first
days about a poor Mr Roberts from Waterborough.
Some said he should n't have a seat, because he adjourned
the town meeting, and was n't fairly elected. Others
said it was no such thing, and that he was elected as
fairly as any of 'em.—And Mr Roberts himself said he
was, and said he could bring men that would swear to it,
and good men too. But notwithstanding all this, when
they came to vote, they got three or four majority that
he should n't have a seat. And I thought it a needless
piece of cruelty, for they want crowded, and there was
a number of seats empty. But they would have it so,
and the poor man had to go and stand up in the lobby.

Then they disputed awhile about a Mr Fowler's having
a seat. Some said he should n't have a seat, because
when he was elected some of his votes were given for his
father. But they were more kind to him than they were
to Mr Roberts; for they voted that he should have a seat;

and I suppose it was because they thought he had a lawful
right to inherit whatever was his father's. They all
declared there was no party politics about it, and I dont
think there was; for I noticed that all who voted that Mr
Roberts should have a seat, voted that Mr Fowler should
not; and all who voted that Mr Roberts should not have
a seat, voted that Mr Fowler should. So, as they all voted
both ways, they must have acted as their consciences
told them, and I dont see how there could be any party
about it.

It 's a pity they could n't be allowed to have two speakers,
for they seemed to be very anxious to choose Mr
Ruggles and Mr Goodenow. They two had every vote,
except one, and if they had had that, I believe they would
both have been chosen; as it was, however, they both came
within a humbird's eye of it. Whether it was Mr Ruggles
that voted for Mr Goodenow, or Mr Goodenow for
Mr Ruggles, I can't exactly tell; but I rather guess it was
Mr Ruggles voted for Mr Goodenow, for he appeared to
be very glad that Mr Goodenow was elected, and went up
to him soon after Mr Goodenow took the chair, and shook
hands with him as good-natured as could be. I would
have given half my load of ax handles, if they could both
have been elected and set up there together, they would
have been so happy. But as they can't have but one
speaker at a time, and as Mr Goodenow appears to understand
the business very well, it is not likely Mr Ruggles
will be speaker any this winter. So uncle Joshua
will have to shell out his bushel of corn, and I hope it
will learn him better than to bet about politics again. If
he had not been a goose, he might have known he would
loose it, even if he had been ever so sure of getting it;
for in these politics there 's never any telling which way
the cat will jump. You know, before the last September
election, some of the papers that came to our town had
found out that Mr Hunton would have five thousand
majority of the votes. And some of the other papers had

found out that Mr Smith would have five thousand majority.
But the cat jumped 'tother way to both of 'em; for
I cant find yet as either of 'em has got any majority.
Some say Mr Hunton has got a little majority, but as far
from five thousand as I am from home. And as for Mr
Smith, they dont think he has any majority at all. You
remember, too, before I came from home, some of the
papers said how there was a majority of ten or fifteen
national republicans in the Legislater, and the other papers
said there was a pretty clever little majority of democratic
republicans. Well, now every body says it has turned
out jest as that queer little paper, called the Daily Courier,
said 't would. That paper said it was such a close
rub, it could n't hardly tell which side would beat. And it
's jest so, for they 've been here now most a fortnight acting
jest like two boys playin see-saw on a rail. First one
goes up, then 'tother; but I reckon one of the boys is
rather heaviest, for once in awhile he comes down chuck,
and throws the other up into the air as though he would
pitch him head over heels.

In that 'tother Legislater they call the Sinnet, there
has been some of the drollest carryins on that you ever
heard of. If I can get time I 'll write you something
about it, pretty soon. So I subscribe myself, in haste,
your loving cousin till death.

LETTER II.

Dear Uncle Joshua. — I spose you learnt by my letter
t'other day to cousin Ephraim, that you had lost the
bushel of corn you bet about the Speaker in the Legislater;
I mean that Legislater they call the House; for
Mr White got it first, and then Mr Goodenow got it, and
he's kept it ever since. And they say he'll be Speaker
all winter, although he don't speak near so much as
some the rest of 'em. There's lawyer Ruggles, of
Thomaston, that used to be Speaker, and folks say he
made a very smart one. And there's lawyer Boutelle,
of Waterville, who's got eyes sharp enough to look
through any body, and who makes 'em all as still as
mice when he speaks. And there's lawyer Smith of
Nobleborough; he looks very much like a man I saw
in the museum, that they called Daniel Lambert, only
he is'nt quite so large; but my patience, he's a real
peeler for speaking, and sometimes he pours out his
voice so as to make me jump right up on my feet. If

I was going to bet who would be Speaker next year, I
should bet upon him before any body else. And there's
lawyer Bourne, of Kennebunk, and lawyer Kent, of
Bangor, and lawyer Norton, of Milburn, and doctor
Burnham, of Orland, and doctor Shaw of Wiscasset, and
doctor Wells, of Freeport, and parson Knowlton, of
Montville, and parson Swett, of Prospect, and some
others, if I could only think of 'em. Now, most any
of these speak more than Mr Goodenow does; and still
Mr Goodenow is called the Speaker, because they voted
that he should be. They've disputed two days more
about that poor Mr Roberts having a seat. I can't see
why they need to make such a fuss about it. As they've
got seats enough, why don't they let him have one, and
not keep him standing up for three weeks in the lobby
and round the fire; its a plaguy sight worse than being
on a standing committee, for they say the standing committees
have a chance to set most every day. But in
the dispute about Mr Roberts last Wednesday and
Thursday, the difficulty seemed to be something or other
about a primy facy case. I don't know what sort of a
case 'twas, but that's what they called it. Some said he
hadn't got any primy facy case, and he mus'nt have a
seat till he had one. The others stood to it that he had
got one, and a very good one; Mr Ruggles said it was
full as good a one as the gentlemen from Portland had.
And they read above twenty papers that they called depositions,
about the town meeting at Waterborough; but
they didn't seem to say any thing about the primy facy
case. About one half of 'em said the town meeting
was adjourned, and t'other half said twas'nt. And one
of the depositions said there was some of 'em at the
meeting agreed that Mr Roberts should n't be elected at
any rate; and if they could n't prevent it any other
way, they agreed to keep up a row till midnight. And
when they brought in candles in the evening, they
knocked 'em all over, and put 'em out. So they all
had to clear out; and some said there was a vote to adjourn
the meeting, and some said Mr Roberts adjourned
it alone, and some said 'twasn't adjourned at all. And
one of the depositioners said Mr Roberts offered to give
him as much rum as he would drink, if he would only
say the meeting was fairly adjourned. But all the depositions
didn't convince but sixty-nine members of the
House that Mr Roberts had a primy facy case; and
there were seventy-five convinced t'other way. So, after
they had disputed two days, they voted again that
Mr Roberts shouldn't have a seat yet.

O dear, uncle Joshua, these Legislaters have got the
State into a dreadful pickle. I've been reading the Portland
Argus and the Portland Advertiser, and it's enough
to scare a Bunker Hill sojer out of his seven senses, to
see what we are all coming to. According to these papers,
there are two very clever parties in the State, that
are trying with all their might to save us from ruin.
They are called democratic republikins, and national republikins;
and you'd be pefectly astonished to see how
hard they've worked, as these papers say, in both Legislaters,
to set things right, and get business a going on
well, so that we can have a governor, and live in peace
and harmony, and not break out into a civil war, and all
be ruined in a bunch. But it's doubtful if they'll make
out to save us after all; for there is such a set of Jacksonites
and Huntonites, that are all the time a plotting
to bring us to destruction, that I tell ye what 'tis, if
something isn't done pretty soon, it'll be gone goose
with us.

These Jacksonites and Huntonites seem to have a
majority in the Legislaters; and they 've been making a
proper bother for a most three weeks, so that the democratic
republikins and the national republikins could n't
do nothing at all. And sometimes I'm really afraid
they'll have to break up and go home without doing
any thing; and if they do, they say we shall all be afloat,

and there's no knowing where we shall land. The republikins
appointed a committee to count the votes for
governor, and the committee told 'em t'other day, there
was 39 majority for Mr Hunton, and he was elected.
But then these Jacksonites and Huntonites went to disputing
about the matter; and some say they will dispute
it this fortnight yet. What a blessing it would be
if the Legislaters were all democratic and national republikins.
The people are growing pretty mad at all
this botheration, and I can't tell what'll be the end on't.
But I shall write again to you or cousin Ephraim pretty
soon. So I remain your loving neefu till death.

LETTER III.

Dear Cousin Jack. — If you were only here, I would
break the handle of our old birch broom over your back
for serving me such a caper. Here I have been waiting
three weeks for that cotton cloth you got for the footings;
and you know the meeting-house windows were
to have been broke a fortnight ago, if I had got it. And
then I had to tell Sam, I was waiting for some cotton
cloth. He tried to keep in with all his might, but he
burst out a laughing so, I'm a good mind to turn him off.
But if I do, you and he will be both in the same pickle.
You had better let them legislaters alone; and if you
can't sell your ax handles, take 'em and come home

and mind your business. There is Jemima Parsons
romping about with the school-master, fair weather and
foul. Last Wednesday she went a sleigh-riding with him,
and to-night she's going to the singing-school, and he is
going to carry her. Last night she came over to our
house, and wanted me to go to uncle Zeke's to borry
their swifts, she said, when she knew we had some, and
had borried them a dozen times. I said nothing, but
went with her. When we got there, who should we find
but the school-master. — I know Jemime knew it, and
went there purpose to have him go home with her. She
never askt for the swifts. Coming home, the master
askt her if she had seen your last letter. She said yes,
and began to laugh and talk about you, just as tho' I
was no relation. She said she guessed them legislaters
would try to make a governor out of you next, if you
staid there much longer. One of them steers you sold
to Jacob Small that week you went to Portland, died
t'other day; and he says if we have no governor this
year, he wont pay you a cent for 'em. So you have
lost your steers and Jemima Parsons, jest by your dallying
about there among them legislaters. I say you had
better come home, and see to your own business. I spose
father and brother Eph. would like to have you stay
there all winter and tell 'em about the governors and
legislaters, but ant wants her tea, and I want my cotton
cloth, so I wish you'd make haste home and bring
'em.

LETTER IV.

Dear Nephew, — I left home just after your letter to
your cousin Ephraim got there, and I didn't get a sight
of your letter to me that you put into the Courier at
Portland, until I saw it in the Daily Advertiser in Boston,
and I guess Mr Hale is the only person in Boston who
takes that are little Courier, so you was pretty safe
about the letter not being seen, as the printer promised
you. — How I happened to see it here, you will find out
before I have got through with this letter. I guess you
wont be a little struck up when you find out that I'm in
Boston — but I had best begin at the beginning and then
I shall get thro' quicker.

After seeing your letter to Ephraim as I said before,
I concluded it wouldn't be a bad scheme to tackle up
and take a load of turkies, some apple-sauce, and other
notions that the neighbors wanted to get to market, and
as your uncle Nat would be in Boston with the ax handles,
we all thought best to try our luck there. Nothing
happened worth mentioning on the road, nor till next
morning after I got here and put up in Elm street. I
then got off my watch pretty curiously, as you shall be

informed. I was down in the bar room, and tho't it well
enough to look pretty considerable smart, and now and
then compared my watch with the clock in the bar,
and found it as near right as ever it was — when a feller
stept up to me and ask'd how I'd trade? and says I, for
what? and says he, for your watch — and says I, any
way that will be a fair shake — upon that says he, I'll
give you my watch and five dollars. — Says I, its done!
He gave me the five dollars, and I gave him my watch.
Now, says I, give me your watch — and, says he, with a
loud laugh, I han't got none — and that kind aturn'd
the laugh on me. Thinks I, let them laugh that lose.
Soon as the laugh was well over, the feller thought he'd
try the watch to his ear — why, says he, it dont go —
no, says I, not without its carried — then I began to
laugh — he tried to open it and couldn't start it a hair,
and broke his thumb nail into the bargain. Won't she
open, says he? Not's I know on, says I — and then the
laugh seemed to take another turn.

Don't you think I got off the old Brittania pretty well,
considrin? And then I thought I'd go and see about
my load of turkies and other notions. I expected to
have gone all over town to sell my load, but Mr Doolittle
told me if I'd go down to the new market, I should
find folks enough to buy all I had at once. So down I
goes, and a likely kind of a feller, with an eye like a
hawk and quick as a steeltrap for a trade, (they called
him a 4th staller,) came up to the wagon, and before
you could say Jack Robinson, we struck a bargain for
the whole cargo — and come to weigh and reckon up, I
found I should get as much as 10s6d more than any of
us calculated before I left home, and had the apple-sauce
left besides. So I thought I'd jist see how this
4th staller worked his card to be able to give us so good
a price for the turkies, and I went inside the market-house,
and a grander sight I never expect to see! But
it was the 3d staller, instead of the 4th, had my turkies

all sorted and hung up, and looking so much better that
I hardly should known 'em. Pretty soon, a gentleman
asked the 3d staller what he asked for turkies? Why,
says he, if you want something better than you ever saw
before, there's some 'twas killed last night purpose for
you. You may take 'em at 9d, being it's you. I'll give
you 12 cents, said the gentleman, as I've got some of
the General Court to dine with me, and must treat well.
I shant stand for half a cent with an old customer, says
he. And so they traded; and in about the space of half
an hour or more, all my turkies went into baskets at that
rate. The 4th staller gave me 6d a pound, and I began
to think I'd been a little too much in a hurry for trade —
but's no use to cry for spilt milk. Then I went up to the
State House to see what was going on there; but I
thought I'd get off my apple-sauce on my way — and
seeing a sign of old clothes bartered, I stepped in and
made a trade, and got a whole suit of superfine black
broadcloth from from top to toe, for a firkin of apple-sauce,
(which didn't cost much I guess, at home.)

Accordingly I rigged myself up in the new suit, and
you 'd hardly known me. I did n't like the set of the
shoulders, they were so dreadful puckery; but the man
said that was all right. I guess he 'll find the apple
sauce full as puckery when he gets down into it — but
that 's between ourselves. Well, when I got up to the
State House I found them at work on the rail road —
busy enough I can tell you — they got a part of it made
already. I found most all the folks kept their hats on
except the man who was talking out loud and the man
he was talking to — all the rest seemed to be busy about
their own consarns. As I did n't see any body to talk to
I kept my hat on and took a seat, and look'd round to
see what was going on. I had n't been setting long
before I saw a slick-headed, sharp-eyed little man,
who seemed to have the principal management of the
folks, looking at me prety sharp, as much as to say who

are you? but I said nothing and looked tother way — at
last he touched me on the shoulder — I thought he was
feeling of the puckers. Are you a member? says he—
sartin says I — how long have you taken your seat?
says he. About ten minutes, says I. Are you qualified?
says he. I guess not, says I. And then he left me. I
did n't know exactly what this old gentleman was after
— but soon he returned and said it was proper for me
to be qualified before I took a seat, and I must go before
the governor! By Jing! I never felt so before in all my
born days. As good luck would have it, he was beckoned
to come to a man at the desk, and as soon as his back
was turned I give him the slip. Jest as I was going off,
the gentleman who bought my turkies of the 4th staller
took hold of my arm, and I was afraid at first that he
was going to carry me to the Governor — but he began
to talk as sociable as if we had been old acquaintances.
How long have you been in the house, Mr Smith, says
he. My name is Downing, said I. I beg your pardon,
says he — I mean Downing. It 's no offence, says I, I
hav'nt been here long. Then says he in a very pleasan
way, a few of your brother members are to take pot-luck
with me to day, and I should be happy to have you join
them. What 's pot-luck said I. O, a family dinner,
says he — no ceremony. I thought by this time I was
well qualified for that without going to the Governor.
So says I, yes, and thank ye too. How long before
you 'll want me, says I. At 3 o'clock, says he, and gave
me a piece of paste board with his name on it — and
the name of the street, and the number of his house,
and said that would show me the way. Well, says I, I
dont know of nothing that will keep me away. And
then we parted. I took considerable liking to him.

After strolling round and seeing a great many things
about the State House and the marble immage of Gin.
Washington, standing on a stump in the Porch, I went
out into the street they call Bacon street, and my stars!

what swarms of women folks I saw all drest up as if
they were going to meeting. You can tell cousin Polly
Sandburn, who you know is no slimster, that she
need n't take on so about being genteel in her shapes —
for the genteelest ladies here beat her as to size all hollow.
I dont believe one of 'em could get into our fore
dore — and as for their arms — I should n't want better
measure for a bushel of meal than one of their sleeves
could hold. I shant shell out the bushel of corn you say
I 've lost on Speaker Ruggles at that rate. But this
puts me in mind of the dinner which Mr. — wants
I should help the Gineral Court eat. So I took out the
piece of paste board, and began to inquire my way and
got along completely, and found the number the first
time — but the door was locked, and there was no
knocker, and I thumpt with my whip handle, but nobody
come. And says I to a man going by, dont nobody live
here? and says he yes. Well, how do you get in? Why,
says he, ring; and says I, ring what? And says he, the
bell. And says I where 's the rope? And says he, pull
that little brass nub; and so I gave it a twitch, and I 'm
sure a bell did ring; and who do you think opened the
door with a white apron afore him? You could n't
guess for a week a Sundays — so I 'll tell you. It was
Stephen Furlong, who kept our district school last winter,
for 5 dollars a month, and kept bachelor's hall, and
helped tend for Gineral Coombs a training days, and
make out muster rolls. We was considerably struck up
at first, both of us; and when he found I was going to
eat dinner with Mr. — and Gineral Court, he
thought it queer kind of doings — but says he, I guess
it will be as well for both of us not to know each other
a bit more than we can help. And says I, with a wink,
you 're half right, and in I went. There was nobody
in the room but Mr. — and his wife, and not a sign
of any dinner to be seen any where — though I thought
now and then when a side door opened, I could smell
cupboard, as they say.

I thought I should be puzzled enough to know what
to say, but I had 'nt my thoughts long to myself. Mr
— has about as nimble a tongue as you ever heard,
and could say ten words to my one, and I had nothing
to do in the way of making talk. Just then I heard a
ringing, and Stephen was busy opening the door and
letting in the Gineral Court, who all had their hats off,
and looking pretty scrumptious, you may depend. I
did 'nt see but I could stand along side of 'em without
disparagement, except to my boots, which had just got
a lick of beeswax and tallow — not a mite of dinner yet,
and I began to feel as if 'twas nearer supper-time than
dinner-time — when all at once two doors flew away
from each other right into the wall, and what did I see
but one of the grandest thanksgiving dinners you ever
laid your eyes on — and lights on the table, and silver
candlesticks and gold lamps over head — the window
shutters closed — I guess more than one of us stared at
first, but we soon found the way to our mouths — I made
Stephen tend out for me pretty sharp, and he got my
plate filled three or four times with soup, which beat all
I ever tasted. I shan't go through the whole dinner
again to you — but I am mistaken if it cost me much
for victuals this week, if I pay by the meal at Mr Doolittle's,
who comes pretty near up to a thanksgiving
every day. There was considerable talk about stock
and manufactories, and lier bilities, and rimidies, and a
great loss on stock. I thought this a good chance for
me to put in a word — for I calculated I knew as much
about raising stock and keeping over as any of 'em.
Says I to Mr —, there's one thing I've always observed
in my experience in stock — just as sure as you
try to keep over more stock than you have fodder to
carry them well into April, one half will die on your
hands, to a sartinty — and there's no remedy for it —

I've tried it out and out, and there's no law that can
make a ton of hay keep over ten cows, unless you have
more carrots and potatoes than you can throw a stick
at. This made some of the folks stare who did 'nt know
much about stock — and Steve give me a jog, as much
as to say, keep quiet. He thought I was getting into a
quog-mire, and soon after, giving me a wink, opened the
door and got me out of the room into the entry.

After we had got out of hearing, says I to Steve, how
are you getting on in the world — should you like to
come back to keep our school if I could get a vote for
you? — not by two chalks says Steve — I know which
side my bread is buttered better than all that — I get 12
dollars a month and found, and now and then some old
clothes, which is better than keeping school at 5 dollars
and find myself and work out my highway tax besides
— then turning up the cape of my new coat, says he, I
guess I've dusted that before now — most likely, says I,
but not in our district school. And this brings to mind
to tell you how I got a sight of your letter. They tell
me here that every body reads the Boston Daily Advertiser,
because there is no knowing but what they may
find out something to their advantage, so I thought I
would be as wise as the rest of them, and before I got
half through with it, what should I find mixed up among
the news but your letter that you put into that little
paper down in Portland, and I knew it was your writing
before I had read ten lines of it.

I hope I've answered it to your satisfaction.

From the Portland Courier, Jan. 1830.

Saturday forenoon the House having adjourned at an
early hour, we repaired to the Senate Chamber with
the view of standing watch awhile. We arrived just in
the height of a spirited skirmish, or what might almost
be called a battle; but the room was crowded, and the
doorway so impenetrably thronged, that we could gain
no entrance. There was scarcely room for a man to
wedge his nose in, unless it were a remarkably thin and
sharp one. From the subdued and regular hum within,
there was evidently a debate going on, but we being
somewhat low in stature, and a solid phalanx of six-footers
standing before us, we were left in the unpleasant
predicament of stretching up on tiptoe without
catching a single glimpse of the scene, and holding our
hands behind our ears without distinguishing a syllable
that was uttered.

The debate however soon subsided. We learnt afterwards
from inquiry, that it related to the subject of
forming a convention with the House for the purpose of
filling vacancies, before the Senate was organized; the
8 Huntonites voting in favor of the proposition, and
the 8 Smithites against it. A vote was then passed to
proceed to ballot for President again; and luckily for

us, the ballot boxes were out in the lobby, and out came
the messenger, cutting his way like a hero, (we like to
have said, hero of New Orleans, but happened to think
some would say we were taking sides,) we simply say
then, he cut his way through the dense ranks of spectators,
like a hero, and we crept in through the breach
he had made. The committee collected the votes for
President, and retired. In about ten minutes they returned,
and declared the result; 7 for Mr Dunlap, 7
for Mr Kingsbury, and 2 scattering.

They collected the votes again, and retired as before,
and returned as before, and declared the same result.
Again they proceeded in the same round, and came in
the third time, and stood ready to declare. The spectators
had become so accustomed to the report, that they
were whispering it off in advance of the Committee,
like a mischievous and sinful boy running ahead of some
good old country Deacon, who always uses the same
words in prayer. — Judge then, ye readers of the Courier,
what unspeakable astonishment prevailed, when
from the lips of the Chairman fell the startling words,
8 for Sanford Kingsbury, 6 for Robert P. Dunlap, and
2 scattering.

The effect was like that of a clap of thunder in the
dead of winter: some faces grew longer, and some
grew shorter; in some eyes there was a look of wildness;
in others a leering complacency, that seemed to
say, `your're dish'd at last; while some confounded
knowing glances from other quarters visibly replied,
`not as you know on.' And to be sure these last were
in the right; for round they went the fourth time, collected
the ballots, counted them, and came in again —
expectation was on tiptoe, and speculation was very
busy. Some thought this ballot would settle the question,
but others doubted. The Committee declared, and
the same old tune greeted the ears of the audience

— 7 for Mr Dunlap, 7 for Mr Kingsbury, and 2 scattering.

Another extract from the same.

A new Tune. — We have to pitch our pipe to a new
tune this morning. The second great battle of the
session was fought, or rather terminated yesterday afternoon.
After a regular engagement for eight days
in succession, during which time the regular armies of
Huntonites and Smithites in the Senate were drawn up
face to face, forenoon and afternoon, exchanging some
half a dozen shots every day, and then retiring by mutual
consent, and sleeping upon their arms, the conflict
was ended yesterday afternoon by a ruse de guerre on the
part of the Huntonites, which led them to victory without
bloodshed. The Senate met in the afternoon at three
o'clock, and proceeded to their usual round of duties.
The committee received the votes for President, and retired,
and came in again, and declared in the strains of
the old tune, 7 for Mr Dunlap, 7 for Mr Kingsbury, and
2 scattering. They proceeded again, and came in as
before. It was the fiftieth ballot since the commencement
of the session; and had a fifty pounder been unexpectedly
discharged in the room, it would hardly have
produced a stronger sensation, than the declaration of
the Committee, when they piped away in the following
new tune: whole number of votes 15. Necessary to a
choice 8: Joshua Hall has 8, Robert P. Dunlap 6,
James Steele 1, Blank 1. We shall not attempt to
describe the coloring of faces, the wildness of eyes, or
the biting of lips that ensued; for, not arriving in season
we did not see them. But we have no doubt from the
remarks of those who were present, that the occasion
would have furnished a scene for painting, full equal, if
not surpassing, that in the House on the choice of
Speaker. After the first consternation had subsided,

Mr Hall was declared duly elected President of the
Senate. Whereupon he rose in his place, and thanked
the gentlemen of the Board for the confidence they had
placed in him. He doubted his abilities to discharge
properly the duties assigned him; but under present
circumstances he would accept the trust. He accordingly
took the Chair.

[Note by the Editor. Mr Hall, or Elder Hall, as he was usually
called, was a democratic republican, but was chosen President exclusively
by the national republican votes, he throwing a blank
vote himself. He was a short, fleshy, good hearted old gentleman,
a minister of the Methodist denomination, and knew much more
about preaching than he did about politics. The democratic republicans
after their first consternation at his election had subsided,
fearing that he had actually gone over to the enemy, took measures
to have a private consultation with him immediately after adjournment.
This interview resulted in nailing the old gentleman to his
former political faith, and he stuck to the party like wax during the
remainder of the session. So the Senate was still divided, eight to
eight, except when the four new Senators elected by the national
republicans to fill the vacancies, attempted to act.]

LETTER V.

Dear Cousin Ephraim. — I spose you expected me
to write to you agin long afore now and tell you something
more about these legislaters, and I meant to, but I
could n't very well; for I'll tell you jest how twas. —
Some days, when the legislater would get into a plaguy
hobble, I would think to myself, well, soon as they get
out of this snarl, I'll write to cousin Ephraim and tell
him all about it; but before they got fairly out of that,
they'd be right into another; and if I waited till next

day to see how that ended, my keesers! before night
they'd all be higgledy piggle in a worse hobble than
they'd ever been in afore. So if I wait to tell you how
it comes out, I believe I shall have to wait till haying
time. Another thing I've been waiting for, was to tell
you who was Governor. — But, O dear, I cant find out
half so much about it now, here in this great city of
Portland, where all the Governors live, as I could six
months ago among the bear traps and log houses in our
town, way back in the woods. Last August, you know,
according to the papers we were going to have two
Governors right off, sure as rates; Mr Hunton and Mr
Smith. Well now its got to be the first of February,
and we haven't got one yet. And although the governor-makers
have had four or five under way for a month
past, some think it very doubtful whether they will get
one done so as to be fit to use this year. There's Mr
Hunton, and Mr Smith, and Mr Cutler, and Mr Goodenow,
and Mr Hall, have all been partly made into Governors;
but when in all creation any of 'em will be finished,
I guess it would puzzle a Philadelphy lawyer to
tell. I stated in my letter to uncle Joshua, that there
were two very clever parties in the legislater, the democratic
republikans and the national republikans; and
they are so, and very industrious, and try to make things
go on right; and I really believe, if the confounded
Jacksonites and Huntonites didn't bother 'em so, they 'd
make us a Governor, as quick as I could make an ax
handle. It is enough to do any body's heart good to see
how kind and obliging these democratic republikans and
national republikans are to each other, and how each
party tries to help the other along; and its enough to
make any body's blood boil to see the Jacksonites and
Huntonites, jest like the dog in the manger, because they
cant eat the hay themselves, snap at these two clever
parties the moment either of 'em sets out to take a
mouthful. I'll jest give you an instance of the kindness
that these two clever parties show to each other. — You
know the constitution says when we haven 't any Governor
the President of the Sinnet must be Governor,
and when we have 'nt any President of the Sinnet, the
Speaker of the House must be Governor. So when
Governor Lincoln died Mr Cutler was Governor for
awhile, because he was last year President of the Sinnet.
Mr Goodenow is a national republikan, and when
he was elected Speaker of the House, the democratic republikans
told him as there was no President of the
Sinnet elected yet, it belonged to him to be Governor,
and tried as hard as though he had belonged to their
own party, to encourage him to go right into the council
chamber and do the governor's business. But the
national republikans didn't dare to let him go, for he
was elected by only one majority, and they said if he
should leave the chair, it wouldn't be five minutes before
a Jacksonite would be whisked into it, and then the two
clever parties would all be up a tree. Well, jest so twas
in the Sinnet after Elder Hall was elected President,
only the bread was buttered on tother side. Elder Hall is
a democratic republikan, and there was a great deal tougher
scrabble to elect him, than there was to choose the
Speaker of the House. But as soon as he was elected,
the national republikans went to him very kindly, and
said, `Elder Hall, by the provisions of the constitution
you are now fairly Governor of the State till another
governor is qualified. Dont be bashful about it, but
please to walk right into the Council chamber, and do
the governor's business.' But the democratic republikans
said, that would never do, for if he should, the Sinnet
Board would be capsized in an instant and the Huntonites
would rule the roast. — So there was a pair of
Governors spoilt when they were more than half made,
jest by the mischief of the Jacksonites and Huntonites.
And the consequence is, that Mr Cutler has to keep doing
the Governor's business yet, whether he wants to or
not, and whether it is right for him to, or not. They
say the poor man is a good deal distressed about it, and
has sent to the great Judges of the Supreme Court to
know whether it's right for him to be Governor any
longer or not. If the Judges should say he mus 'nt be
Governor any longer, we shall be in a dreadful pickle.
Only think, no Governor, and no laws, but every body
do jest as they're a mind to. Well, if that should be
the case, I know one thing, that is, Bill Johnson will get
one good flogging for calling me a mean puppy and a
coward last summer; I've longed to give it to him ever
since; and if the Legislater don't make a governor this
winter, I shall come right home, and Bill must look out.
What a pity 'tis they should waste so much time trying
to make so many governors; for, if they should make
a dozen, we shouldn't want to use but one this year;
and it is thought if they had all clapt to and worked
upon one instead of working upon so many, they might
have had him done more than three weeks ago.

LETTER VI.

Dear Cousin Ephraim, — I have jest time to write
you a short postscript to a letter that I shall send you in
a day or two. We have had a dreadful time here to-day.
You know the wheels of government have been
stopt here for three or four weeks, and they all clapt
their shoulders under to-day, and give 'em a lift; and
they started so hard, that as true as you're alive, they
split both Legislaters right in tu. Some say they are
split so bad, they can't mend 'em again, but I hope they
can though; I shall tell you all about how 'twas done, in
a day or two. I've been expecting a letter from you, or
some of the folks, sometime. As I've got pretty short
of money, I wish you would send 'em in the Daily
Courier, so I shant have to pay the postage.

LETTER VII.

Cousin Ephraim, — I thought I would jest write you
another little postscript to my letter that I was going to
send you in a day or tu, and let you know that the legislaters
want split so bad as some folks tho't for. They've
got 'em both mended agin, so that they set 'em agoing
to day afore noon. But in the arternoon, that legislater
they call the Sinnet, got stuck, and in trying to make it
go, it rather seemed to crack a little; so they stopt short
till to-morrow. Its been jostled about so, and got so

weak an' rickety, some are afraid it will give out yet, or
split in tu agin.

LETTER VIII.

My Dear Son, — Its a good while since I writ a letter,
and I almost forget how; but you stay down there
to Portland so long, I kind of want to say something to
you. I have been churning this morning, and my hand
shakes so I cant hardly hold my pen still. And then I
am afraid the news I've got to tell, will be such a blow
to you, it makes me feel sort of narvous. Last Sunday
the schoolmaster and Jemima Parsons had their names
stuck up together in the meeting-house porch. — Now I
hope you wont take on, my dear Jack; for if I was you,
I should be glad to get rid of her so. I guess she's
rather slack, if the truth was known: for I went in there
one day, and she'd jest done washing the floor; and I
declare, it looked as grey as if she'd got the water out
of a mud puddle. And then she went to making pies
without washing her hands, or shifting her apron. They
made me stop to supper, but I never touched Jemime's
pies. There's Dolly Spaulding, I'm sure she's likelier
looking than Jemime Parsons, if 'twant for that habit
she's got of looking two ways at once. If she's making
a soup, one eye is always in the pot, if t'other does look
up chimney. She's as good a cook as ever was born,
and neat as wax-work. Sally Kean was to our house
spinning linen t'other day, because I burnt my hand

so bad trying out lard I couldn't hold the thread, and
she said Dolly had more sheets and pillow-cases than
you could count for one while, and she is always making
blankets and coverlids. She has sold footings enough
to buy her half a dozen silver spoons and a case of
knives. When I was young, such a gal would had a
husband long ago. The men didn't use to ask if a gal
looked one way, or two ways with her eyes, but whether
she was neat and smart; only if she had thin lips and
peaked nose, they were sometimes a little shy of her.

O Jack, I'm afraid these legislaters will be the ruination
of you! 'Twill make you jest like your uncle
Joshua. You know he had rather stand and dispute
about politiks any time, than work on his farm, and
talking will never build a stone wall or pay our taxes.

I dont care so much about the shushon as your poor
cousin Nabby does about the cotton cloth. But your
father has got the rumatise dreadfully this winter; and
its rather hard for him to have to cut all the wood and
make the fires this cold winter. I cant see what good
twil do for you to stay in Portland any longer, and I
think you had better come home and see a little to the
work on the farm.

LETTER IX.

Dear Cousin Ephraim. — I 've wrote you three postscripts
since I wrote you a letter, and the reason is, these

Legislaters have been carryin on so like all possest, and
I 've been in looking at 'em so much, I could n't get time
to write more than three lines at once, for fear I should be
out of the way, and should miss seeing some of the fun.
But thinkin you 'd be tired of waiting, I tried to get the
printer to send my letter yesterday; but he told me right
up and down he could n't. I told him he must, for I
ought to sent before now. But he said he could n't, and
would n't, and that was the upshot of the matter, for the
paper was chock full, and more tu, of the Governor's
message. Bless my stars, says I, and have we got a
Governor done enough so he can speak a message?
Yes, indeed we have, says he, thanks be to the two great
republikin parties, who have saved the State from the
anarkee of the Jacksonites and Huntonites; the Governor
is done, and is jest a going into the Legislater, and if
you 'll go right up there, you can see him. So I pushed
in among the crowd, and I got a pretty good squeezin
tu; but I got a good place, for I could elbow it as well
as any on 'em. And I had n't been there five minutes,
seemingly, before we had a Governor sure enough; and
a good stout, genteel looking sort of a man he was tu, as
you would see in a whole regiment, taking in captains
and all. Nobody disputed that he was finished pretty
workmanlike; and he ought to be, for they 'd been long
enough about it. So they concluded to swear him in, as
they call it, and he took a great oath to behave like a
Governor a whole year. Some say the wheels of government
will go along smooth and easy now, as a wheelbarrow
across a brick yard; but some shake their heads,
and say the wheels will be jolting over rocks and stumps
all winter yet; and I dont know but they will, for the
Governor had n't hardly turned his back upon 'em and
gone out, before they went right to disputing agin as
hard as ever. I was a good mind to run out and call the
Governor back to still 'em. But I could n't tell where
to look for him, so they got clear of a drubbing that time.
I know he 'd a gin it to 'em if he 'd been there; for what
do you think was the first thing they went to disputing
about? It was how many Governor's speeches they
should print this winter; jest as if the Governor could n't
tell that himself. Some wanted three hundred, and some
five hundred, and some seven or eight hundred. Finally
they concluded to print five hundred; and I should think
that was enough in all conscience, if they are all going
to be as long as that one they printed in the Courier
yesterday. In the next place, they took up that everlasting
dispute about Mr Roberts' having a seat; for if
you 'll believe me, they 've kept that poor man standing
there till this time.

I'll tell you how tis, Cousin Ephraim, we must contrive
some way or other to keep these Jacksonits and
Huntonites out of the Legislater another year, or we
shall be ruin'd; for they make pesky bad work, triging
the wheels of government. They've triged 'em so much
that they say it has cost the State about fifteen thousand
dollars a'ready, more than 'twould, if they had gone
along straight without stopping. So you may tell uncle
Joshua that besides that bushel of corn he lost in betting
about the Speaker, he'll have to shell out as much as two
bushels more to pay the cost of triging the wheels. Jingoe!
sometimes when I've seen the wheels chocked with
a little trig not bigger than a cat's head, and the whole
legislater trying with all their might two or three days,
and couldn't start it a hair, how I've longed to hitch on
my little speckled four-year-olds, and give 'em a pull;
if they wouldn't make the wheels fly over the trigs in a
jiffy, I wont guess agin. 'Tother day in the great convention,
when both Legislaters met together to chuse
some Counsellors, Mr Boutelle and Mr Smith of Nobleborough
tried to explain how 'twas the wheels of government
were trig'd so much. Mr Boutelle, as I have
told you a-fore, is a national republican, and Mr Smith
is a democratic republican. They differed a little in

their opinion. Mr Boutelle seemed to think the trigs
were all put under by one class of politicians, and from
what he said, I took it he meant the Jacksonites. He
said ever since the Legislater began, the moment they
started the wheels, that class of politicians would throw
under a chock and stop 'em; and which ever way they
turned, that class of politicians would meet 'em at every
corner and bring 'em up all standin. Mr Smith seemed
to think another class of politicians had the greatest hand
in it, and it was pretty clear that he meant the Huntonites.
He said when they first got here, that class of politicians
sot the wheels of government rolling the wrong way;
they put the big wheels forward, and the Legislater had
been going backwards ever since, jest like a lobster.
And the Huntonites not only trig'd the wheels, whenever
they begun to roll the right way; but as soon as the
`blessed Governor' was done they trig'd him tu; and
though he had been done four days, they wouldn't let
him come into the Legislater so that their eyes could be
blest with the sight of him. So from what I can find
out, the Jacksonites and Huntonites both, are a troublesome
contrary set, and there must be some way contrived
to keep 'em out of the Legislater in future.

It seems soon after you got my first letter, uncle
Joshua tackled up, and started off to Boston with a
load of turkeys and apple-sauce. I had a letter from
him t'other day, as long as all out doors, in the Boston
Advertiser. He says he got more for the turkeys than
he expected tu; but I think it's a plaguy pity he did'nt
bring 'em to Portland. I know he'd got more than he
could in Boston. Provision kind is getting up here
wonderfully, on account of these Legislaters being likely
to stay here all winter; and some think they'll be
here half the summer tu. And then there's sich a cloud
of what they call lobby members and office hunters, that
the butchers have got frightened, and gone to buying up
all the beef and pork they can get hold on far and near,

for they are afraid a famine will be upon us next.
Howsomever, uncle Joshua did well to carry his `puckery
apple-sauce' to Boston. He could 'nt get a cent
for't here; for every body's puckery and sour enough
here now.

Give my love to father and mother and cousin Nabby.
I shall answer their letters as soon as I can.

LETTER X.

Postcript to uncle Joshua.

THIS WITH CARE AND SPEED.

Dear Uncle, — If you have'nt paid over that are
bushel of corn yet, that you lost when you bet Mr Ruggles
would be Speaker, hold on to it for your life, till
you hear from me agin, for I aint so clear but you may
save it yet. They've gone to rippin up their duins here,
and there's no knowing but they may go clear back to
the beginning and have another tug about Speaker. At
any rate, if your bushel of corn is'nt gone out of your
crib yet, I advise you by all means to keep it there.

Tell 'squire N. the question is'nt settled yet; and you
wont shell out a single kernel till it is fairly nailed and
clinched, so it can't be ript up agin. I'll tell you what
tis, uncle Josh, the Supreme Court beats the Jacksonites
and Huntonites all hollow for trigging the wheels.
You know after they had such a tussle for about a week

to chose Elder Hall President of the Sinnet, and after
he come in at last all hollow, for they said he had a
majority of eight out of sixteen, they went on then two
or three weeks nicely, duin business tie and tie, hard
as they could. Then up steps the Judges of the Supreme
Court and tells Mr Hall he was governor, and
ought to go into the Council Chamber. They seemed
to be a little bit thunder struck at first. But they soon
come to agin, and Elder Hall got out of the chair and
Mr Kingsbury got into it, and they jogged along another
week, duin business as hard as ever. They said
all the chairs round the table ought to be filled, so they
changed works with the House and made four more
Sinneters. So having four good fresh hands come in,
they took hold in good earnest and turned off more
business in two days, than they had done in a month before.

Then up steps the Supreme Court agin and tells 'em
their cake is all dough; for they hadn't been duin constitutional.
This was yesterday; and it made a dreadful
touse. They went right to work rippin up and tarrin
away what they'd been duin; and before nine o'clock
in the evening they turned out the four new Sinneters,
out of their chairs and appointed a committee to begin
to make four more. They took hold so hash about it, I
spose some the rest of the Sinneters begun to be afraid
they should be ript up tu; so they clear'd out, I guess
near about half on 'em, and have n't been seen nor heard
of to day. Some of 'em that had more courage went
in and tried to du business; but there wasn't enough of
'em to start an inch. They sent a man all round town
in the forenoon and afternoon to tell 'em to come in and
go to work, but he could n't find hide nor hair of one of
'em. Elder Hall said he guessed they must be somewhere
in a convention.

Some say they'll rip up the new Councillors next, and
then the Governor, cause the new Sinneters helpt make

'em all. But there's one comfort left for us, let the cat
jump which way 'twill; if Mr Hunton is'nt a constitutional
Governor, Elder Hall is; the Judges have nailed
that fast. So I think Bill Johnson will get off with a
whole skin, for I shant dare to flog him this year. If
they go clear back to the Speaker, and decide it in favor
of your bushel of corn, I shall let you know as soon as
possible.

LETTER XI.

Dear Cousin Ephraim, — Here I am yet, and have
n't much else to du, so I might as well keep writin to
you; for I spose uncle Joshua 's in a peck of trouble

about his bushel of corn. I'm pesky fraid he'll lose it
yet; for they dont seem to rip up worth a cent since the
first night they begun. The truth was they took hold
rather tu hash that night; and rippin up them are four
new Sinneters so quick, they scart away four or five more
old ones, so they did n't dare to come in again for tu days.
And that threw 'em all into the suds, head and ears. It
was worse than trigging the wheels, for it broke the Sinnet
wheel right in tu, and left it so flat, that all Job's
oxen never could start it, if they hadn't got it mended
again. They tried, and tried, to keep duin something,
but they couldn't du the leastest thing. One time they
tried to du something with a little bit of a message that
was sent to 'em on a piece of paper from the House.
The President took it in his hand, and held it up, and
asked 'em what was best to du with it. Some of 'em
motioned that they'd lay it on the table; but come to
consider on it, they found they couldn't according to
the constitution, without there was more of 'em to help.
They said they couldn't lay it on the table, nor du nothin
at all with it. I was afraid the poor old gentleman
would have to stand there and hold it till they got the
wheel mended agin. But I believe he finally let it drop
on the table; and I spose there was nothin in the constitution
against that.

They got the wheel mended Monday about eleven er
clock, so they could start along a little. But them are
four new Sinneters that they ript up Thursday night,
come right back agin Monday, and sot down to the
great round table; and stood tu it through thick and
thin, that they want ript up, and no sich thing. — Well,
this kicked up a kind of a bobbery among 'em, so they
thought they'd try to journ. The President counted
'em, and said they were journed and might go out. One
of the new Sinneters said the President didn't count
right, and they want journed a bit; and they must set
still and have an overhauling about it.

So they set down agin, all but four or five that put on
their hats and great coats and stood backside of the
room. The room was chock full of folks looking on,
and the President told 'em the Sinnet was journed and
they might as well go out, but they did seem to keer tu,
and they put their hats on and began to laugh like fun.
The President sot still in his cheer, for I spose he
thought if he left it, some of them are roguish fellers
would be gettin into it. The man that keeps order, told
the folks they must take their hats off when they were
in the Sinnet; but they said they wouldn't, cause the
Sinnet was ajourned. Then the man went and asked
the President if the Sinnet was all ajourned, and the
President said 'twas, and there was no doubt about it.
And the folks felt so tickled to think they could wear
their hats when the Sinneters were setting round the
great table, that they kind of whistled a little bit all
over the room.

Finally, after settin about half an hour, another man
got up and motioned to ajourn, and the President got
up and put it to vote agin. He told 'em if they wanted
to ajourn, they must say ah, and they all said ah this
time, and cleared out in five minutes.

But about this rippin up business; instead of rippin
up the councillors, as some thought they would, both
legislaters met together to-day, and called in four of
the councillors, and nailed 'em down harder with an
oath.

They've sot the committees to work like fun now,
and its thought they'll turn off business hand over hand;
for you know its almost March, and then the great
Supreme Court meets here. And they say they have a
grand jury that picks up all disorderly and mischievous
folks, and carries 'em in to court, and the court puts
'em in jail. These legislaters have been cuttin up such
rigs here all winter, that they begin to look pretty shy
when any thing is said about the first of March, and I

dont believe the grand jury 'll be able to find a single
mother's son of 'em when the court gets here.

LETTER XII.
In which Mr Downing hits upon a new idea for making
money out of the office-seekers that were swarming round
the new Governor.

Dear Cousin. — As soon as you get this, I want you
to load up the old lumber-box with them are long slick
bean-poles, that I got out last summer. I guess I shant
make much by my ax handles, for I can't sell 'em yet;
I han't sold but tu since I've been here; and the sea's
been froze over so that uncle Ned hant got in from
Quoddy yet, and I hant had any chance to send my ax
handles to Boston. But if I loose on the ax handles, I
shall make it up on the bean poles if you only get 'em
here in season. Do make haste as fast as you can, and
you shall share half the profits.

It ant to stick beans with nuther; and I guess you'll
kind o' laff, when I tell you what tis for. You know when
we went to the court there was a man sot up in a box,
that they called a Sheriff, and held a long white pole in
his hand. Well I heard somebody say tother day that
there was more than a hundred folks here that wanted
to get a Sheriff's pole; and I happened to think that
them are bean poles would make cute ones. But you
must get 'em here afore the Governor makes his appintments,

or it 'll be gone goose with us, about it, for we
couldn't sell more than half a dozen arter that.

LETTER XIII.

Dear Jack. — Here I am, about half way to Portland,
with one shu of the old lumber box broke down, and
tother one putty rickety. Its about half the way bare
ground, and the old hoss begins to be ruther wheezy. But
you know I don't give up for trifles, when there's a chance
to make a spec. Soon as I got your letter bout the bean
poles, I made business fly. Mother put me up a box of
beef and dough-nuts, and I fed old grey, and tackled up,
and all loaded and ready to start in tu hours; and if I
live I shall get the bean poles there at some rate or other
fore long; but I'm fraid I may be late. If you know
the Governor, I wish you'd just ask him to keep his appointments
back a little while; he shant loose nothin by
it, if the poles sell well. I shall have to go the rest of
the way on wheels, and I want you to see if you cant hire
one of the government wheels and come and meet me,
for the plagy fellers here wont trust me with their wheels
till I get back. Besides if I could get one of the wheels
of government, I'm thinking I could get along a good
deal faster; for I met a man jest now from Portland
that said they've got them are wheels going now like a
buz. He said there was no wheels in the country that
could go half so fast; and he thinks they work a good
deal better for being split up and mended so much.

Grandfather said they would want as many cockades as
Sheriff polls; and so he put in his old continental one,
that he had in the revolution.

P. S. I hope you'll get the government wheels to
come arter the poles, for I want some that are putty
easy trig'd, cause the hills are ruther slippery.

LETTER XIV.

You sent word to me in your letter t'other day, that
you had got to bare ground, and broke down one shu of
the lumber box, and wanted me to get the wheels of
Government and come up after the poles. I tried to get
'em, but they would 'nt let 'em go; and they said 'twould
'nt be any use if I did; for I could 'nt get more than
ten rods before the wheels would be trig'd. They were
expecting of 'em to be trig'd every day, they said; for
the Judges had sent a monstrous great trig to the Governor,
and told him if they went to start the wheels forward
any, he must clap it under; for they must 'nt go
forward a bit more, and must roll the wheels back a
good ways, till they found the right road. Well, sure
enough, Tuesday, when they was goin along a little

easy, some on 'em threw the trig right under, and it
brought 'em up with a dreadful jolt.

And then, my stars, if the Sinneters didn't go at it tie
and tie, like smoke. The national republicans pulled
one way, and the democratic republicans 'tother, with
all their might, jest as you and I used to set down and
brace our feet against each other, and take hold of a
stick to see which could pull tother up. They pulled
and grinned all day, but nary side couldn't pull up tother.
The national republicans said they wouldn't stop
for that little trig, nor no notion of it; and they pulled
the wheels forward as hard as they could. The democratic
republicans braced their feet tother way, and said
the wheels shouldn't move another inch forward; they
had got on to a wrong road, and the Judges had put that
trig there to keep 'em all from goin to destruction; and
they tried all day as hard as they could to roll the wheels
back to find the right road. They pulled like my little
tu year olds all day, but I couldn't see as they started
the wheels backwards or forwards a single hair. This
morning they hitched on and took another jest sich a
pull. The national republicans said they knew the road
as well as the Judges did, and they were goin right and
wouldn't touch to go back; the road was a good plain
smooth road, and there wasn't a mite of danger in goin
on. The democratic republicans said they could hear
some pretty heavy thundering along that road, and they'd
not go another step that way; but they stood tu it they
want afraid of the thunder. The national republicans
said they'd heard thunder before now, and seen dreadful
black clouds all over the sky, and they'd seen a fair
afternoon and a bright rainbow after all that. So they
pulled and disputed, and disputed and pulled, till most
noon, and then they concluded to stop and breath upon
it till to-morrow, when I spose they will spit on their
hands to make 'em stick and begin as hard as ever.

I hope you'll make haste and get the poles along; if

you cant get any wheels up there, you better tie up a
couple of bundles of 'em and swing 'em acrost the old
horse, saddle-bags fashion. You'll get well paid for it,
if you get 'em here in season.

LETTER XV.

Dear Uncle Joshua — I guess by this time, its so
long since I writ home, you almost begin to think Jack
is sick or dead, or gone down to Quoddy long with uncle
Nat, or somewhere else. But you needn't think any
sich thing, for here I am sticking to Portland like wax,
and I guess I shant pull up stakes agin this one while.
The more I stay to Portland the better I like it. Its a
nation fine place; there's things enough here for any
body to see all their life time. I guess I shall tell you
something about 'em before summer's out. These Legislaters
haven't done nothin scarcely worth telling about
this most a fortnight. I've been in most every day jest
to take a squint at 'em. There was n't hardly a bit of
a quarrel to be heard of from one day's end to another.
They were all as good natured and loving as a
family of brothers, that had been living out all summer,
and had jest got home together at thanksgiving time.
They kept to work as busy as bees upon pieces of paper
that they called Bills. Sometimes they voted to read
'em once, sometimes twice, and sometimes three times.
At last the sun begun to shine so warm, that it made 'em

think of planting time, and at it they went, passing Bills
by the gross, [probably a mistake for to be engrossed, —
editor,] till they settled 'em away like a heap of corn at
a husking, before a barnful of boys and gals. And
they've got so near the bottom of the heap, they say
they shall brush out the floors in a day or two more, and
start off home. I spose they wont mind it much if they
do brush out some of the ears without husking; they've
had their frolic and their husking supper, and I guess
that's the most they come for. It seems to me, uncle
Joshua, it costs our farmers a great deal more to husk
out their law-corn every winter than it need tu. They
let tu many noisy talking fellers come to the husking.
I've always minded, when I went to a husking, that these
noisy kind of chaps seem to care a good deal more
about what they can get to eat and drink, than they du
about the corn; and them are that don't make much
fuss, are apt to husk the most and make the cleanest
work.

O dear, uncle, there's a hot time ahead. I almost
dread to think of it. I'm afraid there is going to be a
worse scrabble next summer to see who shall go to the
great State husking than there was last. The Huntonites
and Smithites are determined to have each of 'em a
governor agin next year. They've sot up their candidates
on both sides; and who in all the world should
you guess they are? The Huntonites have sot up Mr
Hunton, and the Smithites have sot up Mr Smith. You
understand what it means, I spose, to set up a candidate.
It means the same that it does at a shooting
match to set up a goose or a turkey to be fired at. The
rule of the game is that the Smithites are to fire at Mr
Hunton, and the Huntonites are to fire at Mr Smith.
They think it will take a pretty hard battle to get them
both in. But both parties say they've got the constitution
on their side, so I think likely they'll both beat.

They've been piling up a monstrous heap of ammunition

this winter, enough to keep 'em firing all summer;
and I guess it wont be long before you'll see the smoke
rising all over the State, wherever there's a newspaper.
I think these newspapers are dreadful smoky things;
they are enough to blind any body's eyes any time. I
mean all except the Daily Courier and Family Reader,
that I send my letters in; I never see much smoke in
them. But take the rest of the papers, that talk about
politics, and patriotism, and republicanism, and federalism,
and Jacksonism, and Hartford Conventionism, and
let any body read in one of 'em half an hour, and his
eyes will be so full of smoke he can't see better than an
owl in the sunshine; he would n't be able to tell the
difference between a corn-stalk and the biggest oak tree
in our pasture.

You know, uncle, these Legislaters have had some
dreadful quarrels this winter about a book they call the
constitution: and had to get the Judges of the great
Court to read it to 'em. They made such a fuss about it
I thought it must be a mighty great book, as big agin
as grandfather's great bible. But one day I see one of
the Sinneters have one, and my stars, it was n't so big
as my old spelling book. Thinks I to myself, if ax
handles will by one, I'll have one and see if I cant read
it myself. So I went into a store where they had a nation
sight of books, and asked 'em for a constitution.
They showed me some nice little ones, that they asked
a quarter of a dollar apiece for. I was out of money,
so I told the man I'd give him four good white oak ax
handles, well finished, for one: and he said, being 'twas
me, I might have it. So now I've got a constitution of
my own, and if I find I can read it, I shall let you know
something about what's in it before a great while.

LETTER XVI.
which Mr Downing tells how the Legislature cleared
out, and how Elder Hall went home.

Cousin Ephraim, — I kind of want to say a few more
words to you about the Legislaters. You know they
came together here in the first of the winter in a kind of
a stew and they had storms and tempests among 'em all
the time they staid here, and finally they went off Friday
in a sort of whirlwind or hurricane, I dont know
which. Some folks say they hope it will blow 'em so
far they wont get back again. — But I guess there aint
much danger of that; for you know squire Nokes always
used to say the bad penny will return. They were
dreadful kind of snappish the last day they were here;
they couldn't hardly touch a single thing without quarrelling
about it. — They quarrelled about paying some
of the folks they hired to work for 'em; and they quarrelled
ever so long about paying them are four Sinneters
that were chosen in the convention; and at last they got
to quarrelling like cats and dogs to see if they should
thank the President and Speaker for all the work they've
done this winter. But they had to thank 'em at last.
And then Mr Goodnow, the Speaker in that Legislater
they call the House, got up and talked to 'em so pleasant,
and kind, and scripture-like, it made 'em feel a little
bad; some of 'em couldn't hardly help shedding tears.
I tho't them are, that had been quarrelling so, must feel
a little sheepish.

That are Elder Hall, that was President of the Sinnet,
seemed to be the most poplar man in the whole
bunch of both Legislaters. There wasn't one of the rest

of 'em that could work it so as to make both parties like
'em. But some how or other, he did. The national republicans
liked him so well, that they all voted for him
for President; and the democratic republicans liked
him so well, that they all voted to thank him when they
went away. And I dont so much wonder at it, for he
seemed to me to be about the cleverest, good natured old
gentleman that ever I see.

Its true the old gentleman had rather hard work to
keep the wheels of government going in the Sinnet this
winter; and they would get trig'd every little while in
spite of all he could do. I spose this made him rather
shy of all kinds of wheels; for he wouldn't go home in a
stage, nor a waggon, nor a shay. These kind of carts
all have wheels, and I spose he thought they might get
trig'd and he wouldn't hardly get home all summer. So
he concluded to go by water; and he went aboard a
vessel Saturday night, and sailed for down east; and as
true as you are alive, before the next day noon the
wheels of the vessel got trig'd; tho' they said the vessel
didn't go on wheels, but some how or other it got trig'd,
and back they came next day into Portland again, and
there they had to stay till Monday, because the wind
didn't blow according to the constitution. But President
Hall you know isn't the man to leave his post in
time of difficulty; so he never adjourned, nor came
ashore, but stuck to the rack till Monday, when a good
constitutional breeze sprung up, and they sot sail again.
And I wish him a pleasant passage home, and peace and
happiness after he gets there; for as I said afore, I dont
think there's a cleverer man any where down east.

I was going to tell you something about a town meeting
that I've been tu to day; but as uncle Joshua is
sleckman and survayor I spose he would like to hear
about it more than you, so I guess I shall write to him.

LETTER XVII. In which Mr Downing hints to Uncle Joshua that he has a
prospect of being nominated for Governor.

Uncle Joshua, — I spose you remember that are
story about the two dogs, that uncle Joe Downing
used to tell; how they got to fighting, and snapped and
bit, till they eat each other up, all but jest the tip ends of
their tails. Now I never could exactly see through that
story, enough to know how it was done, till lately. I
almost thought it was was a kind of tough yarn, that
had been stretched a good deal. But fact, uncle, I begin
to think it 's true, every word on't; for there 's
something going on here as much like it as two peas in
a pod. The Portland Argus and the Portland Advertiser,
have fell afowl of each other and gone to biting
one another's noses off. And if they keep on as they
've began, I guess before summer is out they 'll not only
eat each other all up, tails and all, but I believe they are
going to devour them are tu outrageous wicked parties,
that plagued the legislature so all winter; I mean the
Jacksonites and the Huntonites. They 've only been
at it a week or two, and they 've made quite a hole into
'em aready. The Advertiser eats the Jacksonites, and
the Argus eats the Huntonites, and they are thinning of
'em off pretty fast. This will be a great comfort to the
State, as it will give the two republican parties a chance
to do something another winter. The Advertiser has
eat up the Jacksonites in some places away down east,
such as Eastport and so on, and away up tother way in
Limerick, and Waterborough, and Fryeburg.

And the Argus has eaten up the Huntonites in Newfield,
and Sanford, and Berwick, and Vinalhaven, and

so on. All these towns on both sides now have good fair
republican majorities. I spose about by the middle of next
August they 'll get 'em all killed off so there wont be
the skin of a Jacksonite or Huntonite left to be sent
to the next legislature.

I hope, uncle Joshua, you will be more careful about
meddling with politics; for so sure as you get hitched
on to the Jackson party or the Hunton party, these barking,
deep mouthed creatures will fix their teeth upon
you, and you 'll be munched down before you know it.

There 's one thing, uncle, that seems to wear pretty
hard upon my mind, and plagues me a good deal; I
have n't slept but little this tu three nights about it. I
wish you would n't say any thing about it up there
amongst our folks, for if it should all prove a fudge,
they 'd be laughing at me. But I tell it to you, because
I want your advice, as you 've always read the papers,
and know considerable about political matters; tho' to
be honest I dont spose any one knows much more about
politics by reading the papers, after all.

But what I was going to tell you, is — now, uncle,
dont twist your tobacco chaw over to tother corner of
your mouth and leer over your spectacles, and say Jack
's a fool — what I was going to tell you, is this: I see
by a paper printed down to Brunswick, that they talk of
nominating me for Governor to run down Smith and
Hunton. Think of that, uncle; your poor neefu Jack,
that last summer was hoeing about among the potatoes,
and chopping wood, and making stone walls, like enough
before another summer comes about, will be Governor
of the State. I shall have a better chance to flog Bill
Johnson then, than I should last winter, if we had n't
had no Governor nor no laws; for I spose a Governor
has a right to flog any body he 's a mind to.

But that 's nither here nor there, uncle; I want your
serious advice. If they nominate me, had I better accept?
Sometimes I 'm half afraid I should n't understand

very well how to du the business; for I never had a
chance to see any governor business done, only what I
see Elder Hall du in the Sinnet chamber last winter.
Poor man, that makes me think what a time he had
going home. I wrote to you before that he went by water,
and that the vessel got trig'd by an unconstitutional
wind the first day and had to come back again. And he
must have found a good many hard trigs after that, for
he did n't get home til 2d day of April.

Where he was, in that dreadful storm the 26th of
March I have n't heard. But I should think after standing
the racket he did last winter in the legislater, and
then this ere storm at sea, he never need to fear any
thing on land or water again in this world.

I wish you 'd write me what you think about my being
a candidate for Governor, and whether you think I
could get along with the business. Considerable part of
the business I should n't be a mite afraid but what I
could du; that is, the turning out and putting in. I
know every crook and turn of that business; for I
dont believe there 's a boy in our county, though I say it
myself, that 's turned out and tied up more cattle than I
have. And they say a Governor has a good deal of this
sort of work to du.

No more at present from your loving neefu,

LETTER XVIII.
In which Uncle Joshua discovers remarkable skill in the
science of politics, and advises Mr Downing by all means
to stand as a candidate for governor.

Dear Jack — I never felt nicer in my life than I did
when I got your last letter. I did think it was a kind of
foolish notion in you to stay down there to Portland all
winter, and then hire out there this summer. I thought
you better be at home to work on the farm; for your
father, poor old gentleman, is hauled up with the rumatize
so, he wont be able to du hardly a week's work this
summer. But I begin to believe Jack knows which side
his bread is buttered yet. For if you can only run
pretty well as a candidate for Governor, even if you
shouldn't be elected, it will be worth more to you than
the best farm in this County. It will be the means of
getting you into some good office before long, and then
you can step up, ye see, from one office to another till
you get to be Governor. But if the thing is managed
right, I am in hopes you'll get in this time, and the
Downings will begin to look up, and be somebody. Its
a very good start, your being nominated in that are paper
down to Brunswick. But there's a good deal to be
done yet, to carry it. I'm older than you are, and have
seen more of this kind of business done than you, and of
course ought to know more about it. Besides, you know
I've always been reading the papers. Well, in the first
place, you must fix upon the name of your party; I'm
thinking you better call it the democratic national republican
party, and then, ye see, you'll haul in some from
both of the two clever parties in the State. As for the
Jacksonites and Huntonites, I wouldn't try to get any

support from them; for after such rigs as they cut up in
the Legislater last winter, the people back here in the
country dont like 'em very well. I think it would hurt
you to have any thing to do with 'em. Then you must
get a few of your friends together in Portland, no matter
if there aint no more than half a dozen, and pass some
patriotic resolutions, and then publish the duins of the
meeting in the paper, headed the voice of the People:
and then go on to say, at a numerous and respectable
meeting of democratic national republicans held in Portland
at such a time, &c.

Resolved unanimously, that we have perfect confidence
in the exalted talents, the unspotted integrity, and well
known patriotism of Mr Jack Downing, [or perhaps it
should be the Hon. Jack Downing] and that we cheerfully
recommend him to the people of this State as a
candidate for the office of Governor.

Resolved, that his well known attachment to the interests,
the principles, and usages of the democratic national
republican party, eminently entitles him to their
confidence and support.

Resolved, as the sense of this meeting, that nothing
short of the election of that firm patriot, the Hon. Jack
Downing, can preserve the State from total, absolute,
and irretrievable destruction.

Resolved, that a County Convention be called to ratify
the doings of this meeting, and that the democratic national
republicans in other counties be requested to call
conventions for the same purpose.

Resolved, that the proceedings of this meeting be published
in all the democratic national republican newspapers
in the State.

We will then get up such a meeting in this town, and
pass some more highly patriotic resolutions and send
'em down, and you must have 'em put into the paper
headed A VOICE FROM THE COUNTRY. And then we must
get a few together somewhere, and call it a county convention,

and keep rolling the snow ball over, till we wind
up the whole State in it. Then, ye see, about the first
of August we must begin to pin it down pretty snug in
the papers. Kind of touch it up some how like this:
extract of a letter from a gentleman of the first respectability
in York County to the central committee in
Portland. `The democratic national republicans here
are wide awake; York County is going for Mr Downing,
all hollow: we shall give him in this county at least a
thousand majority over both Smith and Hunton.' Another
from Penobscot: `three quarters of the votes in
this county will be given to Mr Downing: the friends of
Smith and Hunton have given up the question, so satisfied
are they that there is no chance for them.'

Another from Kennebec: `from information received
from all parts of the State, upon which perfect reliance
may be placed, we are enabled to state for the information
of our democratic national republican friends, that
there is not the least shadow of doubt of the election of
Mr Downing. It is now rendered certain beyond the
possibility of mistake, that he will receive from five to ten
thousand majority over both the other candidates.'

If this don't carry it, you'll have to hang up your fiddle
till another year. And after the election is over, if you
shouldn't happen to get hardly any votes at all, you
must turn about with perfect indifference, and say the
democratic national republicans didn't try — made no
effort at all — but will undoubtedly carry the election
next year all hollow.

P. S. If you get in, I shall expect my son Ephraim
to have the office of Sheriff in this County, for he's got
some of the bean poles left yet, that he sot out to carry
to market last winter. The other offices we'll distribute
at our leisure.

LETTER XIX.
In which Mr Downing gives his opinion about newspapers.

Dear Uncle Joshua — In my last letter to Ephraim,
I said I should write to you pretty soon something
about the Portland Town Meeting. As you've been
sleckman and survare a good many years, I spose you'd
like to hear about sich kind of things. And I spose I
might tell you about a good many other things tu, that
you don't have much chance to know about away up
there; and aunt Sally says I ought tu; for she says I
have a great many advantages living here in Portland,
that folks can't have up in the country, and if I should
write to some of you once or twice a week, she thinks it
would be time well spent. So I shall spend part of my evenings,
after I get my day's work done, in writing letters.
I don't know but I forgot to tell you that I had hired
out here this summer. I get eight dollars a month
and board, and have the evenings to myself. I go to
school three evenings in a week, and aunt Sally says she
can begin to see that I spell better already. The printer
of the Courier and the Family Reader, that sends my
letters for me, is very kind; he does'nt ask any thing for
sending my letters, and he gives me as many newspapers
as I can get time to read. So I spend one evening in a
week reading newspapers, and set up pretty late that
evening tu. And besides I get a chance to read awhile
most every morning before the rest of the folks are up;
for these Portland folks are none of your starters in the
morning. I've known my father many a time, before the
rhumatiz took the poor old gentleman, to mow down an
acre of stout grass in the morning, and get done by that
time one half the Portland folks leave off snoring. Sometimes
I think I better be up in the country tu, mowing

or hoeing potatoes, or something else, instead of reading
newspapers. Its true they are bewitching kind of things,
and I like well enough to read 'em, but jest between you
and me, they are the worst things to bother a feller's
head about, that you ever see. In one of my letters, you
know, I said newspapers were dreadful smoky things, and
any body couldn't read in 'em half an hour without
having their eyes so full of smoke they couldn't tell a
pig-sty from a meeting house.

But I'm thinking after all they are more like rum than
smoke. You know rum will sometimes set quite peaceable
folks together by the ears, and make them quarrel
like mad dogs — so do the newspapers. Rum makes
folks act very silly — so do the newspapers. Rum
makes folks see double — so do the newspapers. Sometimes
rum gets folks so they can't see at all — so do the
newspapers. Rum, if they take tu much of it, makes
folks sick to the stomach — so do the newspapers. Rum
makes folks go rather crooked, reeling from one side of
the road to t'other — and the newspapers make one half
the politicians cross their path as often as any drunkard
you ever see. It was the newspapers, uncle Joshua, that
made you bet about the Speaker last summer, and lose
your bushel of corn. Remember that, uncle, and dont
believe any thing you see in the papers this summer, unless
you see it in the Daily Courier or Family Reader;
and dont you believe them neither if ever you see them
smoke like the rest of the papers.

As I was a saying about my evenings, I spend one
evening a week reading that little book called the constitution,
that kept our legislaters quarrelling all winter.
You know I bought one for four ax-handles; I find I
can read it considerable easy, most all of it without spelling,
and when I get through I shall tell you something
about it.

A queer thought, uncle, has just popt into my head:
I guess I should make a capital member of Congress —

for this letter is just like one of the Congress speeches.
It begun about the town meeting, but not a bit of a word
is there in it from beginning to end about the town meeting,
after you get over the text. But I find by reading
the papers that when a Congress man speaks all day
without touching his subject, he makes a motion to adjourn,
and goes at it again the next day. So I believe I
must say good night to you now, and try it again the
next leisure evening.

LETTER XX.

Uncle Joshua, — Did you ever see tu dogs get to
quarrelling about one bone? How they will snap and
snarl about it, especially if they are hungry. Sometimes
one will get it into his mouth and hook it away
like smoke, and t'other arter him full chisel. And when
he overtakes him they'll have another scratch, and drop
the bone, and then t'other one'll get it, and off he goes
like a shot. And sometimes they both get hold together,
one at one end and one at t'other, and then sich a tugging
and growlin you never see. Well now, when they
act so, they act jest like the Portland Argus and Portland
Advertiser; two great big growlers, they are all the
time quarrelling about their Republikin, to see which
shall have it. If the Advertiser says any thing about his
republikin, the Argus snaps at it, and says 'tisn't your

republikin, its mine. You no business to be a republikin,
you are a Federalist.

And when the Argus says any thing about his republikin,
the Advertiser flies up, and says, you no business to
be a republikin, you're a Jacksonite. And so they have
it up hill and down, bark, bark, and tug, tug, and which
'll get the republikin at last I cant tell. Sometimes they
get so mad, seems as though they'll tear each other all
to pieces, and there's forty thousand folks setting of 'em
on and hollering stooboy. Now there wasn't any need
of all this quarrel, for each of 'em had a republikin last
winter; the Argus had a democratic one, and the Advertiser
had a national one, and they got 'em mixed by
leaving off the chrissen names. And I guess it would
puzzle a Philadelphy lawyer to tell 'em apart without
their names, for their republikins are as much alike as
tu peas in a pod.

The Advertiser never should say republikin alone, but
national republikin, and the Argus never should say
republikin alone, but democratic republican. And then
it seems as though each one might know his own bone,
and knaw it without quarrelling.

I thought, uncle, I'd jest tell you a little about this ere
business, because I know you always want to find out
all the kinks about politiks.

Grand Caucus at Downingville.

From the Portland Courier of July 21, 1830.

THE LONG AGONY OVER,
And the Nomination out.

We delay this paper something beyond the usual hour
of publication in order to lay before our readers the important
intelligence received yesterday from Downingville.
— This we have been able to accomplish, tho' not
without extraordinary exertions and extra help. But the
crisis is important, we had almost said appalling, and
demands of every patriotic citizen of Maine the highest
sacrifices in his power to make. The important proceedings
of the grand convention at Downingville reached
here, by express, yesterday about a quarter before 3 o'
clock P. M. having travelled the whole distance, notwithstanding
the extreme high temperature of the weather, at
the rate of thirteen and a half miles an hour. And but for
an unfortunate occurrence, it would undoubtedly have
reached here at least three hours earlier. Capt. Jehu
Downing, who with his characteristic magnanimity and
patriotism volunteered to bring the express the whole
way, having taken a very high spirited steed for the first
ten miles, was unfortunately thrown to the ground in attempting
to leap a barrier which lay across the road.
Two of his ribs were broken by the fall, and his right
arm so badly fractured that it is feared amputation must
be resorted to, besides several other severe contusions on
various parts of the body. We are happy to hear however
that Doctor Zachariah Downing, who on hearing
the melancholy intelligence very promptly repaired to
the spot to offer his professional services, pronounces the
Captain out of danger, and also that the Captain bears
his misfortune with his accustomed fortitude, expressly

declaring that the only regret he feels on the occasion is
the delay of the express. Here is patriotism, a devotedness
to the welfare of the country, and to genuine democratic
national republican principles, worthy of the days
of the revolution.

Lieut. Timothy Downing forwarded the express the
remainder of the way with the utmost despatch, having
run down three horses, one of which died on the road. —
But we keep our readers too long from the gratifying
intelligence received.

Grand Democratic National Republican Convention.

At a large and respectable meeting of the democratic
national republicans of Downingville and the neighboring
parts of the state, convened this day at the centre
school house, the meeting was called to order by the
venerable and silver-haired patriarch, old Mr Zebedee
Downing, who had not been out to a political meeting
before for the last twenty-five years. The venerable old
gentleman stated in a few feeling remarks the object of
the meeting; that he had not meddled with politics since
the days of Jefferson; but that now in view of the awful
calamities which threatened to involve our country
in total ruin, he felt it his duty the little remaining time
he might be spared from the grave, to lift up his voice
and his example before his children, grand children, and
great grand children whom he saw gathered around him,
and encourage them to save the country for which he
had fought and bled in his younger years. After the
enthusiastic applause elicited by these remarks, the old
gentleman called for the nomination of a chairman,
and Joshua Downing, Esquire was unanimously called
to the chair, and Mr Ephraim Downing appointed Secretary.

On motion of Mr Jacob Downing, voted, that a committee

of five be appointed to draft resolutions to lay
before this meeting. Whereupon Jotham Downing,
Ichabod Downing, Zenas Downing, Levi Downing, and
Isaiah Downing, were appointed said committee, and
after retiring about five minutes, they returned and reported
the following preamble and resolutions.

Whereas an awful crisis has arrived in the political
affairs of our country, our public men all having turned
traitors, and resolved to ruin the country, and make us
and our children all slaves forever; and whereas our
ship of state and our ship of the United States, are both
driven with tremendous violence before the fury of the
political tempest, and are just upon the point of being
dashed upon the breakers of political destruction; and
whereas, nothing short of the most prompt and vigorous
exertions of the patriotic democratic national republicans
of this state and of the United States can avert the
impending danger,

And whereas, the Jacksonites, and Adamsites, and
Huntonites, and Smithites, have so multiplied in the
land, and brought things to such a pass, that our liberties
are unquestionably about to receive their doom forever:

Therefore Resolved, that it is the highest and most
sacred duty of every patriotic Democratic National Republican
in the State, to arouse himself and buckle on
his political armour, and make one last, one mighty effort,
to save the state and the country, and place the
constitution once more upon a safe and firm foundation.

Resolved, that the awful crisis of affairs in this State
requires a firm devoted patriot, a high-minded and gifted
statesman, and a uniform unwavering Democratic National
Republican, for chief magistrate.

Resolved, that in this awful crisis, we believe the eyes
of all true patriots are turned upon

THE HON. JACK DOWNING,

late of Downingville, but since last winter a resident in
Portland, the capital of the State.

Resolved, that we have the fullest confidence in the
talents, integrity, moral worth, tried patriotism, and unwavering
and unchangeable sterling Democratic National
Republicanism of the Hon. Jack Downing, and that his
election to the office of Governor in September next,
and nothing else, can save the State from total, unutterable,
and irretrievable ruin.

Resolved therefore, That we recommend him to the
electors of this State as a candidate for said office, and
that we will use all fair and honourable means, and, if
necessary, will not stick at some a little dis-honourable,
to secure his election.

Resolved, That we disapprove of personal crimination
and re-crimination in political contests, and therefore
will only say of our opponents, that we think them no
better than they should be, and that they unquestionably
mean to destroy the land we live in.

Resolved, That it be recommended to all the patriotic
democratic national republicans throughout the State, to
be up and doing; to call county meetings, town meetings,
school district meetings, and village and bar-room
meetings, and proceed to organize the party as fast as
possible, by appointing standing committees, and central
committees, and corresponding committees, and bearers
and distributers of handbills; and in short by doing every
thing that the good of the cause and the salvation of
the country requires.

Resolved, conditionally, That in case General Jackson
should be likely to be re-elected, we highly and cordially
approve of his administration, and believe him to
be second to none but Washington; but in case he should
stand no chance of re-election, we resolve him to be the
ignorant tool of a corrupt faction, plotting to destroy the
liberties of the country.

Resolved, That the thanks of this convention be presented

to Miss Abigail Downing, for the use of her school
room this afternoon, she having with a generous patriotism
dismissed her school for that purpose.

Resolved, That the proceedings of this convention,
signed by the Chairman and Secretary, be published in
the Portland Daily Courier, and the Family Reader, the
official organs of the Hon. Jack Downing's correspondence,
and any other genuine Democratic National Republican
papers in the State.

We are assured by Lieutenant Timothy Downing, with
whom we had a short interview, that the best spirit prevailed
in the convention; not a dissenting voice was
heard, and all the resolutions passed unanimously. We
add an extract or two from private letters.

From Ephraim Downing, to the Hon. Jack Downing.

“Well Jack, if you don't acknowledge we've done the
thing up in style, you're no gentleman and not fit for
Governor. I wish you to be very particular to keep the
Sheriff's office for me.—Father says cousin Jeremiah has
thrown out some hints that he shall have the Sheriff's
office. But butter my ristbands, if you do give it to him
you'll go out of office again next year, that's positive.
Jere's a clear factionist, you may rely upon that. No,
no, stick to your old friends, and they'll stick to you.
I'm going to start to-morrow morning on an electioneering
cruise. I shall drum 'em up about right. You only
keep a stiff upper lip, and you'll come in all hollow.”

From Joshua Downing, Esq. to the Hon. Jack Downing.

“Dear Jack, things look well here; with proper exertions
I think you may rely upon success. I am in great
haste, and write this jest to tell you to be sure and not
promise a single office to any mortal living, till I see you.

These things must be managed very prudently, and you
will stand in need of the counsel of your old uncle. I
think I could do as much good to the State by being appointed
Land Agent, as any way; but I'll determine upon
that when I see you.

N. B. Make no promises.

LETTER XXI.

Dear Uncle Joshua.—The great battle, that 's been
coming on all summer, is over, and the smoke jest begins
to blow away a little, so that we can look round and see
who 's killed, and who 's wounded so bad they cant get
over it, and who 's driven off the field, and who stands
their ground and cries victory. I 've been looking out for
you here ever since yesterday noon, for I thought if it
looked up there, as though I stood any chance to be
elected governor, you would be right down here as quick
as possible, driving night and day, to see about them are
offices. For your know you promised to help me fix 'em,
and told me I must not give away one of 'em till you
come. And you may depend on it I should a held on to
'em to the bat's end, till you did come, let who would
come arter 'em. But as you have n't got here yet, I 'm
afraid I did n't run very well up there, so I thought I
would write to you and see what 's the matter. If I did
n't run any better up there than I did down here to
Portland, I would n't give a cent to be a candidate any

longer this year; for I might run till I was gray, and not
be elected. However, worst come to worst, I know what
I can do. If Judge Smith's got in, and they say about
here he 's gone all hollow, I 'll see if I cant work it so
as to get an office under him. — You see I kept pretty
still along for sometime before election, and I guess I can
manage it so as to make him think I lectioneered for
him, and then I 'll follow him up, tooth and nail, till he
gives me an office. I 'll try for sheriff first, and if I cant
get that, I 'll try for Clark of the Courts, for they say
that 's a pretty good office. And if he says he has given
them all away, I 'll try for Land Agent, for you know
I 've been about the woods a good deal; and if he says
that belongs to Dr Rose, I 'll try to be a Post Master
somewhere, or a door keeper to the Legislater, or some
sich like. And if he says these are all gone tu, I 'll tell
him if he 'll give me a fair price, I 'll water his horse and
brush his boots. And if he wont let me do that, I say
burn his boots, I 'll run against him again next year.

I spose you would like to know something about how
the election turned out down here. Soon as the bell
rung, I sot out to go to the town hall, but before I got
half way there, I met chaises, and waggons, and another
kind of chaises, that went on four wheels and was shut
up close as a hen-coop, all driving 'tother way, jehu like.
What is the matter? says I; who 's beat? But along
they went snapping their whips without answering me a
word, and by their being in sich a terrible hurry I thought
sure enough they had got beat, and the enemy was arter
'em. So I steered round into another street to get out
of the way for fear they should get a brush at me; but
there was as many more of 'em driving like split down
that street tu. Where upon arth are they all going, says
I, to a feller that overtook me upon the full run. Going?
says he; why to bring 'em to the polls, you goose head:
and away he went by me in a whisk. When he said
poles, I thought that cousin Ephraim must have come in

with a load, as they 'd be likely to fetch a good price
about this time, and I concluded all that running and
driving was to see who should have the first grab at 'em.
I called to him to tell me where Ephraim was, but he
was out of hearing.

So I marched along till I got to the town hall, and
they were flocking in thick as hops. When I got within
two or three rods of the house a man come along
and handed me a vote for Mr Smith; I stept on the side
walk and another man handed me a vote for Mr Hunton;
and I went along towards the door and another
man handed me a vote for Mr Smith, and then another
handed me one for Mr Hunton. And then I went to go
up stairs into the hall, and there was a row of about
twenty men, and all of 'em gave me a vote, about one
half for Smith and one half for Hunton. And before I
got through the hall to the place where they were firing
off their votes, they gave me about twenty more; so if
I had been a mind to vote for Smith or Hunton I could
have gin 'em a noble lift; but that wasn't what I was
arter. I was looking out for the interests of my constituents
at Downingville. And when I come to see
among so many votes, not one of 'em had my name on
it, I began to feel a little kind of streaked.

I went out again, and I see the chaises and waggons
kept coming and going, and I found out that bringing of
'em to the polls meant bringing of 'em to vote. And I
asked a feller that stood there, who them are men, that
they kept bringing, voted for. Why, says he, they vote
for whichever goes arter 'em, you goose-head you. Ah,
says I, is that the way they work it? And where do
they bring 'em from? O, says he, down round the
wharves, and the outskirts of the town and any where
that they can catch 'em. Well, well, thinks I to myself,
I've got a new rinkle, I see how this business is
done now. So off I steered and hired a horse and waggon,
and went to hunting up folks to carry to town meeting.

And I guess before night I carried nearly fifty
there, of one sort and another; and I was sure to whisper
to every one of 'em jest as they got out of the waggon,
and tell 'em my name was Jack Downing. They
all looked very good natured when I told 'em my name,
and I thought to be sure they would all vote for me.
But how was I thunderstruck when the vote was declared,
and there was 1008 for Mr Smith, 909 for Mr Hunton,
4 for Mr Ladd, and one or two for somebody else,
and not one for me. Now was 'nt that too bad, uncle?
Them are faithless politicians that I carried up to the
town-meeting! if I only knew who they were, they should
pay for the horse and waggon, or we'd have a breeze
about it.

Write soon, for I am anxious to know how they turned
out in Downingville.

LETTER XXII.

Dear Jack,—I have just returned, puffing and blowing,
from town-meeting, and have only time to tell you
that we gave you a confounded good run here. If your
friends in the rest of the State have done their duty, you
are elected by an overwhelming majority. The vote in
this town for governor stood as follows:—

     

Hon. Jack Downing,	87
Hon. Samuel E. Smith,	00
Hon. Jonathan G. Hunton,	00

Capt. Jehu Downing is elected representative; it was
thought to be due to him by the party for his magnanimous
exertions in carrying the express to Portland at
the time you were nominated by our grand convention.

LETTER XXIII.

Dear Uncle Joshua: — I am tired of hard work,
and I mean to have an office some how or other yet.
Its true I and all our family got rather dished in the
governor business; if I'd only got in, they should every
soul of 'em had an office, down to the forty-ninth cousin.
But its no use to cry for spilt milk. I've got another
plan in my head; I find the United States offices are
the things to make money in, and if I can get hold of
a good fat one, you may appoint a day of thanksgiving
up there in Downingville, and throw by your work
every one of you as long as you live.

I want you to set me up for member of Congress up
there, and get me elected as soon as you can, for if I
can get on to Washington I believe I can work it so as
to get an office some how or other. — I want you to be
particular to put me up as a Tariff man. I was agoing
to take sides against the tariff so as to please Gineral
Jackson and all his party, for they deal out the offices
now a days, and you know they've been mad enough
with the tariff to eat it up. But the Portland Advertiser
has been blowin away lately and praising up the
tariff and telling what a fine thing tis, and fact, it has

brought the old gineral round. His great long message
to Congress has just got along here, and the old gentleman
says the tariff wants a little mending, but on the
whole it's a cute good thing, and we must n't give it up.

LETTER XXIV.

Now I do beg of you, my dear Nabby, never to joke
me, as you did in your last letter, about the Portland
beaux. Why, if I thought any thing about sich matters,
I would a great deal sooner marry Sam Josslyn.
He is educated enough to know the age of his cows
and oxen, to know how to cultivate a field of corn, or a
patch of potatoes; can read his bible, and say the ten
commandments, and what is better, Sam can keep them
all. Besides these accomplishments, you know Sam
has a snug little farm of his own, free from mortgages
or any other embarrassments, is sober, active, and industrious,
and I doubt not, has cast many a sheep's eye
at my good cousin Nabby. These are good substantial
prospects, which it is hardly worth while to overlook, and
which it would be rather difficult to find among the Portland
beaux. I have often heard uncle Joshua, who is now
the most wealthy man in Downingville, tell how he commenced

business with a capital of only one dollar, and
how some young wags of the village came in and made
a good deal of sport by purchasing up all his stock.
But he didn't care for their jokes, he added the profits
of his sale to his capital, and commenced business
again; and by good management, economy in his dress
and frugality in his living, he soon put himself beyond
the reach of want or waggery. I have always admired
the perseverance and economy of my good uncle, and
have contrasted it with the management of our Portland
merchants. They often commence business with even
less capital than uncle Joshua; but then their stock is
worth perhaps five or six thousand dollars. They cut a
great dash for a few months, and then, if they are unmarried,
begin to ogle the girls in order to choose a
wife. And what do you think are the requisites for a
wife here, Cousin Nabby? You say she must be capable,
neat, industrious and amiable. No indeed, my dear,
such things are scarcely ever thought of here. She
must have a smattering of French, must be able to drum
the music out of a piano, to sing and dance, or all in
one word, she must be genteel. Well, such girls are
plenty enough down here, and a wife is soon obtained.
They hire a large house, furnish it elegantly, obtain
servants, go to parties, balls and the theatre, make jams,
and morning calls, and then fail. The wife goes home
again to her mother's, with the addition of an innocent
babe, and the young broken merchant is off to the south
to look after business again. Now do you not think this
a refined and intellectual state of society? You will
not wonder that I am attached to the unsophisticated
manners and simple habits of our own village. Do not
think from what I have said, there are no people of intellect
here, for I assure you there is a choice brotherhood
whom we sometimes meet at social parties and
lectures, but they are so accustomed to the weak and
frivolous of our sex, that their conversation is almost
wholly confined to each other. Have you made any
additions to our little library since I left home? If you
are not too bashful, tell Sam to read these long winter
evenings, instead of spending his time in making axe
handles and goad sticks. Cousin Jack has got his head
so full of politics, that I doubt whether he sells one for
him, this winter. Tell Uncle Joshua if he has any
more apple sauce to sell this winter, to send it down in
the old lumber box by Ned, and if he must needs send
his letters to Jack through the Courier, be sure and not
to say one word about the apple sauce, for you dont
know how queer it looks to see governors and goadsticks,
politics and pan-dowdy, ballot-boxes and bean-poles,
all jumbled up together.

LETTER XXV.

Dear Uncle Joshua, — Cousin Jehu and I got down
here the Monday before the Legislater met, and sich a
dragging time of it, as we had through the mud, I guess
you never see. More than three quarters of the way, it
was as bad as ploughing mash-meadow in April. The
waggon wheels sometimes went in almost up to the hub,
and we had to get out and lift and pry as hard as the
Legislater used to, last winter, to get the wheels of government
agoing. Your poor old hoss is nearly done tu.
But we shall doctor him up as well as we can, so as to
get him home again. Next day we went round to see
how the market was. Your apple-sass fetched a good

price. We sold it to a Jacksonite tavern-keeper. He
said he wanted a little something to sour his dinners a
little mite; for his boarders were all Jacksonites, and
they'd got the upperhand so now days, that they complained
their victuals was all too sweet. Your boiled
cider went off at a real round price tu. Why, how
much did you boil that cider down? It was so strong,
that a gill of it would knock a man down any time. We
sold it to a Huntonite tavern-keeper. He said his boarders
were all Huntonites, and he didn't know what the matter
was, but they seemed to be rather down in the mouth
lately, and he wanted a little something to start their
ideas and keep their sperits up. So he gin us jest what
we asked. Ax handles dont fetch nothing hardly. The
bean poles turned middling well, though they dont go off
so glib as they did last year. I find folks are a little
more shy about buying of 'em for sheriff poles than
they used to be, for they say when a man gets one,
there's no knowing as it will be any use to him more
than one year. Howsomever, we sold a few of 'em
right out, and made a pretty good spec in 'em. And we
bargained away a number more upon condition that they
should want 'em. Cousin Nabby's footings fetched the
same they did last year, that is ninepence a pair, and
we got her a nice piece of cotton cloth for 'em. Tell
aunt Keziah we got for her bundle of urbs a pound of
good shushon and a quarter of snuff. We shall send
'em all up in the waggon by Jim.

But Jim will have to wait here till cousin Jehu gets
back again, for he took the other hoss Wednesday and
started off like a stream of lightning for Downingville.
Now I spose you will be a little struck up at that, till I
tell you the reason of it, but the fact was he came away
from home and forgot to bring his primy facy case.
And we met one of the members Tuesday night and
got to speaking about it, and he said it would be
of no use to think of getting a seat in the House without

one, for they were going to be very particular, and
nobody would be allowed to take a seat in the House
unless he could show a good fair primy facy case.
Well then, said cousin Jehu, the jig is up with me, for
as true as eggs is bacon I left mine at home. But,
finally, after considerin upon it, we concluded 'twas best
for him, as he was a pretty smart rider, to start off and
get it, and come back again as quick as possible. But
he might have been saved all that trouble, if he had only
known how it would turn out. For when the members
got together Wednesday morning, they appointed a
committee to go round among 'em and take the primy
facy cases and count 'em, and see if there was enough
to make a corum. I dont know as I can tell exactly
what sort of a thing a corum is, but they said the constitution
wouldn't let 'em do any thing till they had a
corum, and it took a hundred and thirty primy facy
cases to make one.

One of the Huntonites made a motion that the committee
should examine the primy facy cases, and not
count any but what was good.—But the Jacksonites
said no, they should count 'em all first, and they'd take
their seats and go to work, and have another committee
afterwards to examine 'em. They disputed about it a
little while pretty sharp; but at last the republicans begun
to get a notion that it was only jest meant to trig
the wheels of government, and it stuck in their crops so
they couldn't bear it any longer, and they up foot and
gave the trig such a kick, I guess the Huntonites nor
Jacksonites neither wont find it again this winter.

So they let them all take their seats with such kind of
primy facy things as they had got, and went to choosing
officers.

There aint but a few Huntonites and Jacksonites in
the Legislater this year, and its lucky there isn't, for
there is no telling how much mischief they did last winter.
There is so few of them are two rascally parties
here now, that are trying to ruin the country, that 'tis

thought the republicans will be able to keep the wheels
agoing and get along without much trouble.

I have a good deal more to write to you, but haven't
time in this letter. Elder Hall is here, but he is not
President this year. He thinks rotation in office is all
the beauty of republicanism, so he gave up the chair this
year to Mr Dunlap.

Cousin Sally has got most through her second quarter's
schooling here, and when she gets through, I dont
know but I should advise you to take her home, for she
grows so vain and accomplished, as they call it, that I
dont think it 'll do her much good. Jest look at her
last letter that she sent up in the Courier, and see how
lady-like she talks. And then in order to be mighty
nice, she must needs sign it Sarah; as if the good old
name of Sally, that her mother gave her, wasn't good
enough for her.

Tell cousin Jehu to make haste back again, for the
Legislater's rattling along so with their business that
he'll hardly get a finger in the pie if he isn't here soon.
They've made a Governor, and some Councillors, and a
Secretary of State, and a Treasurer, and a State Printer,
besides doing a good many other things, and it hasn't
took half so long as it did last winter to say poor Mr
Roberts shouldn't have a seat. This in haste.

LETTER XXVI.

I should like to know, cousin Sarah, if you have heard
down there to Portland any thing about a temperance society.
If you have just write and tell me what it means.

You know father wants to know the meaning of every
thing, and so I walked tu miles over to the school-master's
to borry Mr Walker's dictionary to see what it meant;
and after all I want no wiser than I was afore, for there
was n't one word in it about temperance societies. Tother
day father sot in the shop door, wondering if Jack would
go to the Congress or not, when a proper great fat red-faced
man came in, and opened a long paper with more
names on it than I could read in a week, — and says he,
Mr Downing, I want you to sine your name to this paper.
Father took hold of the paper with one hand, and run
tother up under his hat, jest as he always does when he
tries to think; and, my friend, says he, I dont know as I
quite understand what this ere means. Why, says he,
by putting your name down, you promise not to drink
any rum yourself, nor to let any of your family. My conscience,
father understood it then, I can tell you, he
hopped rite out of his chair, and I guess the temperance
man was gone in no time. Well, after father had time
to consider a little he began to feel afraid he had n't
used the man exactly right; for, said he, may be all
places aint like Downingville. I remember reading in
the newspaper of some places where they drink rum as
we do water, and get so drunk that they tumble about on
the ground. And may be the man did n't know but
what we drank it here. And if he was trying to do good
he was n't so much to blame after all. Indeed, Sam,
said he, for Mr Josslyn came in while he was talking,
I 've been told there are shop keepers who retale rum by
the half jill, to men who drink it at their counters, and
some can actually bare that enormous quantity two and
three times in a day. I never see Sam's eyes so
big, Sarah; he look'd as if he wanted to say, that 's a
whacker, Mr Downing; and so thinks I, I will write to
Sarah, and she 'll tell me all about it.

LETTER XXVII.

My Dear Cousin Nabby, — It's a great while since
I writ to you, for you know when I write politics I always
have to send it to uncle Joshua, cause he loves
dearly to dig into sich things, and when I write about
bringing bean poles and apple-sass to market, I have to
send to cousin Ephraim, cause he's the boy to do that
are; but when I write about the ladies and sich like I
send it right to you; and I've got a master mess to tell
you this time, as ever you heard in all your life. I dont
know where bouts to begin, and when I get begun I'm
afraid I never shall know where to leave off; for if I

should try to tell you all about it, I dont know but you
would get to be as old as aunt Keziah before I should
get through. Howsomever, I'll try to give you a little
smattering of it, and I might as well begin before I go
any further, for I spose by this time you're all of a didder
to know what I mean. Well then, to let you into
the mistery, we've had the ladies fair here, and of all
the scrapes that ever I see this beats the cap-shief; Independant
was nothing tu it hardly. I'll tell you how
they come to have it. There's a woman here that takes
care of a whole flock of little gals, what hant got nobody
else to take care of 'em; they call her the Orphan
Asylum. And they said she hadn't got money enough
to buy bread and milk for 'em all, and clothes to wear
in this cold weather. And so the ladies, for you know
Nabby, they are always kind hearted sort of creatures,
thought they'd put their heads together and see if they
couldn't get some money for her. So they agreed to
have what they call a fair — that means a place where
every sort of nicknack that was ever made or thought
of, and some that never was thought of before, are brought
together to sell. Well, you know the women can do
most any thing if they set out. So, as soon as they set
this afloat, it went through the town like a buzz. All
the ladies and gals went to work like smoke, making
up things for the fair.

And they were in sich a taking about it, they couldn't
do any thing else for two months. — When the men
went home to their dinners they'd fret and scold 'cause
'twant ready. Now dont scold, the woman would say,
for the gals have been so busy making them are little
frocks and pin-cushions and needle-books for the fair,
that they never thought of its being one o'clock so soon.
And when the old bachelors went up to bed, down they'd
come again sputtering along, and want to know what's
the reason their bed want made. Then the chamber
gal would jump as if she'd gone out of her skin; well

there now, says she, as true as I'm alive, I've been so
busy to day making that are dicky for the fair, that I
never thought a word about the beds. Well, last Tuesday
they got 'em all ready, and carried 'em into the
great town hall, that's as big agin as uncle Joshua's forty
foot barn, and paraded 'em out to sell. And they put
it into the papers that they should be ready by six
o'clock in the evening for customers. But the funniest
of it all was, they charged every body ninepence a piece
jest for coming in to buy their things whether they bought
any thing or not. And if they went out a minute or
two and come in again, they had to pay ninepence more.
That's a plaguy good way to keep shop, they make money
so fast by it. — Some of the young fellers kept going
out and coming in again every few minutes, I spose
jest to show the gals that come with 'em that they'd a
good pocket full of ninepences and want stingy of 'em.

But I'm getting before my story. All day Tuesday
the chaps were flying round getting their 5 dollar bills
changed to go to the fair. As for me, I hadn't only a one
dollar bill, and I did n't dare to show that to nobody for
fear of the debety sheriffs, for they begin to look out
pretty sharp after we disappointed office seekers now-a-days,
and if they catch us with a dollar they nab it
quick enough I tell ye. Howsomever, I borried a nine-pence
of a feller that used to work long with me last
summer, and I told him I didn't doubt but what I could
pay him next day, for most all the lobby members of
the Legislater would be to the fair, and bein the sheriffs
aint appointed yet, I should stand a good chance to
bargain away a few of cousin Ephraim's bean poles;
and I'm to have half for selling. So as soon as the
clock struck six, I took my ninepence, and up I trudged
and went right into the fair, jest like any body else;
and my stars! sich another sight I dont think there ever
was afore. I thought I'd seen most all the world since
I left Downingville, but bless me, come to look around

here I found I hadn't hardly begun to see it yet. I never
see any thing that lookt so bright before, unless it was
when uncle Zekiel's barn burnt down. There was a
master sight of candles and lamps stuck up round the
windows and all over the great hall, and along in the
middle of it there hung down two great bunches of green
spruce tops as big as a hogset, and they were stuck full
of lamps all over 'em. I believe they called 'em tallow
chandlers, or some sich name. The folks kept coming
and pouring in as thick as bees, and at last the hall got
chock brim full, and then if there wasn't a crowdin and
squeezin time I'll never guess agin. They had to look
out for toes, I can tell 'em; I was glad I left my corns
to home, for if I hadn't I should had 'em smashed all to
pieces forty times.

You might as well try to crawl through a woodpile as
to think of getting round any where in the hall, only jest
where the crowd happened to carry you. A chap that
stood pretty near me said to an old white headed gentleman,
have you been over there to the old witch tother
side of the hall to have your fortune told; O no, says
he, I have n't been jam'd that way yet. As I was tussling
along to try to get a peep at some of the tables, I got
stuck fast between three stout women, and to move
another inch I couldn't if I was to be whipped. And
some how or other my head got jam'd under one of
their bonnets, but 'twas none of my duins though, and
says she, sir, I'll thank you to take your head out of
my face. Yes mam, says I, I will as soon as that lady's
head behind mine gets a little loose, so I can pull mine
back. But I had tough work to breath before I could
get command of my own head agin, I tell ye. Well,
at last I tussled along or was jam'd along some how or
other pretty near some of the tables, so that I could kind
o' peep over on to 'em sometimes. And sich a mess of
pretty things and queer things as they had there to sell
I never set eyes on before. And then, O sich a pretty

row of gals along behind the tables for shop-keepers, all
dressed up so fine, and laughing out of both of their
eyes so like little witches, and holding up their pretty
things in their little white hands, and asking every body
to buy 'em. O Nabby, I never felt the want of money
so much before in all my life. Soon as I looked at 'em
I wished I had a thousand dollars to spend. And if
I'd only been elected Governor, as I ought to have been,
and should have been if our party had only been a little
better organized, I'd a made the money fly well, you
may depend upon't; for I think governors at sich times
ought to be generous and set good examples. Now I
think on't tell uncle Joshua I've seen the real genuine
republican party. It was at the fair; there was old folks
and young folks, and men and women, and boys and
gals, and all sorts and sizes of folks mixed up together
higgledy piggledy, and every one said and did jest what
they'd a mind to. If this wasn't the republican party I
dont know what is.

It looked funny to see every body buying every thing
that was offered to 'em, and paying jest what they asked
for it. And the queerest of it was, if you bought a thing
that came to a ninepence, and handed 'em a quarter of a
dollar to pay for it, they would chuck the quarter into
the money draw, and you might whistle for your change;
they would n't give you back a cent. Only think; if the
stupid shop-keepers would only learn that are fashion,
and charge all the gals that come arter patterns ninepence
every time they come into their stores, and when any
body buys any thing of 'em never give any change back,
how fast they might get rich. There was young fellers
buying pin-balls, and old bachelors buying doll-babies,
and some of 'em nigger babies tu, and every body buying
what they did n't want, more than a toad wants two
tails.

At one end of the hall there was a great table covered
all over with cakes and candy and apples and plums, and

all kinds of luscious things, all brought in to help along
the Orphan Asylum. A man would send in some apples
that he sold in his store at two for a cent, and then go
and get his children and post off to the hall, and pay
ninepence apiece to go in, and then buy the apples and
give two cents apiece for 'em.

One gal come along nibbling off a piece of cake about
as big as two fingers, and another one says to her, what
did you give for that? A shilling, says she; I thought I
would do something to help along the Asylum. By and
by she come along again cramming down a handful of
plums and a great apple. Says 'tother one, says she,
what did you give for them? Ninepence, says she; I
should n't think of buying any thing at all, if it want for
helping along the Asylum. By and by I saw her
crounching a stick of candy, such as commonly sells for
a cent. What did you give for that, says t'other one.
Three cents, says she. Dear soul, thinks I, how very
kind you are to help along the Asylum.

By and by I got joggled along up towards another table,
and who should I see there, but a witch! Some
called her the witch of Endor, that we read about in the
Bible, and some said it was one of the Salem witches.
She looked bad enough to be any one of 'em. She was
a little peaked nosed dried up thing; about two feet high,
and she stood there upon the table to tell folks their fortunes.
She had a little staff in her hand that pointed
down on to a little wheel that had every body's fortune
written down on it. They 'd give the wheel a whirl and
when it stopped, the fortune they wanted to tell any body
would be right where the staff pointed. The old witch
could n't, or else would n't read herself, so she had a
pretty little roguish looking miss stand beside her to tell
it off. They called her the priestess, but my stars, she
did n't look no more like a minister's wife than you do,
Nabby. They asked fourpence happeny apiece for telling
fortunes. — Up stepped a smart looking little miss and

gave the wheel a whirl and asked what her fortune was.
Why, said the little witchee with a rogueish look `at the
annual return of this fair you will be introduced by your
husband.' La me, said the miss, blushing, I 'm sure you
cant make nothing by telling fortunes at fourpence
apiece; so she threw down half a dollar, and off she
went. Then there came up a sober, thin, clever looking
sort of a man, and gave a whirl, and the little priestess
look'd him up in the face with a curl of the lip, and says
she, `a wolf in sheep's clothing — that suits your case
exactly, sir.' And he turned away muttering, `how
upon earth come that little witch of a creature to know
me?'

Then up stepped another man, that they said was one
of the Legislaters, and says he, how much do you ask
for telling fortunes? Only fourpence happeny says she.
Well, says he, I believe I 'll have mine told, so he give a
whirl, and after he heard his fortune, he handed a dollar
to take out the fourpence happeny, and the rogueish
priestess slipped it into the draw and turned right about,
and went to waiting upon somebody else. And the poor
man waited and waited for his change till he got tired —
and then he drawed back out of sight.

But there, Nabby, I must stop before I tell you half
ont, or I shall get my letter so long the printer wont send
it; for he threatens to charge me postage if I send sich
long ones. But they had jest sich a scrape all the next
day and next evening; and the next evening after that,
they sold all the trinkets they had left at vandue. I dont
know how much money they got in the whole, but you
may depend upon it 't was a real swad; and I guess the
Orphan Asylum woman might give the little gals gingerbread
to eat this two years if she 's a mind to, and
let 'em have new warm gowns and good shoes and stockings
into the bargain. So here I must stop, and when I
go to another fair you shall hear from me again.

LETTER XXVIII.
In which Mr Downing tells how the Jacksonites in the Legislature
had a dreadful tussle to pour a “healing act”
down the throats of the Huntonites.

[Note by the Editor. The bitterness of feeling occasioned by the
struggle for the ascendency between the two parties in 1830, still
rankled in the breasts of the members of the Legislature in 1831.
The Huntonites had acquired the ascendency the preceding session,
but now the Jacksonites were in power, and they contended that
the acts of the Huntonites in 1830 were unconstitutional and void.
They therefore set about preparing a “healing act” to declare all
the doings of the preceding Legislature valid in the lump. When
this Bill was brought forward, it produced a storm in the Legislature,
almost unparalleled. The Huntonites considered it altogether
a useless provoking piece of political trickery. They contended
that if the acts of the former Legislature were in fact unconstitutional,
no law passed by this Legislature could make them constitutional;
and considering it a wanton attempt to heap insult and
odium upon them, they fought against it almost while life and breath
remained. A fierce debate on the passage of this Bill was carried
on for several days. But the Jacksonites had the power in their
own hands, and the Bill was finally passed. The scene is somewhat
minutely described in the two following letters.]

Dear Uncle Joshua. — If you got my postcript to
this letter that I sent you yesterday, I spose you wont
sleep nor eat much till you hear something more about
it. So I thought I'd try to send you a little bit of a letter
to-day. O dear, uncle, there 's terrible times here
again, and I'm half afraid it's agoing to be worse than
it was last winter. The Legislater 's been all in the
wind this two or three days, pulling and hauling and
fighting like smoke. The wheels of government are all
stopt; I cant say as they are trigged, as they used to be
last winter, but they are fairly stopped, because nobody
dont pull 'em along; for when the members are all pulling
each other's caps, how can they pull the wheels of
government? They seemed to get along very well ever
since they 've been here till now, and I thought they most

all belonged to them are two clever parties that tried so
hard to save the State last winter; I mean the democratic
republicans and the national republicans. But
some how or other this week a quarrelsome gang of
Jacksonites and Huntonites has got into the Legislater
and kicked up such a bobbery, it seems as though they 'd
tare the State all to pieces. My heart 's been up in my
mouth a dozen times for fear the State would go to ruin
before I could get out of it; and I 've scratched round
and picked up what few bean-poles and ax-handles I
had left, and got all ready to set sail to Boston, for I'me
determined to be off before the State goes to rack. And
I advise you and all our friends at Downingville to pack
up as soon as you get this letter, and be all ready as
soon as you hear a cracking down this way to fly for
your lives away back into New-Hampshire or Vermont.
The trouble as near as I could understand it begun in
this way. The Jacksonites said the Huntonites worked
so hard last winter in trying to trig the wheels of government,
and tare the constitution to pieces, that they made
themselves all sick, dreadful sick, and had n't got well
yet; and it was time to do something to try to cure 'em;
for their sickness was so catching that all the State
would be taken down with it in a little while, if they want
cured.

But the Huntonites said they want sick a bit; they
never was better in their lives; and moreover, it was
false that they had tried to trig the wheels of government
last winter, or tear a single leaf out of the constitution;
if any thing of that kind was done, they said
the Jacksonites did it, and as for taking doctor's stuff
they'd no notion of it. But the Jacksonites said 'twas
no use, the Huntonites were all sick, and they must take
some doctor stuff, and if they wouldn't take it willingly
they must be made to take it. So they went to work and
fixed a dose that they called a healing act, that they said
would cure all the Huntonites and any body else that had

catched the sickness of 'em. The Huntonites declared
'twas no use for 'em to fix it, for they never would take
it as long as they lived, that's what they wouldn't; they
were as well as any body, and they'd fight it out till next
June before they'd take it. Howsomever, the Jacksonites
got their dose ready, and yesterday they carried it
into the House of Representatives and told the Huntonites
they must take it, and 'twould do 'em good. As soon
as the Huntonites smelt of it, they turned up their noses,
and said no, before they'd take that are plaguy dirty stuff
they'd fight 'em all over the State, inch by inch. But
the Jacksonites said 'twas no use, they might sniff as
much as they pleased, it was the only thing that would
cure 'em, and they must take it, and more than all that,
they was the strongest and they should take it.

Some of the Huntonites looked pale as tho' they were
a little grain frightened, and some of them looked red
as though they were mad as a March hair. And some
of 'em begun to talk to the Jacksonites and tell 'em how
unreasonable it was to make 'em take doctor stuff when
they want sick. They were well now, and like as not if
they should take it; t'would make 'em all sick.

One of 'em, that talked like a very clever man got up
and coaxed 'em to ask the Judges of the great Court if
they thought there was any need of their taking sich
a dose, or if it would do 'em any good if they did take it.
But the Jacksonites said no, they shouldn't ask no sich
questions. They understood the business well enough,
they knew the Huntonites were sick, and they knew this
would cure 'em, and swallow it they should. Well, the
Huntonites see how 'twas gone goose with 'em, and they
thought the only chance left was to put their hands over
their mouths and fight and kick and scrabble with all
their might and keep it out of their throats as long as
they could. Still they tried to talk and reason with the
Jacksonites about it. They asked 'em to let them have
time to examine the medicine carefully and see what it

was made of, or that they would tell 'em what it was
made of, or why they thought it would do any good to
take it. But the Jacksonites said they shouldn't tell 'em
any thing about it, it would be `casting pearls before
swine,' and the good book said they mustn't do so.

The men who had fixed the dose knew what they were
about, they had fixed it right, and the Huntonites must
open their mouths and take it, and not parley any more
about it. And now the real tussle and the hard fight begun.
The House seemed to be so full of Jacksonites and Huntonites
that I guess there was n't but a few republicans
left. And I could n't help minding that the Jacksonites
took the seats of the democratic republicans, and the
Huntonites took the seats of the national republicans.
Well, the Jacksonites took the dose in one hand, and grab'd
the Huntonites with the other, and tipped their heads
back, and were jest agoing to pour it down their throats,
when the Huntonites fetched a spring and kicked it away
to the fourth day of April. But the Jacksonites run after
it and got it back again in about half an hour, and clinched
'em again, and got all ready to pour it down; but jest
as they got it almost to their lips, the Huntonites fetched
another spring and kicked it away to the fourth of
March. Away went the Jacksonites after it again, and
brought it back, and clinched the Huntonites in the same
manner as before, and they kicked it away again, but
they did n't kick this time quite to the end of February.

So they kept it agoing all the forenoon, but every time
the Huntonites kick'd the bitter dose away, it didn't go
so far as it did the last time before. I spose they begun
to grow tired and could n't kick so hard. Well, then
they tried to adjourn so as to get some dinner, but the
Jacksonites would n't let 'em. And they kept 'em there
till four o'clock in the afternoon without any dinner, and
I dont know but they thought the Huntonites would get
so hungry after a while that they would swallow it down
without much fuss. But it all would n't do, the nearer

it come to 'em, the tighter the Huntonites gritted their
teeth together, and I guess they'd a starved before they
would take it. Well after the Jacksonites had tried
nearly twenty times to pour down the bitter dose, and
the Huntonites had kicked it away as many times, both
parties seemed to be nearly tired out, and so they finally
agreed to adjourn till nine o'clock this morning. I
thought the Huntonites, if they once got out, would cut
and run home and get clear of the plaguy stuff. But instead
of that they all come in again this morning, and
they've been at it again all day, hammer and tongs, the
Jacksonites trying to pour it down, and the Huntonites
fighting against it, tooth and nail.

How it 'll come out I cant tell. Whether the State
will be ruined if they dont take it, I cant tell; or whether
it will cure them if they do take it, I can't tell. But I
can assure you, dear uncle, there's a greater fuss here, than
there was when the little boy said he run and jumped
over a fence and tore his trowses as if the heavens and
earth were coming to pieces. If we live through it, I
shall let you know something more about it.

LETTER XXIX.

Dear Uncle Joshua.—I aint dead, but I spose you
begin to feel kind of uneasy about me, bein I have n't
writ home so long. Well, I'll tell you how 'twas; I've
had this ere cold and one thing another, so bad, I did n't
feel hardly smart enough to write. And besides I got
so skeer'd that night the Jacksonites poured their doctor

stuff, what they call the healing plaster, down the
throates of the Huntonites, that I did n't dare to go
nigh 'em agin for a good while for fear they'd pour some
of their pesky stuff down my throat. But I'm sorry I
did n't write afore, for I've let it alone so long now, that
my work has got desputly behindhand. When I writ to
you before, the Jacksonites were holding the Huntonites
by the hair of the head with one hand and trying to
cram the healing plaster down their throats with 'tother,
and the Huntonites were kicking and scrabbling, and
gritting their teeth together with all their might, and
doubling up their fists and stamping, and declaring up
hill and down, that they would never take it. And they
were so upstropulous about it for a while, I did n't know
as they ever would swallow it. But the Jacksonites
were the stoutest, and held on to 'em like a dog to a
root, and kept 'em there all day and all the evening till
about midnight, and then the poor Huntonites seemed
to be a most dragged out. I fairly pitied 'em. Along
in the first of it they threatened pretty stoutly, and declared
by every thing that's black and blue, if they had
to take this dirty dose and should happen to be strongest
next year, they'd make the Jacksonites take a dose
worth two of this. But all the threatening did n't do
any good; and then they fell to begging and coaxing,
and that did n't do any good nother. The Jacksonites
said they should not only take it, but they should take it
that night before they slept. At last they got their
hands and feet tied, and kept bringing it up a little
nearer and little nearer to their mouths, and the Huntonites
got so they could n't do nothing but spit. But
the Jacksonites did n't mind the spitting, for you know
it is n't for the doctor to stand about being spit upon a
little, when he's giving medicine. Just before the last
ont, the poor Huntonites rolled their eyes dreadfully,
and I believe some on 'em lost their senses a little; one
of 'em took a notion that they were agoing to make him
swallow a whole live goose, feathers and all; and he
begged of 'em, if they would n't take out the gizzard
and 'tother inside things, that they'd jest pull out the pin
feathers, so that it would n't scratch his throat going
down. But they did n't pay no attention to him, and
just before the clock struck twelve they grabbed 'em by
the throat, and pried their mouths open, and poured it
in. The Huntonites guggled a little, but they had to
swallow it. A day or two arterwards they made some
of the Sinneters take it in the same way. They had
a considerable tussle for it, but not quite so bad as they
had in the House.

Some thought this healing dose would make the Huntonites
worse, and some thought it would make 'em better.
I've watched 'em ever since they took it whenever
I dared to go near the Legislater, and I cant see much
alteration in 'em. But that or something else has kicked
up a monstrous dust amongst other folks all over the
world amost. I've been looking over the newspapers a
little, and I never see the world in such a terrible hubbub
before in all my life. Every body seems to be running
mad, and jest ready to eat each other up. There's
Russia snapping her teeth like a great bear, and is just
agoing to eat up the Poles, I dont mean Ephraim's bean
poles, but all the folks that live in Poland; not that
are Poland up there where Mr Dunn lives, but that
great Poland over along side of Russia. And there's
the Dutch trying to eat up Holland, and the Belgians
are trying to eat up the Dutch, and there's ` five great
powers' trying to pour a healing dose down the throat
of the king of the Netherlands, and there's Mr O'Connell
trying to make the king of England and Parliament
take a healing dose, and there's Ireland jest ready to
eat up Mr O'Connel, and all the kings of Europe are
trying to eat up the people, and the people are all trying
to eat up the kings.

And our great folks in this country too, away off

there to Washington, have got into such a snarl, I guess
it would puzzle a Philadelphy lawyer to get 'em out of
it. There's the President and Mr Calhoun and Mr
Van Buren and the two great republican papers, and
half a dozen more of 'em, all together by the ears; but
which of 'em will eat up the rest I don't know. I've
heard a good many guess that Mr Van Buren would eat
up the whole toat of 'em; for they say although he's a
small man, there isn't another man in the country, that
can eat his way through a political pudding so slick as
he can. These are dreadful times, uncle; I don't know
what 'll become of the world, if I dont get an office
pretty soon.

It seems to me there must be something out of the
way to make so much confusion in the world; and I
hope the Legislater before they adjourn will pass a general
healing act to cure all these difficulties. They 've
been talking about passing a healing act to cure our
state house up to Augusta, for they say its too small,
and they intend to bring it down here to Portland to
cure it. But I guess it 'll give 'em a pull, for they say
the Kennebeckers are master fellers to hold on.

They had a kind of a flusteration here to-day in the
Legislater. The Speaker 's cleared out, and left 'em,
because the Governor said he'd taken his turn sitting in
the Chair long enough, and he must go and sit on the
Bench awhile now. And then they went to work and
chose that good natured man from Monmouth for Speaker.
I meant to a told you about them are two great
meetings they 've had here to make Governors and
Presidents and one thing another: but I hav'nt time to-day.

One of 'em made Mr Smith Governor for next year
and Gineral Jackson President; and 'tother made Mr
Sprague governor, and kind of put Mr Clay a brewing
for President.

If you think its best for me to run again for governor
another year I wish you'd call our friends together up
there and have me nominated, for there's nothing like
starting in season in these matters.

LETTER XXX.
In which Mr. Downing dreams some poetry.

From the Portland Courier, April, 1831.

[Legislative proceedings extra.—On the evening before the adjournment
of the Legislature, while the members of the House
were waiting for some bill to be engrossed, Mr. Shapleigh of Berwick
presented an order, that a Committee be appointed to consider
the expediency of assessing an annual tax upon a certain class of
gentlemen commonly called Old Bachelors, to be appropriated for
the use and support of a certain class of ladies usually known by
the name of Old Maids, with leave to report by Bill or otherwise.
Mr McCrate of Nobleborough hoped the mover would offer his reasons
for the passage of the order. Mr. Delesdernier said he understood
the order reflected upon his friend from Nobleborough; he
therefore moved it be laid on the table, which motion was decided
in the negative.

Mr Baxter then remarked that he hoped gentlemen would reflect
before they went too far, and not commit an impropriety by way of
amusement. He moved that the order be indefinitely postponed,
which motion prevailed. While we were puzzling ourselves to
know what report we should make of these Legislative proceedings
our friend Jack Downing very opportunely, as he often does, came
in to our aid as follows.]

Dear Cousin Nabby,—I dont hardly know whether to
send this letter to you, or uncle Joshua. You know I
always send all the politics and Legislaters to uncle;
but this ere one 's most all poetry, and they say that stuff
belongs to the ladies. So I believe on the whole I shall
send it to you. Dont you be skeer'd now because I 've

made some poetry, for I dont think it 'll hurt me; I dont
feel crazy nor nothing. But I 'll jest tell you how it
happened. Last night I was in the Legislater and they
sot out to make a law to tax old bacheldors. They tried
pretty hard to make it, and I thought one spell they 'd
get it. I felt kind of bad about it because I knew it
would bear so hard upon cousin Obediah. Well, I went
home and went to bed, and I dont know what the matter
was, but I had a kind of a queer night of it; and when
I got up in the morning there was a soft sort of sickish
stuff kept running off of my tongue, jest like a stream
of chalk. Pray tell me what you think of it; here it is.

LETTER XXXI.
In which Mr Downing tells how he got a new kink into his
head, in consequence of the blow-up of President Jackson's
first Cabinet.

Dear Uncle Joshua,—I'm in considerable of a kind
of a flusteration to-day, because I've got a new scheme
in my head. New ideas, you know, are always apt to
give me the agitations a little; so you mustn't wonder if
my letter this time does have some rather odd things in
it. I don't know when I've had such a great scheme in
my head afore. But you know I was always determined
to make something in the world, and if my friends 'll
only jest stick by me, I shall make common folks stare
yet. Some thought it was a pretty bold push my trying
to get in to be governor last year; and some have laughed
at me, and said I come out at the little end of the horn
about it, and that I'd better staid up to Downingville and
hoed potatoes, than to be fishing about for an office and
not get any more votes than I did. But they can't see
through a millstone so fur as I can. Altho' I didn't get
in to be governor, its made me known in the world, and
made considerable of a great man of me, so that I shall
stand a much better chance to get an office if I try
again. But I must make haste and tell you what I am
at, for I am in a great hurry. I guess you'll stare when
I tell you the next letter you'll get from me will be
dated at Washington, or else somewhere on the road
between here and there.

O, uncle, we have had some great news here from
Washington; every body's up in arms about it, and
can't hardly tell what to think of it. They say the
President's four great Secretaries have all resigned;

only think of that, uncle. And they say their salaries
were six thousand dollars a-year; only jest think of that,
uncle. Six thousand dollars a year. Why, a governor's
salary is a fool to it. On the whole, I'm glad I
didn't get the governor's office. I shall start for Washington
to-morrow morning; or I don't know but I shall
start to night, if I can get ready, and travel all night.
Its best to be in season in such things, and I shall have
to go rather slow, for I've got pretty considerable short
of money, and expect I shall have to foot it part way.
I shall get there in about a fortnight, and I'm in hopes
to be in season to get one of them are offices. I think
it's the duty of all true republicans that have the good
of the country at heart, to take hold and help the President
along in these trying difficulties. For my part, I
am perfectly willing to take one of the offices, and I
hope some other good men will come right forward and
take the others. What a shame 'twas that them are
Secretaries should all clear out, and leave the poor old
General to do all the work alone. Why, uncle, they'd
no more patriotism than your old hoss.

But I must n't stop to parley about it now; what I want
to say is, I wish you to write a recommendation to the
President for me to have one of his offices, and go round
as quick as you can and get all our friends at Downingville
to sign it, and send it on to Washington as fast as
possible; for it would be no more than right that I should
show the President some kind of recommendation before
he gives me the office. I want you to tell the President
that I've always been one of his strongest friends; and
you know I always have spoke well of him, and in fact
he is the best President we ever had. It might be well for
you to quote this last sentence as an `extract from a
letter of the Hon. Jack Downing.' It would give the
President some confidence in my friendship, and the
`Hon.' would convince him that I am a man of some
standing in this State.

Now you keep up a good heart, uncle; you have always
had to delve hard all your days up there on the
old farm, and you've done considerable to boost me up
into an office, and if I get hold of these six thousand
dollars a year, you shall have a slice out of it that will
make your old heels feel light again. I haven't named
it to a single soul here except cousin Sally, and I want
it to be kept a profound secret till I get the office, so as
to make them are chaps that have been a sneering at
me here, stare like an owl in a thunder shower. And,
besides, if it should leak out that I was going, I'm afraid
somebody else might get the start of me, for there are
always enough that have their mouths open when it
rains such rich porridge. But its like as not, the newspapers
'll blab it out before I get half way there. And
you needn't think strange, if you see some of the Boston
or New York papers in a few days saying, `The Hon.
Jack Downing passed through this city yesterday, on his
way to Washington. It is rumored, that he is to be
called upon to fill one of the vacant offices.' But I must
stop, for it is time I was picking up my duds for a start.
Sally has been darning my stockings all the morning.
Love to Aunt and Cousin Nabby, and all of 'em. Good
by.

LETTER XXXII.

Dear Nabby.—One would suppose from Jack's letter
to Uncle, that I was doing all in my power to assist him

in prosecuting his ridiculous plans. But the truth is,
Penelope's trials with her impatient lovers were nothing
compared to mine with Jack. When the news came of
the resignation of the members of the Cabinet at Washington,
I had not seen him for some weeks; I sat by the
window sewing, when in came Jack, and O Nabby, I
shall despair of giving you a description. His toes and
elbows, you know, were always lovers of freedom, and
there they were peeping from their prison houses, so
demure and so wo-begone, it almost made my heart
ache.—Jack tried at first to make me swear secrecy;
but I refused, and told him if he could not rely upon my
discretion he better not say any thing. He seemed in
high spirits, called me a dear cousin, and then revealed
all his plans. I told him never to fear that I should divulge
such ridiculous schemes; so preposterous, I wondered
how they ever entered into the head of a Downing.
I exhausted all my powers of persuasion and argument,
to prevail upon him to let politics alone, and go back to
Downingville, and take care of his farm and his poor infirm
father and mother. He called me a little foolish school
girl, that did n't know which side my bread was buttered;
said I had better stick to my books and such kind of
things, and let the business of the men alone; what did I
know about politics! I must mind my work like a good
gall, and when he was Secretary of State, he 'd give me as
fine a gownd and shorl as any lady in Portland wore. And
finally he insisted upon my going to work to mend his
old footings, and patch his coat. I told him they were
too much worn to be worth mending; but he guessed
they 'd hold on till he got to Washington, and when he
got his six thousand dollars a year, he 'd have some new
ones, and send the old suit home to cousin Ephraim.

I laughed right out, and led him to the glass to see
what an elegant looking object he would be to stand before
the President of the United States. Jack could not
help laughing himself, but said the looks would make no

difference; all President Jackson wanted was a good
man, and one who had been firm in support of him.

I went to work, but with no very good will I assure you;
and though Jack fretted and coaxed, I had no disposition
to hurry, and once when he went out to get the toes of
his shoes mended, I ventured to pick out all I had done.
It was of no use, for he was so eagerly determined to go,
that if I had not finished his coat, he would certainly
have started without it, for he said he could swop his
watch on the road any time for a new coat, or any one
would be willing to trust him for one till he procured his
salary, when he told his name. He says the President
must be aware of his integrity and high-minded patriotism,
and will undoubtedly reserve one of the salaries for
him, as a compensation for his arduous public services.
The public papers, he says, will give him a lift in his pretensions,
and there is no doubt but that he shall be successful.
One thing is certain, the same town will never
hold Jack and me. He is always coming to me for advice
when he gets what he calls the `agitations,' and I
have talked myself almost into a consumption to infuse a
little common sense into him; but all to no purpose, he
will ask advice and then do as he is a mind to.

LETTER XXXIII.

Dear Uncle Joshua, — I have got so fur at last, and
a pretty hard run I've had of it to get here, I can tell

ye. This running after offices is pretty tuff work for
poor folks. Sometimes I think there aint much profit
in it after all, any more than there is in buying lottery
tickets, where you pay a dollar and sometimes get four
shillings back, and sometimes nothing. Howsomever I
dont mean to be discouraged yet, for if I should give out
now and go back again, them are sassy chaps in Portland
would laugh at me worse than they did afore.
What makes me feel kind of down hearted about it, is
because I've seen in the newspapers that tu of them are
good offices at Washington are gone a ready. One Mr
Livingston's got one of 'em, and Mr Woodbury that
lives up in New-Hampshire 's got tother, and I'm considerable
afraid the others will be gone before I get
there.

I want you to be sure and get my recommendation
into the post-office as soon as you can, so it may get
there as soon as I do. It's a week to day since I started
from Portland, and if I have good luck I'm in hopes to
get there in about a week more. Any how, I shall
worry along as fast as I can. I have to foot it more
than three quarters of the way, because the stage folks
ask so much to ride, and my money's pretty near gone.
But if I can only jest get there before the offices are
gone I think I shall get one of 'em, for I got a good
string of recommendations in Boston as I come along.
I never thought of getting any recommendations of
strangers, till a man I was travelling with, kind of talked
round and round, and found out what I was after.
And then says he, if you want to make out, you must
get the newspaper folks to give you a lift, for they
manage these matters. And he told me I better get
some of the Boston editors to recommend me, or it
would be no use for me to go.

I thought the man was more than half right, so when
I got into Boston I called round to see the editors.
They all seemed very glad to see me, when I told 'em

who I was; and I never see a better set of true republicans
any where in the State of Maine. And when I
told 'em that I was always a true republican, and my
father and grandfather were republicans before me,
they all talked so clever about patriotism, and our republican
institutions, and the good of the people, that I
could n't help thinking it was a plaguy shame there
should be any such wicked parties as Federalists, or
Huntonites, or Jacksonites, to try to tare the country
to pieces and plague the republicans so.

This dont include President Jackson. He is n't a
Jacksonite, you know; he 's a true republican as there
is in Downingville. I had a talk with the Boston Patriot
man first. He said he would give me a recommendation
with a good deal of pleasure; and when I got my office
at Washington I must stick to the good old republican
cause like wax; and if all true republicans were only
faithful to the country, Henry Clay, the republican candidate,
will come in all hollow.

He'll be next President, says he, jest as sure as your
name is Jack Downing. Then I went to see the editor
of the Boston Gazette. He said he certainly should be
very happy to give me a recommendation; and he
trusted when I got to Washington where I should have
considerable influence, I should look well to the interests
of the republican party. He said there was an
immense sight of intrigue and underhand work going
on by the enemies of the country to ruin Mr Calhoun,
the republican candidate for President. But he said
they would'nt make out; Mr Calhoun had found out
their tricks, and the republicans of old Virginny and
South Carolina were all up in arms about it, and if we
republicans in the northern states would only take hold
and fight for the good cause, Mr Calhoun would be elected
as true as the sun will rise to-morrow.

The next I went to see was the editor of the Boston
Statesman. He seemed to be a little shy of me at first,

and was afraid I want a true republican; and wanted to
know if I did n't run against Governor Smith last year
down there in Maine. I told him I had seen Governor
Smith a number of times in Portland, but I was sure I
never run against him in my life, and did n't think I
ever come within a rod of him. Well he wanted to
know if I was n't a candidate for Governor in opposition
to Mr Smith. I told him no, I was a candidate on the
same side. Was n't you, said he, looking mighty sharp
at me, was n't you one of the federal candidates for governor?
My stars, uncle Joshua, I never felt my hair
curl quicker than it did then. My hand kind of draw'd
back and my fingers clinched as if I was jest agoing to
up fist and knock him down. To think that he should
charge me with being a federal candidate! it was too
much for flesh and blood to bear. But I cooled down
as quick as I could, for fear it might hurt me about getting
my office. I told him I never was a federal candidate,
and there never was a drop of federal blood in
me; and I would run from a federalist if I should meet
one as quick as I would from poison. That's right, says
he, I like that, that's good stuff, and he catched hold of
my hand and gave it such a shake, I did n't know but
he'd a pull'd it off.

He said he would give me the best recommendation
he could write, and when I got to Washington I must
stick to the old Gineral like the tooth ache, for the
federalists were intriguing desperately to root him out
of his office and upset the republican party. If the republicans
could only be kept together, he said President
Jackson, the republican candidate, could be elected as
easy as a cat could lick her ear; but if we suffered ourselves
to be divided it would be gone goose with us, and
the country would be ruined. So you must stick to the
re-election of Gineral Jackson, said he, at all events; and
then he kind of whispered in my ear, and says he, in
case any thing should happen, if Gineral Jackson should

be sick or any thing, you must remember that Mr Van
Buren is the republican candidate.

I told him he never need to fear me; I should stick
to the republican party thro' thick and thin. So I took
my recommendation and trudged along. I have n't time
to-day to tell you how I got along with the rest of the
editors, and a thousand other things that I met with
along by the way, and all the fine things in this great
city, and so on. But I shall write to you again soon.

LETTER XXXIV.

Dear Uncle Josh, — I've got here at last, to this
great city where they make offices, and I'm determined
not to leave it till I get one. It is n't sich a great city
after all as New York, though they do a great deal more
business here than they do at New York. I dont mean
vessel business and trade, for there's no end to that in
New York, but in making offices and sich like; and they
say its the most profitable business in the country. If a
man can get hold of a pretty good office, he can get
rich enough by it in three or four years, and not have to
work very hard neither. I tell you what, uncle, if I

make out to my mind here, I shall come back again one
of these days in a rather guess way than what I come
on. I dont have to foot it again I'll warrant you, and
guess poor cousin Sally wont have to set up all night to
mend my coat and darn my stockings. You'll see me
coming dressed up like a lawyer, with a fine carriage
and three or four hosses. And then them are chaps in
Portland that used to laugh at me so about being Governor,
may sneeze at me if they dare to, and if they
dont keep out of my way I'll ride right over 'em. I had
a pretty tuff time coming on here. Its a long tiresome
road through the Jarseys. I had to stop twice to get
my shoes tapt, and once to get an old lady to sow up a
rip in my coat while I chopped wood for her at the door
to pay for it. But I shant mind all the hard work I've
had of it, if I can make out to come home rich.

I got a pretty good boost in Boston, as I writ you in
my last, by the editors giving me recommendations. But
it was nothing at all hardly to what I got in New York,
for they gave me a public dinner there. I cant think
what's the matter that it hasn't been published yet. Major
Noah promised me he'd have it all put into the New
York Courier and Enquirer the very next day after I
left New York, so that it should get to Washington as
soon as I did; and now I've been here about a week
and it hasn't come yet. If it does'nt come soon, I shall
write an account of the dinner myself, and send it home
and get it put in the Portland Courier. It was a most
capital dinner, uncle; I dont know as I ever eat hartier
in my life, for being pretty short of money I had pinched
rather close a day or two, and to tell the truth I was
as hungry as a bear. We had toasts and speeches and a
great many good things. I dont mean sich toast as they
put butter on to eat, but toast to drink. — And they dont
exactly drink 'em neither; but they drink the punch
and speak the toasts.

I cant think Major Noah meant to deceive me about

publishing the proceedings of the dinner, for the appeared
to be a very clever man, though he was the funniest
chap that ever I see. There wasn't a man in New York
that befriended me more than he did; and he talked to
me very candidly, and advised me all about how to get
an office. In the first place, says he, Mr Downing, you
cant get any kind of an office at Washington, unless you
are a true blue genuine democratic republican. I told
him I had recommendations coming to prove that I was
all that. They are very strict, says he, in regard to that
at Washington. If James Madison should apply for an
office at Washington, says he, he couldn't get it. What,
says I, him that was President! for it kind of startled
me a little if such an old republican as he was couldn't
get an office. It's true, says he, if James Madison should
apply for an office he couldn't get it. — Why not, says I?
Because, says he, he has turned federalist. It's melancholy
to think, says he, how many good old republicans
at the south are turning federalists lately. He said he
was afraid there wasn't more than one true genuine old
democratic republican left in Virginny, and that was
old Mr Ritchie of the Richmond Enquirer; and even
he seemed to be a little wavering since Mr Calhoun and
some others had gone over.

Well there's Mr Clay, says I, of Kentucky, I dont
think he'll ever flinch from the republican cause. Henry
Clay, says he, turning up his nose, why he's been a
federalist this six years. No, no, Mr Downing, if you
think of going that gate, you may as well turn about and
go home again before you go any further. What gate,
says I? Why to join the Clay party, says he. I told
him I never had sich a thought in my life; I always belonged
to the republican party, and always meant to.
He looked rather good natured again when he heard
that; and says he, do you know what the true republican
doctrine is? I told him I had always had some
kind of an idea of it, but I didn't know as I could explain

it exactly. Well, says he, I'll tell you; it is to
support General Jackson for re-election, through thick
and thin. That is the only thing that will save the country
from ruin. And if general Jackson should be unwell
or any thing jest before election, so he could not
be a candidate, the true republican doctrine is to support
Mr Van Buren. I told him, very well, he might
depend upon my sticking to the republican party, all
weathers. Upon that he set down and wrote me a recommendation
to the President for an office, and it almost
made me blush to see what a master substantial
genuine republican he made me. I had a number more
capital recommendations at New York, but I havn't time
to tell you about 'em in this letter. Some were to Mr
Clay, and some to Mr Van Buren, and some to Mr Calhoun.
I took 'em all, for I thought it was kind of uncertain
whose hands I might fall into hereafter, and it
might be well enough to have two or three strings to
my bow.

I havn't called on the President yet, though I've been
here about a week. My clothes had got so shabby, I
thought I better hire out a few days and get slicked up
a little. Three of the offices that I come after are gone
slick enough, and the other one's been given away to
a Mr White, but he wouldn't take it; so I'm in hopes
I shall be able to get it. And if I dont get that, there's
some chance for me to get in to be Vice President, for
they had a great Jackson meeting here 'tother day, and
they kicked Mr Calhoun right out doors, and said they
wouldn't have him for Vice President no longer. Now
some say they think I shall get it, and some think Mr
Van Buren 'll get it.

Howsomever, I feel pretty safe, for Maj. Noah told
me if I couldn't get any thing else, the President could
easily make a foreign mission for me. I shall call on
the good old Gineral in two or three days and find out
what my luck is, and then I shall let you know. Give

my ove to ant and cousin Nabby, and all of 'em. It
makes me feel kind of bad when I think how fur I've
got from home.

LETTER XXXV.

Dear Uncle Josh. — It's pretty trying times here.
They carry on so like the old smoker, I dont hardly know
what to make of it. If I had n't said I would n't leave
Washington till I got an office, I dont know but I should
come back to Downingville and go to planting potatoes.
Them are Huntonites and Jacksonites down there in
Maine last winter were pretty clever sort of folks to what
these chaps are here. Cause down there if they got ever
so mad, they did n't do nothing but talk and jaw one
another; but here if any body does n't do to suit 'em,
fact they 'll up and shoot him in a minute. I did n't
think getting an office was such dangerous kind of business,
or I dont know as I should have tried it. Howsomever,
it's neck or nothing with me now, and I must
do something to try to get some money here, for I about
as lieves die as to undertake to foot it away back again
clear to the State of Maine. And as the folks have to go
armed here, I want you to put my old fowling piece into
the stage and send it on here as quick as possible. I

hope you'll be as quick as you can about it, for if I get
an office I shant dare to take it till I get my gun. They
come pretty near having a shooting scrape here yesterday.
The Telegraph paper said something about Mr
Eaton's wife. It was nothing that I should think they
need to make such a fuss about; it only said that some
of the ladies here refused to visit her. But some how or
other it made Mr Eaton as mad as a March hair. He
declared he'd fight somebody, he did n't care who.

The first man he happened to come at was Mr Ingham.
So he dared Mr Ingham out to fight. Not to box, as
they do sometimes up in Downingville, but to stand and
shoot at each other. But Mr Ingham would n't touch to,
and told him he was crazy. That made Mr Eaton ten
times more mad than he was before; and he declared
he'd flog him any how, whether he was willing or not.
So he got a gang of gentlemen yesterday to go with him
to the Treasury office where Mr Ingham does his writing,
and waited there and in a grog shop close by as
much as two hours for a chance to catch him and give it
to him. Mr Ingham was out a visiting in the city, and
when he got home his folks told him what was going on,
and begged him not to go to the office for he would certainly
be killed. Poh, says he, do you think I'm afraid
of them are blustering chaps? There's more smoke than
fire there, I can tell ye; give me my pistols, it is time for
me to go to the office. Some of the ladies cried, and some
almost fainted away. But he pacified 'em as well as he
could, and then set out for the office, and three or four
men went with him, and I guess they carried something
under their arms that would make daylight shine through
a feller pretty quick. And I guess the gang of gentlemen
waiting for him begun to smell a rat, for they cleared
out pretty soon and never touched him. But their
courage came again in the evening, and this same gang
of gentlemen turned out and marched up to Mr Ingham's
house, and threatened to burst the doors open and drag

him out by the hair of the head and skin him alive. I
thought this was carrying the joke rather too far, so I
tho't I'd put in my oar; for when I see any body run
upon too hard I cant help taking their part.

So I stepped up on to Mr Ingham's front door steps,
and threw my hat down, and rolled up my sleeves, and
spit on my hands; and by that time the chaps began to
stare at me a little. And now, says I, Major Eaton, this
is quite too bad. A man's house in his castle. Here's
Mr Ingham in his house as peaceable as a lamb; he is
n't a meddling with nobody, and you need n't think to
drag him out here to-night, I can tell ye. If you really
want to take a bit of a box, just throw away your powder
and ball, and here's the boy for you. I'll take a fist
or two with you and glad of the chance. You impudent
scoundrel, says he, who are you? what business is it to
you what I done? Clear out, or I'll send you where you
ought to been long ago. Well, then, you'll send me into
some good office, says I, for there's where I ought to
have been more than two years ago. Well, says he,
clear out, and up he come blustering along towards the
steps. But I jest put my foot down, and doubled up my
fist, and now, says I, Major Eaton, it wont be healthy for
you to come on to these steps to-night.

Says he, I'm going through that door whether or no.
Says I, you dont go through this door to-night, without
you pass over the dead body of Jack Downing of the State
of Maine. My stars, when they heard that, they dropt
their heads as quick as though they had been cut off, for
they did n't know who I was before. Major Eaton and
the whole gang of gentlemen with him turned right about
and marched away as still as a pack of whipped puppies.
They were afraid I should have 'em all up before the
President to-day, and have 'em turned out of office; for
it's got whispered round the city that the President sets
a great deal by me, and that I have a good deal of influence
with him.

This morning Mr Ingham started for Philadelphy.
Before he left, he thanked me a thousand times for defending
his house so well last night, and he wrote a letter
to the President, telling him all about the scrape. I went
a piece with him to see him safe out of the city on the
great road towards Baltimore.

About my prospects for an office, I cant tell you yet
how I shall come out. I've been in to see the President
a number of times, and he talks very favorable. I have
some chance to get in to be Secretary of War, if old
Judge White dont take it; and if I dont get that the
President says he 'll do the best he can for me.

I never had to be so strict a republican before in my
life as I've had to be since I've been here in order to get
the right side of the President. I'll tell you something
about it in my next, and about my visits to the President,
and a good many other famous things here.

P. S. Be sure and send the old gun as quick as possible.

LETTER XXXVI.
In which Cousin Ephraim tells about the persecution of
poor Mrs No-tea.

TROUBLE IN DOWNINGVILLE.

Dear Cousin Jack. — Your uncle Joshua has been
turned out of General Combs' employ only jest because
your cousin Naby, Mrs Inkhorn, and Mrs Thimblebury,
and a few other of the topping-folks, wouldn't invite

poor Mrs No-tea to their husking and quilting parties.
I had a long talk with the General t'other day — he was
hopping mad, and declared he would turn every man
and woman off of his farm and out of his mills rather
than that good woman should be treated in the manner
she had been. She was as good as the best of 'em any
day, and he could prove it. He didn't care so much
about her going to their afternoon visits when they went
sociable without stays, and took their knitting-work and
got home again before milking time; but when there
was a grand husking or quilting, he thought it pesky
hard and lonely for her to stay at home, while every
body else in Downingville was trying the double shuffle
and the cutting out jigg. I tho't so too; but I told the
General it was no use for him to make such a fuss about
it; that he had better attack old Ticonderogue in front
and rear than undertake to make women haw or jee
if they want a mind to — they always would have their
own way in spite of every body and Tom Walker besides,
and the less he had to do with them the better.
With that he up and smashed his pipe into the fire-place
and stompt like fury and bedlame.

I scampered off in less than no time to inform you
how matters were going. You had better come up and
try to put things to rights.

As you have no wife nor children, I think you can
manage affairs more to your own and the General's
liking than any one else of the family.

LETTER XXXVII.
Mr Downing receives a Captain's Commission in the United
States Army with orders to go and protect the inhabitants
of Madawaska.

Dear Uncle Josh,— I've got it at last as true as you're
alive, and now I dont keer a snap for the fattest of 'em.
I'll teach them are young chaps down to Portland that
used to poke fun at me so because I did n't get in to be
Governor, that they must carry a better tongue in their
heads, or they 'll find out who they are talking to. I
guess they'll find out by and by it wont be healthy for
'em to poke fun at an officer of my rank. And as for
Jemime Parsons that married the school master winter
before last, when she had promised as fair as could be
that she would have me, she may go to grass for what I
keer; I would n't have her now no more than I'd have
a Virginny nigger. And I guess when she comes to see
me with my regimentals on she'll feel sorry enough, and
wish her cake was dough again. Now she's tied down
to that clodpole of a school master, that was 'nt fit for a
school master neither, for he has had to go to hoeing potatoes
for a living, and much as ever he can get potatoes
enough to keep 'em from starving, when if she had only
done as she had promised, she might now be the wife of
Capt. Jack Downing of the United States Army. But
let her go; as I said afore, I dont care a snap for her or
all old White's cattle. I'll tell you what 'tis uncle, I feel
about right now. It seems to me I could foot it home
in two days, for my feet never felt half so light before.

There's nothing like trying, in this world, uncle; any
body that tries can be something or other, if he dont get
discouraged too soon. When I came on here, you
know, I expected to get one of the great Secretaries'
offices; but the good old President told me they had got
him into such a hobble about them are offices that he
could n't give me one of 'em if he was to die. But he
treated me like a gentleman, and I shall always vote for
him as long as I live, and I told him so. And when he
found out that I was a true genuine republican, says he,
Mr Downing, you must be patient, and I'll bear you in
mind, and do something for you the very first chance.
And you may depend upon it Mr Downing, he added
with a good deal of earnestness, I never desert my
friends, let that lying Stephen Simpson of Philadelphy
say what he will about it, a good for nothing ungrateful
dog. And he fetched a stomp with his foot and his eyes
kind of flashed so fiery, that I could n't help starting
back, for I did n't know but he was going to knock me
over. But he look'd pleasant again in a minute, and
took me by the hand, and now, says he, Mr Downing, I
give you my honor that I'll do something for you as soon
as I possibly can. I told him I hoped he would be as
spry as he could about it, for I had but jest ninepence
left, and I did n't know how I should get along very well,
in a strange place too. But he told me never to mind
that at all; I might come and eat my meals at his house
whenever I'd a mind to, or he would be bondsman for
my board where I put up. So I've worked along from
that time to this, nearly four months, as well as I could,
sometimes getting a little job of garden-work, and sometimes
getting a little wood to saw, and so on, nearly
enough to pay my expenses. I used to call and see the
President once in a while, and he always told me I must
be patient and keep up a good heart, the world was n't
made in one day, and something would turn up for me
by and by. But fact, after digging, and sawing, and
waiting four months, my patience got most wore out,
and I was jest upon the point of giving up the chase,
and starting off for Downingville with the intention of
retiring to private life; when last night, about seven
o'clock, as I sot eating a bowl of bread and milk for my
supper, a boy knocked at the door and wanted to see
Mr Downing. So they brought him into the room where
I was, and says he, Mr Downing, the President wants to
see you for something very particular, right away this
evening. My heart almost jump'd right up in my mouth.
My spoon dropt out of my hand, and to eat another
mouthful I could n't if I was to starve. I flew round,
and washed my face and hands, and combed my head,
and brushed up as well as I could, and should have looked
tolerable spruce if it had n't been for an unlucky hole
in the knee of my trouses. What to do I did not know.
It made me feel bad enough I can tell you. The woman
where I boarded said she would mend them for me if I
would take them off, but it would take her till about nine
o'clock, and the President was waiting for me, and there
'twas. Such a hobble I never was in before. But this
woman is a kind good creature as ever was; she boards
me for four and sixpence a week, considering that I
split wood for her, and bring water, and do all sich kind
of chores. And she always had some contrivance to get
out of every difficulty; and so she handed me a neat
little pocket handkerchief and told me to tie that round
my knee. Being thus rigged out at last, I started off as
fast as I could go for the President's.

When I went into his room, the old gentleman was
setting by a table with his spectacles on, and two great
lamps burning before him, and a bundle of letters and
papers in his hand. He started up and took me by the
hand, and says he, good evening Mr Downing, I 'm very
glad to see you; you are the very man I want now,
above all others in the world. But how is this, said he?
looking at my knee. Not lame, I hope? That would

be a most unfortunate thing in this critical moment. It
would knock my plan in the head at once. I felt kind
of blue, and I guess I blushed a little; but I turned it
off as well as I could; I told him I was n't lame at all,
it was nothing but a slight scratch, and by to-morrow
morning I should be as well as ever I was in my life.
Well then says he, Mr Downing, set down here and see
what I 've got to tell you. The old gentleman set himself
back in his chair and pushed his spectacles up on
his forehead and held up the letter in his hand, and says
he, Mr Downing, here is a letter from Governor Smith
of Maine, and now Sir, I 've got something for you to do.
You see now that I was sincere when I told you if you
would be patient and stick to the republican text, I would
look out for you one of these days. I 'm always true to
my friends; that lying Stephen Simpson might have had
an office before now if he had behaved himself.

Well, dear sir, said I, for I felt in such a pucker to
know what I was going to get that I could n't stand it
any longer, so says I, what sort of business is it you 've
got for me to do? Says he, Mr Downing, I take it you
are a man of courage; I have always thought so ever
since you faced Mr. Eaton so boldly on Mr. Ingham's
door steps. Tho' I was sorry your courage was not displayed
in a better cause, for that Ingham is a rascal after
all. I told him as for courage I believed I had some of
the stuff about me when there was any occasion for it,
and that I never would stand by and see any body
abused. Well, says, he, we must come to the point, for
the business requires haste.

Governor Smith writes me that there are four of your
fellow citizens of Maine in a British jail at Fredericton,
who have been taken from their farms by British constables
and sheriffs and other officers and carried off by
force to prison. By this time my very hair begun to
curl, I felt so mad, and I could n't help jumping up and
smiting my fists together, and saying pretty hard things

about the British. Well, says the President, I like your
spunk Mr Downing; you 're jest the man I want in this
business. I 'm going to give you a captain's commission
in the United States' army, and you must go down there
and set that business right at Madawaska.

You must go to Maine and raise a company of volunteers,
as quick as possible, tell 'em I 'll see 'em paid,
and you must march down to Fredericton and demand
the prisoners, and if they are not given up you must
force the jail, and if the British make any resistance
you must fire upon them and bring the prisoners off at
some rate or other. Then write me and let me know
how affairs stand, and I 'll give you further orders. At
any rate you must see that the rights of Maine are well
protected, for that state has come round so in my favor
since last year I 'm determined to do every thing I can
for them; I tell you Mr Downing, I never desert my
friends. So after he gave me the rest of my orders, and
my commission, and a pocket full of money, and told
me to be brave and if I wanted any thing to let him
know, he bid me good night, and I went home. But I
could n't sleep a wink all night. I was up before day
light this morning, and I 've got two women to work for
me to day fixing up my clothes, and I shall be ready to
start to morrow morning. I want you to keep this matter
pretty still till I get there, except that you my let
cousin Ephraim know it and get him to volunteer some
of the Downingville boys for my company. I want to
get them pretty much all there if I can, for I know what
sort of stuff the Downingville boys are made of, and
shall know what I 've got to depend upon.

LETTER XXXVIII.
In which Captain Downing describes his return to Downingville,
after an absence of two years.

My dear old Friend, you. — I got home to Downingville
last night after an absence of nearly two years. I
meant to stop at Portland as I come on from Washington,
but some how or other, I got into the wrong stage
somewhere in New Hampshire, and come the upper
road before I knew it. So the first thing I knew, when
I thought I had got almost to Portland, I found myself
plump in Downingville. But the dear folks were all so
glad to see me, I didn't feel much sorry. Cousin Nabby
hopped right up and down, like a mouse treed in a flour
barrel; and Ephraim snapped his thumb and finger,
and spit on his hands as though he had a cord of wood
to chop; and poor ant Keziah set down and cried as
much as two hours steady. Uncle Joshua catched down
his pipe, and made the smoke roll out well; I never saw
him smoke so fast before in my life; he finished two
pipes full of tobacco in less than five minutes. I felt
almost like a fool myself, and had to keep winking and
swallowing, or I should have cried as hard as any of
'em. But you know it wouldn't do for a captain to cry,
especially when he was going to enlisting soldiers.

Well, I must hurry along with my letter, for I haven't
got much time to write to-day. I have been round
among the folks in Downingville this forenoon to see
how they felt about the Madawaska business, and whether
any of 'em would go a sogering down there with
me. I find some of 'em are right up about it, and ready

to shoulder their guns and march to-morrow if I say the
word, and others are a little offish.

I guess I shall get about half enough for a company
here pretty easy, and if I find it hard dragging to pick
up the rest, I shall come right down to Portland to fill
up my company there. For uncle Joshua tells me he
has had some letters from Portland within a few days,
and he says there are a number of chaps down there as
warm as mustard about going to war down to Madawaska,
and are only waiting for a good chance to list,
and some of 'em he thinks will make capital sargents
and corporals. I should be glad if you would send me
word whether you think I could pick up some good lusty
fellows there in case I should want 'em. I pay a month's
wages cash down. But there is one subject that I feel
rather uneasy about, and that is the greatest reason of
my writing you to-day, to see if you can tell me any
thing about it. Last night uncle Joshua and I sot up
talking politicks pretty late, after all the rest of the folks
had gone to bed. I told him all about one thing another
at Washington, and then we talked about the affairs of
this State.

I found uncle Joshua didn't stand jest where he used
to. You know once he was a little might in favor of Mr
Huntoon; and then, when I was up for Governor, he
was altogether in favor of me; and then he was pretty
near equally balanced between Mr Smith and Mr Goodenow;
but now, when I come to talk with him, I found
he was all plump over on the democratic republican
side. You know I've been leaning that way tu, ever
since I got in to be good friends long with President
Jackson. So says I, Well, uncle, our party is strong
enough now to carry all afore 'em in this State. I guess
governor Smith will have more than three quarters of
the votes next time. At which uncle turned round towards
me, and rolled up his great eyes over his spectacles,
and took his pipe out of his mouth and put on a

mighty knowing look, and says he, Jack, jest between
you and me, a much better man and a much greater republican
than Gov. Smith, will be Governor of the State of
Maine after another election.

I was kind of struck with a dunderment. I sot and
looked at him as much as two minutes, and he all the
time looked as knowing as a fox. At last, says I, Uncle,
what do you mean? Didn't all the democratic republican
papers in the State, when Gov. Smith was elected,
say he was the very best republican there was in the
State for Governor? Well, well, Jack, said he, mark
my words, that's all. But, said I, uncle, what makes
you think so? O, said he, I have read the Argus and
the Bangor Republican, and I have had a letter from a
man that knows all about it, and when the time comes
you'll see. And that was all I could get out of him.
Now I wish you would let me know what this mystery
means. And I remain your old friend,

LETTER XXXIX.

My good old Sir. — The prisoners are out and no
blood spilt yet. I had prepared to give the British a
most terrible battle, if they hadn't let 'em out. I guess
I should made 'em think old Bonapart had got back
among 'em again, for a keener set of fellows than my
company is made up of never shouldered a musket or
trod shoe-leather. I was pesky sorry they let 'em out
quite so soon, for I really longed to have a brush with

'em; and how they come to let 'em go I dont know,
unless it was because they heard I was coming. And I
expect that was the case, for the prisoners told me the
British Minister at Washington, sent on some kind of
word to governor Campbell, and I suppose he told him
how I had got a commission, and was coming down
upon New Brunswick like a harrycane.

If I could only got down there a little sooner and fit
sich a great battle as you did at New Orleans, my
fortune would have been made for this world. I should
have stood a good chance then to be President of the
United States, one of these days. And that's as high as
ever I should want to get. I got home to Downingville
in little more than a week after I left you at Washington,
for having a pretty good pocket full of money,
and knowing that my business was very important I
rid in the stage most all the way. I spose I needn't
stop to tell you how tickled all my folks were to see me.
I did'nt know for awhile but they'd eat me up. But I
spose that's neither here nor there in making military
reports, so I'll go on. I found no difficulty in getting
volunteers. I believe I could have got nearly half the
State of Maine to march if I had wanted 'em. But as
I only had orders to list one good stout company, I took
'em all in Downingville, for I rather trust myself with
one hundred genuine Downingville boys, than five hundred
of your common run. I took one supernumerary
however, when I got to Bangor. The editor of the
Bangor Republican was so zealous to go, and said he'd
fight so to the last drop of his blood, that I could'nt
help taking him, so I appointed him supernumerary
corporal. Poor fellow, he was so disappointed when he
found the prisoners were out that he fairly cried for
vexation. He's for having me go right on now and give
all New Brunswick a real thrashing.

But I know what belongs to gineralship better than
that; I haven't had my orders yet. Well, after we

left Bangor we had a dreadful rough and tumble sort of
a journey, over rocks and mountains and rivers and
swamps and bogs and meadows, and through long pieces
of woods that I did n't know as we should find the way
out. But we got through at last, and arrived here at
Madawaska day before yesterday. I thought I better
come this way and make a little stop at Madawaska to
see if the prisoners' wives and little ones were in want
of any thing and then go down to Fredericton and blow
the British ski high.

When our company first came out in sight in Madawaska,
they thought it was the British coming to catch
some more of 'em; and such a scattering and scampering
I guess you never see. The men flew into the
woods like a flock of sheep with forty dogs after 'em,
and the women catched their babies up in their arms
and run from one house to another screeching and
screaming enough to make the woods ring again. But
when they found out we were United States troops come
to help 'em, you never see any body so glad. They all
cried for joy then. The women run into the woods and
called for their husbands to come back again, for there
was nobody there that would hurt them, and back they
came and treated us with the best they had in their
houses. And while we sot chatting, before the women
hardly got their tears wiped up, one of 'em looked up
towards the woods and screamed out there comes the prisoners.
Some turned pale a little, thinking it might be
their ghosts, but in a minute in they come, as good flesh
and blood as any of us, and then the women had another
good crying spell.

I asked one of the prisoners how they got away, for
I thought you would want to know all about it; and
says he we come away on our legs. Did you break out
of jail, said I? I guess there was no need of that, said
he, for we want locked in half the time. Did you knock
down the guard, said I, and fight your way out?

Humph! said he, I guess we might have hunted one
while before we could find a guard to knock down.
Nobody seemed to take any care of us, if we wanted a
drop of grog we had to go out and buy it ourselves.
Well but, said I, if you were left in such a loose state as
that, why did you not run away before? Tut, said he,
shrugging up his shoulders, I guess we knew what we
were about; the longer we staid there the more land
the state of Maine would give us to pay us for being
put in jail, but when they turned us out of jail, and
would'nt keep us any longer, we thought we might as
well come home.

And now, my good old sir, since matters are as they
are, I shall take up my head quarters here at Madawaska
for the present, and wait for further orders. I shall
take good care of the people here, and keep every thing
in good order, and not allow a single New Brunswicker
to come any where within gun-shot. As for that Leftenant
Governor, Mr Archibald Campbell, he better keep
himself scarce; if he shows his head here again, I shall
jest put him into a meal bag and send him to Washington.
I shall expect to hear from you soon, and as I
shall have to be here sometime, I dont know but you had
better send me on a little more money. My uniform got
rather shattered coming through the woods, and it will
cost me something to get it fixt up again.

LETTER XL.
Capt. Downing visits the Legislature of Maine again.

My dear old Friend, — Here I am right among the
Legislater folks, jest as I used to be down there to Portland.
I got here last night after a pretty hard journey
from Madawaska, rather lame, and my feet and ears
froze pretty bad. I hope I shant lose any one of 'em,
for if I should lose my feet I should n't stand much
of a fag with the British down there to Fredericton
in case we should have a brush with 'em. And all
my hopes about ever being President of the United
States depends on the woful whipping I 'm going to give
the British. And I 'm afraid I should n't be much better
off if I should lose my ears, for a President without
ears would cut rather a sorry figure there to Washington.
I sent on to the old President to see if he would let me
have a furlough to come up to Augusta, while the Legislaters
were here, for I thought I could n't stan it without
being here to see how they get along. The President
said he did n't think there would be any fighting down
to Madawaska before the spring opens, so he did n't
care if I went. I jest hobbled into the Legislater to-day
to see 'em chuse officers; but I have n't any time to tell
you what a great fine house they 've got into. I believe
it 's vastly better than the one they had to Portland
though. And I guess there 'll be no stopping the
wheels of government this year, for I believe they have
got the house fixed so as to carry the wheels by steam.[1]

They got the steam up before I went in, and it was so
thick sometimes, that I should think the wheels might go
like a buzz.

They told me there was a good many new members,
and a good many more of 'em, than there was last year;
so I did n't know as I should see hardly any body that
I knew. But I never was more agreeably disappointed
in my life than I was by the first voice I heard calling
the members to order.

I knew it as quick as I could tell the fife and drum of
my own company at Madawaska. And if I should hear
that fife and drum this very minute it would n't give a
pleasanter thrill to my feelings. I look'd round and sure
enough there was the sandy honest look, and the large
fleshy figure, of my old friend Mr. Knowlton of Montville,
holding a broad brimmed hat in his hand, and calling
upon the great jam of folks to come to order. I
could n't hardly help crowding right in among 'em to
shake hands with him, I was so glad to see him. But
as I was only a lobby member I thout it would n't do.

But I 'll tell you what 't is, you may depend upon the
business going off glibb here this winter; for having a
building go by steam and Mr Knowlton here too to drive
it, it aint all the Jacksonites and Huntonites in the state
that can stop it. And besides I cant find out as yet that
there is any more than one party here; if there should
be hereafter, I 'll let you know. I was glad they chose
Mr White to be speaker, for he 's always so good natured
and uses every body so well, I cant help liking him. I
have n't been in the Sinnet yet, but they say Mr Dunlap
is President. I was in hopes to see Elder Hall here this
winter, but I believe he has n't come.

LETTER XLI.
Progress of proceedings in the Legislature.

My dear old Friend. — If I could n't write to you
once in a while, I don't know but I should die. When
any thing has kept me from writing two or three weeks,
I get in such a taking it seems as though I should split,
and the only way I can get relief is to take my pen and
go at it. The reason why you have n't heard from me
this fortnight past, is this dreadful furenza. We've all
got it here, and it's nothing but cough, cough, the whole
time. If a member gets up to speak, they all cough at
him. If he says any thing that they like, they cough at
it; and if he says any thing that they dont like, they
cough at it. So let him say what he will they keep a
steady stream of coughing. I've been amost sick for a
week. Some days I want hardly able to set up. But
I'm getting cleverly now, and I hope I shall be able to
let you hear from me once or twice a week during the
session.

The wheels of government go pretty well this winter.
Some say that some folks have tried to trig 'em two or
three times, but I dont hardly think that is the case, for
they havn't been stopt once. And, as I said in my last letter,
if my friend Mr Knowlton stands as foreman, and
keeps his broad shoulders to the wheels, I dont believe
they will stop this winter. By the way, I made a little
small mistake about Mr Knowlton's hat. I should n't have
thought it worth while to mention it again, if the Augusta
Courier of this morning had n't spoke of it as though I
did n't mean to tell the truth. Now you know Mr Editor,
I would n't be guilty of tellng a falsehood for my

right hand. When Mr Knowlton called the members to
order the first day of the session, I certainly thought I
saw him holding in his hand a broad brimmed white hat.
It might be my imagination, remembering how he used
to look, or it might possibly be the hat of the member
standing by the side of him, for I was some ways off.

I'm pesky fraid the general government may settle that
hash down there to Madawaska as Mr Netherlands that
they left out to, recommended. If they should I'm afraid
my jig would be up about fighting a battle very soon, or
getting in to be President.

Our party's got into a dreadful kind of a stew here
about who shall be next Senator to Congress and one
thing another. We've got into such a snarl about it,
I'm afraid we never shall get unravelled again without
cutting off the tangles, and that would divide us so we
never should hold together in the world. I wrote to the
Argus yesterday, to be sure not to reply to the Age for
its ungentlemanly remarks about Judge Preble, and hope
it will be prudent enough to follow my recommendation.
We must try to hush these matters up, or it 'll be the
death of the party. I've had a serious talk with friend
Ruggles, and am in hopes he'll put his hand over the
Thomaston paper and not let it belch out any thing that
our enemies can make a handle of. And I guess we
shall have a caucus and try to put a cooler on the Bangor
Republican and the Age.

The Legislaters like Augusta considerable well, if it
did n't cost 'em so much more than it did in Portland for
a living. Such as had to pay two dollars and a half in
Portland for board have to pay three and four dollars
here. When I was in Portland, I used to get boarded
for seven and six pence a week, and here the cheapest
I could get boarded any where, was ten and sixpence.
The Augusta Courier last week said something about the
folks here giving me a public dinner. I should like it
pretty well, for I have rather slim dinners where I
board.

If you see cousin Sally, I wish you'd jest ask her if
she has time before and after school, if she'll knit me a
pair of footings and send 'em up by the stage-driver, for
mine have got pretty full of holes, and I have n't any
body here to mend 'em.

LETTER XLII.
Capt. Downing is suddenly called to his company at Madawaska.

About the quarrel that our party's got into, I 'm pesky
fraid it 'll blow us up yet; and I don't know what we
shall do to stop it. We 've had a caucus as I told you
we should in my last letter, and tried to hush matters up
as well as we could. But some of 'em are so grouty, I
expect nothing but what they 'll belch out again.

I was glad the Argus took my advice and kept back
the reply to the Age.

We had a little bit of a tussle here to see who should
be appointed agent to go to Washington to tell the President
to hold on to the territory down to Madawaska.
Mr Preble and Mr Deane and I were the three principal
candidates. — Some thought Mr Preble ought to go because
it would be for the interest of the republican party;
and some thought Mr Deane ought to go because he had
been down there a good deal and knew all about the
Madawaska country; and some thought I ought to go because
I had been down there the last of any body, and because
I was such good friends with the President I should
be likely to do better than any body else could. I thought
my claims were the strongest, and the Governor said he
thought so too. But he said as affairs now stood it
would n't do to appoint any body but Mr Preble.

And besides I dont know as I ought to go off jest now,
for I had a letter yesterday from one of my subalterns
down to Madawaska, that there 's some trouble with my
company there: some of the Sarjents been breaking orders,
&c, and I dont know but I shall have to go down
and Court Martial 'em.

LETTER XLIII.
Capt. Downing returns to Augusta. Is saved from freezing
by a bear-skin.

Dear Friend,—The more I write to you, it seems to
me the better I like you. I believe there is n't but one
person that I set so much by, and that is Gineral Jackson,
who was so kind as to give me a commission, and
let me have spending money besides. I 'm pretty much
out of money now, and the man that I board with keeps
dunning me for pay; so I wish you would be so kind as
to send me four or five dollars till I get some more from
the President. I writ for it last week, and I think I shall
get it in a few days. I told you in my last letter, if I
got over the furenza, you should hear from me pretty
often. I 'm getting nicely again now. I dont cough
more than once in five minutes or so, and my toes and
ears that were froze so bad coming up from Madawaska
are nearly healed over. All I have to do to 'em now is
jest to grease 'em a little when I go to bed at night and
in the morning when I get up. I have to keep a handkerchief
over my ears yet when I go out, but my toes are

so well I dont limp hardly a mite. As to our legislater
business we get along middling well, but not quite so fast
as I thought we should considerin it goes by steam. One
reason I suppose is because Mr Knowlton has been a
good deal unwell and could n't take hold and drive it
right in end as he used to. But he 's got better now, so
I hope the wheels will begin to buzz again.

Here I be again, my dear friend, right back on the old
spot, poking about the Legislater to see what's going on,
and to help take care the interests of our party. I got
down there to Madawaska jest in the nick of time; for
I got a hoss and rid day and night; and it was well I
did, for Sargant Joel had got so outrageous mad, I raly
believe if I had n't got there the day I did, he would
have strung one or two of 'em right up by the neck.
But I quashed matters at once and sot 'em to studying
that are little court martial book, and told 'em
when they had any more fuss they must try all their
cases by that, and they would n't find any law for hanging
in it.

It's dreadful cold down there to Madawaska, I froze
my toes and ears again a little, but not so bad as I did
afore, for I took care to rop up in a great bear skin. I
see the Legislater's been disputing about passing a law
to kill off all the bears and wolves and sich kind of
critters.

I dont know whether that's a good plan or not.
There's a good deal might be said on both sides.
Them are bears are pesky mischievous. I heard a
story while I was gone, but I dont know how true 'tis,
how a great bear chased the Councillor that the Governor
sent down to Fredickton to carry provisions to our
prisoners in jail there. Some reckoned the bear smelt
the bread and cheese that he had in his saddle bags, and
so took after him to get some of it. However, the

Councillor got back safe. But I think this is a great
argument in favor of killing off the bears. And on the
other hand I believe the bear skin was all that kept me
from freezing to death going to Madawaska tother day.
So it seems we ought not to kill 'em quite all off, but
raise enough to keep us in bear-skins; for I suppose my
life would be worth as much to the State as the Councillor's.

I feel a little put out with Dr Burnham for an unhansome
running he gave me 'tother day in the Senate.
He called me an `old rogue.' I cant swallow that
very well; for that's a character I never bore in Downingville
nor Washington, nor any where else. He was
disputing about paying Mr Deane and Cavano for going
to Madawaska. He said they had n't ought to pay
so much, for if they went at this rate, next thing that
old rogue, Capt. Jack Downing, would be sending in
his bill.

But he need n't trouble himself about that, for as long
as I have President Jackson to look to for paymaster, I
dont care a snap about sending in any bills to the Legislater.
But as for being called an old rogue, I wont. I
dont mean to make a great fuss about it in the papers,
as the Argus and Age did, so as to break up the harmony
of the republican party. But if Dr Burnham dont
give me satisfaction, I'll call a caucus of the party and
have him over the coals and du him over.

LETTER XLIV.
In which Captain Downing tells about the Legislature's
making Lawyers.

My Dear Old Friend, — I begin to feel as uneasy
as a fish out of water, because I havn't writ to you for
most two weeks. Now, old March has come, and found
us digging here yet; and sometimes I'm most afraid we
shall be found digging here, when we ought to be at
home digging potatoes, or planting of 'em at least. I've
been waiting now above a week for the Legislater to do
something, that I could write to you about; but they
dont seem to get along very smart lately. Sometimes
the wheels almost stop; and then they start and rumble
along a little ways, and then they drag again. I dont
think we shall get through before sometime next week,
if we do before week arter. These secret sessions take
up a good deal of time. I dont see what in natur they
have so many of 'em for. I tried to get into some of
'em, but they wouldn't let me; they said lobby members
had no business there, and shot the door right in my
face. There's one kind of business though that they
carry on here pretty brisk lately, and that is, making
lawyers. Some days they make 'em almost as fast as
uncle Ephraim used to make sap-troughs; and I've
known him to chop off and hew out two in fifteen minutes.

But for all the Legislater can make 'em so fast, it is
as much as ever they can get along with all that come
and want to be made over into lawyers. And 'tother
day, when the law committee got pretty well stuck, having
so many of 'em on hand, a new batch come up, and

Mr Hall of your town moved to refer them to the committee
on manufactures. This is a capital committee to
make things, and I havn't heard any complaint since,
but what they can turn 'em out as fast as they come.
It rather puzzled me at first to know what made every
body want to be worked over into lawyers; so I asked
one of 'em that stood waiting round here a day or two,
to be put into the hopper and ground over, what he
wanted to be made into a lawyer for? And he kind of
looked up one side at me, and give me a knowing wink,
and says he, don't you know that the lawyers get all the
fat things of the land, and eat out the insides of the oisters,
and give the shels to other folks? And if a man
wants to have any kind of an office, he can't get it unless
he's a lawyer; if he wants to go to the Legislater,
he can't be elected without he's a lawyer; and if he
wants to get to Congress, he cant go without he's a lawyer;
and any man that don't get made into a lawyer as
fast as possible, I say, is a fool. The whole truth come
across my mind then, as quick as a look, why it was that
I spent two or three years trying to get an office, and
couldn't get one. It was because I wasn't a lawyer.
And I dont believe I should have got an office to this
day, if my good friend President Jackson hadn't found
out I was a brave two fisted chap, and jest the boy to go
down to Madawaska and flog the British.

We've agreed unanimously to support Governor Smith
for re-election; and he'll come in all hollow, let the
Jacksonites and Huntonites say what they will about it.
Our party know too well which side their bread is buttered,
to think of being split up this heat. I should
write you more to day, but I feel so kind of agitated
about these secret sessions,[2] that I cant hardly hold my
pen still. I'm a little afraid they are intriguing to send

on to the President to take my commission away from
me. It has been thrown out to me that I ought to be
down to Madawaska, instead of being here all winter.
Some have hinted to me that Mr Clifford has taken a
miff against me, because the other day when he was
chosen Speaker pro. tem. one of my friends voted for
me; and he thinks I was a rival candidate, and means
to have me turned out of office if he can.

LETTER XLV.
Capt. Downing is in a peck of trouble about the Legislature's
selling Madawaska to the General Government to
be given up to the British, and sits down and figures up
the price.

My dear old Friend, — I cleared out from Augusta
in such a kind of a whirlwind, that I hadn't time to write
you a single word before I left. And I feel so kind of
crazy now, I dont know hardly which end I stand upon.
I've had a good many head-flaws and worriments in my
life time, and been in a great many hobbles, but I never,
in all my born days, met with any thing that puzzled
me quite so bad as this ere selling out down here. I fit
in the Legislater as long as fighting would do any good,
that is, I mean in the caucus, for they wouldn't let me
go right into the Legislater in the day time and talk to
'em there, because I was only a lobby member. But

jest let them know it, lobby members can do as much as
any of 'em on sich kind of business as this. I laid it
down to 'em in the caucus as well as I could. I asked
'em if they didn't think I should look like a pretty fool,
after marching my company down there, and standing
ready all winter to flog the whole British nation the
moment any of 'em stept a foot on to our land, if I
should now have to march back again and give up the
land and all without flogging a single son-of-a-gun of
'em. But they said it was no use, it couldn't be helped:
Mr Netherlands had given the land away to the British,
and the President had agreed to do jest as Mr Netherlands
said about it, and all we could do now was to get
as much pay for it as we could.

So I set down and figured it up a little to see how
much it would come to, for I used to cypher to the rule
of three when I went to school, and I found it would
come to a pretty round sum. There was, in the first
place, about two millions of acres of land. This, considerin
the timber there was on it, would certainly be
worth a dollar an acre, and that would be two millions
of dollars. Then there was two or three thousand inhabitants,
say twenty-five hundred; we must be paid for
them too, and how much are they worth? I've read in
the newspapers that black slaves, at the south, sell for
three or four hundred dollars apiece. I should think,
then, that white ones ought to fetch eight hundred.
This, according to the rule of three, would be two hundred
thousand dollars. Then there's the pretty little
town of Madawaska that our Legislater made last winter,
already cut and dried with town officers all chosen,
and every thing ready for the British to use without any
more trouble. We ought to have pay for this too, and I
should think it was worth ten thousand dollars.

And then the town of Madawasca has chosen Mr
Lizote to be a representative in the Legislater, and as
the British can take him right into the Parliament without

choosing him over again, they ought to pay us for
that too. Now I have read in the newspapers that it
sometimes costs, in England, two hundred thousand dollars
to choose a representative to Parliament, reckoning
all the grog they drink and all the money they pay for
votes. But I wouldn't be screwing about it, so I put Mr
Lizote down at one hundred thousand dollars. And
then I footed up, and found it to be,—

         

For land, including timber, two millions of dollars,	$2,000,000
For inhabitants, including women and children, two hundred thousand dollars,	200,000
For the town of Madawaska, officers and all, ten thousand dollars,	10,000
For Mr Lizote, all ready to go to Parliament, one hundred thousand dollars,	100,000
Total,	$2,310,000

This was a pretty round sum, and I begun to think,
come to divide it out, it would be a slice a-piece worth
having; especially if we didn't give the Feds any of it,
and I supposed we shouldn't, as there wasn't any of 'em
there in the caucus to help see about it.

`In this view of the subject,' I almost made up my
mind that we ought to be patriotic enough to give it up,
and help the general government out of the hobble they
had got into. And I was jest a-going to get up and
make a speech and tell 'em so, when Mr McCrate of
Nobleborough, and Capt. Smith of Westbrook, two of
the best fellers in our party, came along and see what
I was figuring about, and, says they, Capt. Downing,
are you going to sell your country? In a minute I felt
something rise right up in my throat, that felt as big as
an ox-yoke. As soon as I got so I could speak, says I,
No, never, while my name is Jack Downing, or my old
rifle can carry a bullet. They declared too, that they
wouldn't sell out to the general government, nor the

British, nor nobody else. And we stuck it out most of
the evening, till we found out how it was going, and
then we cleared out, and as soon as the matter was fairly
settled, I started off for Madawaska; for I was afraid if
my company should hear of it before I got there, it
would make a blow up among 'em, and I should have to
court-martial 'em.

When I first told 'em how the jig was up with us,
that the British were going to have the land, without
any fighting about it, I never see fellows so mad before
in my life, unless it was Major Eaton at Washington
when he sot out to flog Mr Ingham. They said if they
could only have had one good battle, they wouldn't care
a snap about it, but to be played tom-fool with in this
way they wouldn't bear it. They were so mad, they
hopped right up and down, and declared they never
would go back till they had been over to Fredericton
and pulled the jail down, or thrashed some of the New
Brunswick boys. But, after a while, I pacified 'em by
telling 'em if we didn't get a chance to fight here, I
rather thought we might away off to Georgia, for there
was something of a bobbery kicking up, and if the President
should want troops to go on there, I was very sure
my company would be one of the first he would send for.

So here we are, lying upon our arms, not knowing
what to do. I have written to the President, and hope
to hear from him soon. If the land is to go, I want to
know it in season to get off before it's all over; for I'll
be hanged if ever I'll belong to the British.

LETTER XLVI.
Capt. Downing declines the office of Mayor of Portland.

When I arrived in this city, last night, from Madawaska,
jest after the hubbub was over about the election,
I was informed some of my friends in Ward No. 7, had
voted for me for Mayor. I believe the votes are put in
the papers long with the scattering votes, as I see they
dont publish my name.

Now the upshot ont is, I cant take that are office,
I've got so much other business to attend to. And so I
take this opportunity to declare that I absolutely decline
being a candidate. I have a great regard for the citizens
of Portland, for it was they that first gave me a boost
up towards an office, and I should be very glad to do
any thing for 'em that I could; but I must beg to be
excused from being Mayor this year.

LETTER XLVII.
In which Captain Downing relates a confidential conversation
with President Jackson while on a journey to Tennessee.

My dear old friend, — I have n't done any thing
this three months that seemed so natural as to set down
and write to you. To write the name of the Portland
Courier raises my sperits right up. It makes me feel as
if I was again talking with you, and uncle Joshua, and
cousin Ephraim, and cousin Nabby, and ant Sally, and
all of 'em. I and President Jackson got back here yesterday
from Tennessee, where we've been gone most all
summer. And a long journey we've had of it too. I
thought that from here to Portland was a dreadful ways,
but it's a great deal further to Tennessee. I did n't
think before that our country was half so large as I find
it is. It seems as if there was no end to it; for when
we got clear to Tennessee the President said we want
half way acrost it. I could n't hardly believe him, but
he stood tu it we want. Why, says he, Jack, I've got
the largest country in the world, and the hardest to govern
tu. Say what you will of free governments, where
folks will act pretty much as they are a mind to, it's the
hardest work to administer it that ever I did. I had
rather fight forty New Orleans battles than to govern
this everlasting great country one year. There are so
many, you see, want to have a finger in the pye, it's the
most difficult business you can imagine. You thought
you had a tough time of it, Jack, to take care of them
are small matters down to Madawaska last winter, with

your brave company of Downingville boys. But that's
no more than a drop in the bucket to being President
one month. I tell you, Jack, there is n't a monarch in
Europe who has so hard a time of it as I have. There
are so many cooks, the broth most always comes out
rather bad. If I have to write a message, one must put
in a sentence, and another a sentence, and another, till
it gets so at last I can't hardly tell whether I've written
any of it myself or not. And sometimes I have a good
mind to throw it all in the fire and say nothing at all.
But then again that wont do, for since I've undertaken
to be President, I must go through with it. And then
there was such a pulling and hauling for offices along in
the outset, it seemed as though they would pull me to
pieces. If I gave an office to one, Mr Ingham or Mr
Branch would be mad, and if I gave it to another Mr
Van Buren would n't like it, and if I gave it to another,
perhaps Mrs Eaton would make a plaguy fuss about it.
One wanted me to do this thing and another wanted me
to do that; and it was nothing but quarrel the whole
time. At last Mr Van Buren said he'd resign, if I would
turn the rest out. So I made a scattering among 'em
and turned 'em all out in a heap. All but Mr Lewis
and Mr Kendall who staid to give me their friendly
advice and help me through my trying difficulties.

And then again to be so slandered as I have been in
the papers, it is enough to wear the patience of Job out.
And if I got a little angry at the contrariness of the
Senate, they must needs call me a `roaring lion,' the
rascals. But that Senate did use me shamefully. The
very best nominations I made, they always rejected. To
think the stupid heads should reject Mr Van Buren, decidedly
the greatest man in the country, it was too provoking.
Yes, Mr Van Buren is the first man in this
country, and jest between you and me, Jack, he's the
only man in it that is well qualified to succeed me in the
government of this great nation of twenty-four republics.

And he must come in too, or the country wont be worth
a stiver, much longer. There's Clay, he would make
pretty work of it, if he should come in. Why, Jack, he
would gamble one half of the country away in two years,
and spend the other half in digging Canals and building
rail-roads; and when the funds in the Treasury failed
he would go to the United States Bank and get more.

Calhoun would break the Union to pieces in three
months if he was President. He's trying all he can
now to toar off something of a slice from it at the south.
And as for Wirt, he's a fiddling away with the Anti-masons.
Letting Anti-masonry alone, he's a pretty good sort of a
man; but he has n't energy enough to steer our crazy
ship of state in these stormy times. I would sooner
trust it in the hands of Mrs Eaton than him. There's
no one fit for it but Mr Van Buren; and if it was not
for getting him in I would n't have consented to stand
for another term.

But, my dear friend, by stopping to tell you some of
the conversation I and the President had along the road,
I have almost forgot to tell you any thing about myself
and the thousand things I met with on my journey. But
I can't write any more to-day. I expect to start from
here Monday on my way to Portland. You may hear
from me a few times before I get there, as I shall stop
along by the way some to see how matters go in Pennsylvany
and New York.

If you have a chance, send my love to all my folks
up at Downingville, and tell 'em old Jack is alive and
hearty.

LETTER XLVIII.
In which Capt. Downing runs an Express from Baltimore
to Washington, and foots it through Pennsylvany Avenue
to the President's house.

My dear old Friend. — Here I am back again to
Washington, though I've been as far as Baltimore on my
way down east to see you and the rest of my uncles and
aunts and couzins. And what do you think I posted
back to Washington for? I can tell you. When I got
to Baltimore I met an express coming on full chisel from
Philadelphia, to carry the news to Washington that
Pennsylvania had gone all hollow for old Hickory's
second election. The poor fellow that was carrying it
had got so out of breath, that he declared he couldn't go
no further if the President never heard of it.

Well, thinks I, it will be worth a journey back to
Washington, jest to see the old gineral's eyes strike fire
when he hears of it. So says I, I'll take it and carry it
on for you if you are a mind to. He kind of hesitated
at first, and was afraid I might play a trick upon him;
but when he found out my name was Jack Downing, he
jumped off his horse quick enough; I'll trust it with you,
says he, as quick as I would with the President himself.
So I jumped on and whipped up. And sure enough, as
true as you are alive, I did get to Washington before
dark, though I had but three hours to go it in, and its
nearly forty miles. It was the smartest horse that ever
I backed, except one that belongs to the President. But,
poor fellow, he's so done tu I guess he'll never run another
express. Jest before I got to Washington, say

about two miles from the city, the poor fellow keeled
up and could n't go another step. I had lost my hat on
the way and was too much in a hurry to pick it up, and
he had thrown me off twice and torn my coat pretty bad,
so that I did n't look very trig to go through the city or
go to the President's fine house. But notwithstanding,
I knew the President would overlook it, considerin the
business I was coming upon; so I catched the express
and pulled foot, right through Pennsylvany Avenue,
without any hat, and torn coat sleeves and coat tail flying.
The stage offered to carry me, but I thought I
wouldn't stop for it.

Almost the first person I met was Mr Duff Green.
Says he, Capt. Downing, what's the matter? I held up
the express and shook it at him, but never answered him
a word, and pulled on. He turned and walked as fast
as he could without running, and followed me. Pretty
soon I met Mr Gales of the Intelligencer, and says he,
for mercy sake, Captain Downing, what's the matter?
Have you been chased by a wolf, or Governor Houston,
or have you got news from Pennsylvania? I did n't turn
to the right nor left, but shook the express at him and
run like wild-fire.

When I came up to the President's house, the old
gentleman was standing in the door. He stepped quicker
than I ever see him before, and met me at the gate.
Says he, my dear friend Downing, what's the matter?
Has the United States Bank been trying to bribe you,
and you are trying to run away from 'em? They may
buy over Webster and Clay and such trash, but I knew
if they touched you they would get the wrong pig by the
ear. As he said this, Duff Green hove in sight, puffing
and blowing, full speed.

Oh, said the President, Duff Green wants to have a
lick at you, does he? Well dont retreat another step,
Mr Downing, I'll stand between you and harm. Upon
that he called his boy and told him to bring his pistols in

a moment. By this time I made out to get breath
enough jest to say Pennsylvany, and to shake the express
at him. The old man's color changed in a minute.
Says he, come in, Mr Downing, come in, set down, dont
say a word to Duff. So in we went, and shut the door.
Now, says the President, looking as though he would
route a regiment in five minutes, now speak and let me
know whether I am a dead man or alive.

Gineral, says, I, its all over with — I wont hear a
word of it, says he, stomping his foot. His eyes flashed
fire so that I trembled and almost fell backwards. But
I see he did n't understand me. Dear gineral, says I'
its all over with Clay and the Bank — at that he clapt
his hands and jumpt up like a boy. I never see the
President jump before, as much as I've been acquainted
with him. In less than a minute he looked entirely like
another man. His eyes were as calm and as bright as
the moon jest coming out from behind a black thunder
cloud.

He clenched my hand and gave it such a shake, I
did n't know but he would pull it off. Says he, Jack, I
knew Pennsylvany never would desert me, and if she has
gone for me I'm safe. And now if I dont make them are
Bank chaps hug it, my name is n't Andrew Jackson.
And after all, Jack, I aint so glad on my own account,
that I'm re-elected, as I am for the country and Mr Van
Buren. This election has all been on Mr Van Buren's
account; and we shall get him in now to be President
after me. And you know, Jack, that he's the only man
after me, that's fit to govern this country.

The President has made me promise to stop and
spend the night with him, and help him rejoice over the
victory. But I have n't time to write any more before
the mail goes.

LETTER XLIX.
In which Capt. Downing receives a Major's commission,
and is appointed to march against the Nullifiers.

My dear old Friend. — I believe the last time I
wrote to you, was when I come back with the express
from Baltimore, and Duff Green chased me so through
the street to find out what I was bringing, and the President
thought he was running to get a lick at me, and
called for his pistols to stand between me and harm, you
know. Well, I intended to turn right about again after
I had made the old gentleman's heart jump up by telling
him that he had got Pennsylvany and would be
elected as sure as eggs was bacon, and make the best of
my way towards Portland. For you cant think how I
long to see you and uncle Joshua and ant Kesiah and
cousin Ephraim and cousin Nabby and all the rest of
the dear souls up in Downingville. It seems as though
it was six years instead of six months since I left that
part of the country, and when I shall be able to get back
again is more than I can tell now; for I find when a
man once gets into public life he never can say his time
is his own; he must always stand ready to go where his
country calls. The long and the short of it is, the President
has got so many other fish for me to fry, it's no use
for me to think of going home yet. That evening after
I got back with the express, the President said we must
honor this victory in Pennsylvany with a glass of wine.
I am sure, said he, Capt. Downing, you will have no objection
to take a glass with me on this joyful occasion.

I told him as for that matter, I supposed I could take a
glass of wine upon a pinch, even if the occasion was not
half so joyful. So he had two or three bottles full brought
in, and filled up the glasses. And now, says the President,
I will give you a toast. The State of Pennsylvania, the
most patriotic State in the Union; for though I go
against all her great public interests, still she votes for
me by an overwhelming majority.

He then called for my toast. And what could I give
but my dear native Downingville; the most genuine unwavering
democratic republican town in New England.

Good, said the President; and that Downingville has
never been rewarded yet. You shall have a Post Office
established there, and name to me which of your
friends you would like should be Post Master, and he
shall be appointed.

The President then gave his second toast; Martin
Van Buren, the next President of the United States,
and the only man in the country that is fit for it. Capt.
Downing, your toast if you please. So I gave Uncle
Joshua Downing, the most thorough going republican in
Downingville.

Good, said the President, I understand you, Captain
Downing; your uncle Joshua shall have the Post Office.

His third toast was the editor of the Washington
Globe; and mine was the editor of the Portland Courier.
But I told him he mustn't ask me for any more
toasts, for that was as fur as I could go.

The President toasted several more of his friends,
sich as Major Eaton, and Mr Kendall, and Mr Lewis,
and the Hon. Isaac Hill, and so on, till it got to be pretty
late in the evening, and I told the President I would
be glad if he would excuse me, for I wanted to start early
in the morning on my way down east, and I thought I
should feel better if I could get a little nap first. And
besides I had got to go and get the old lady that used
to do my washing and mending, to patch up my coat

that got such a terrible shipwreck by being thrown off
the horse with the express.

Start down east to-morrow morning, Capt. Downing,
said he, you must not think of it. I have an important
and delicate job on hand which I cant get along with very
well without your assistance. There's that miserable
ambitious Calhoun has been trying this dozen years to be
President of the United States; but he can't make out,
so now he is determined to lop off a few of the southern
States and make himself President of them. But if he
don't find himself mistaken my name is n't Andrew
Jackson. As he said this he started up on his feet, and
begun to march across the floor with a very soldier-like
step, and his eyes fairly flashed fire. No, said he, Capt.
Downing, he must wait till somebody else is President
besides me before he can do that. Let him move an
inch by force in this business, if he dares. I'll chase
him as far beyond Tennessee as it is from here there,
but what I'll catch him and string him up by the neck
to the first tree I can find.

I must send some troops out there to South Carolina
to reconnoitre and keep matters strait, and your gallant
defence of Madawaska last winter points you out as the
most suitable man to take the command. — I shall give
you a Major's commission to-morrow, and wish you to
enlist two or three companies of brave volunteers and
hold yourself in readiness to obey orders. In case we
should have to come to a real brush, said the President,
I shall take command myself, and make you Lieutenant
General. But I wish you to bear in mind, let what will
come, never to shoot that Calhoun. Shooting is too
good for him. He must dance upon nothing with a rope
round his neck.

As for your coat, Capt. Downing, dont trouble the old
lady with it. It looks as though it had seen service
enough already. I'll give you one of mine to wear till
you have time to get a suit of regimentals made. I told

him I felt a little uneasy about taking the command
among strangers, unless I could have my Downingville
company with me. Send for them, said the President,
by all means, send for them. There are no troops equal
to them except it is some of the boys from Tennessee.
So I shall forthwith send orders to Sargeant Joel to
march 'em on here. As I am to have my commission
to-morrow, I shall venture to subscribe myself your friend,

LETTER L.
In which uncle Joshua tells what a tussle they had in Downingville
to keep the Federalists from praising the
President's Proclamation against the Nullifiers.

We got your last letter and the President's Proclamation
both together, though I see your letter was written
two days first. That Proclamation is a capital thing.
You know I 've made politics my study for forty years,
and I must say it 's the most ginuine republican thing I
ever come acrost. But what was most provoking about
it, was, all the old federalists in town undertook to praise
it tu. Squire Dudley, you know, was always a federalist,
and an Adams man tu. I met him the next day
after the Proclamation come, and he was chock full of
the matter. Says he, Mr. Downing, that Proclamation
is jest the thing. It 's the true constitutional doctrine.
We all support the President in this business through
thick and thin.

My dander began to rise, and I could not hold in any
longer. Says I, squire Dudley, shut up your clack, or
I 'll knock your clam-shells together pretty quick. It 's
got to be a pretty time of day indeed, if after we 've
worked so hard to get President Jackson in, you Federalists
are going to undertake to praise his proclamation
as much as though he was your own President. You 've
a right to grumble and fine fault with it as much as you
like; but dont let me hear you say another word in favor
of it, if you do I 'll make daylight shine through
you. The old man hauled in his horns and meeched off
looking shamed enough.

The next day we concluded to have a public meeting
to pass resolutions in favor of the Proclamation. I was
appointed chairman. The federal party all come flocking
round and wanted to come in and help praise the

President. We told 'em no; it was our President, and
our Proclamation, and they must keep their distance.
So we shut the doors and went on with our resolutions.
By and by the federal party begun to hurra for Jackson
outside the house. At that I told Sargent Joel and your
cousin Ephraim and two or three more of the young
democrats to go out and clear the coast of them are
fellers. And they went out and Sargent Joel drew his
piece of a scythe and went at 'em and the federalists
run like a flock of sheep with a dog after 'em. So we
finished our resolutions without getting a drop of federalism
mixed with 'em, and sent 'em on to the President
by Sargent Joel. He got his company together last
week and they filled their knapsacks with bread and
sasages and doe-nuts, and started for Washington according
to your orders.

I was glad to see that hint in your letter about a post
office here. We need one very much. And if the
President should think I ought to have it, being I 've
always been such a good friend to him, why you know,
Jack, I 'm always ready to serve my country.

LETTER LI.
In which Major Downing describes the arrival of Sargent
Joel with the Company at Washington.

Dear Cousin, — Sargent Joel got here day before
yesterday with my hearty old company of Downingville
boys, that went down to Madawaska with me last winter.
They cut rather a curious figure marching through Pensilvany
Avenu. One half of 'em had worn their shoes
out so that their toes stuck out like the heads of so many
young turtles, and t'other half had holes through their
knees or elbows, and Sargent Joel marched ahead of 'em
swinging his piece of an old scythe for a sword, and inquiring
of every one he met for Major Jack Downing.
They all told him to keep along till be got to the President's
house, which was the biggest house in the city except
the Congress house, and there he would find me.
I and the President were setting by the window in the
great east room, looking out and talking about Mr Calhoun
and so on, when the President begun to stare as
though he saw a catamount.

He started up on his feet, and says he, Major Downing,
if my eyes dont deceive me there 's Nullification now
coming up Pensilvany Avenu. He begun to call for his
pistols, and to tell his men to fasten up the doors, when
I looked out, and I knew Joel's strut in a minute. Says
I, dear Ginneral, that's no nullification, but its what 'll
put a stopper on nullification pretty quick if it once gets
to South Carolina. It 's my Downingville Company

commanded by Sargent Joel. At that the President
looked more pleased than I 've seen him before since he
got the news of the vote of Pensilvany. He ordered 'em
into the east room and gave 'em as much as they could
eat and drink of the best the house affords. He has
found quarters for 'em in the neighborhood, and says we
must be ready to march for South Carolina whenever he
says the word.

But I 'll tell you what 't is, cousin Ephraim, I begin
to grow a little kind of wamble-cropt about going to South
Carolina, arter all. If they 've got many such fellers
there as one Ginneral Blair there is here from that State,
I 'd sooner take my chance in the woods forty miles above
Downingville, fighting bears and wolves and catamounts,
than come within gun-shot of one of these Carolina giants.
He 's a whaler of a feller, as big as any two men in
Downingville. They say he weighs over three hundred
pounds. About a week ago he met Ginneral Duff Green
in the street and he fell afoul of him with a great club
and knocked him down, and broke his arm and beat him
almost to death, jest because he got mad at something
Mr Green said in his paper. And what makes me feel
more skittish about getting into the hands of such chaps,
is, because he says he could n't help it. He says all his
friends persuaded him not to meddle with Ginneral Green,
and he tried as hard as he could to let him alone, but he
`found himself unequal to the effort.' So Green like to
got killed.

The folks here sot out to carry him to court about it,
but he said he would n't go, and so he armed himself with
four pistols and two dirks and a great knife, and said
he 'd shoot the first man that touched him. Last night
he went to the Theatre with all his arms and coutrements
about him. And after he sot there a spell, and all the
folks were looking to see the play go on, he draws out
one of his pistols and fires it at the players. Then there
was a dreadful uproar. They told him he must clear

out about the quickest. But he said if they 'd let him
alone he 'd behave like a gentleman. So they went on
with the play again.

By and by he draws out another pistol and points it
towards the players. At that there was a whole parcel
of 'em seized him and dragged him out into another
room, big as he was. But pretty soon he got upon his
feet, and begun to rave like a mad ox. He pulled off his
coat and threw it down, and declared he 'd fight the
whole boodle of 'em. The constables were all so frightened
they cut and run, and nobody dared to go a near
him, till he got cooled down a little, when some of his
friends coaxed him away to a tavern. Now as for going
to South Carolina to fight such chaps as these, I 'd sooner
let nullification go to grass and eat mullen.

Sargent Joel told me when he left Downingville you
had jest got loaded up with apples and one thing another
to go down to Augusta to peddle 'em out; and that you
was a going to stay there while the Legislater folks were
there. So I thought it would be a good plan for you and
I to write to one another about once a week or so, how
matters get along.

Give my love to the folks up in Downingville whenever
you see 'em.

LETTER LII.
In which Major Downing gives his opinion about Nullification,
and illustrates it with a lucid example.

My kind and dear old Friend, — The President's
Message to Congress makes cracking work here. Mr
Calhoun shows his teeth like a lion. Mr McDuffie is
cool as a cowcumber, though they say he's got a terrible
tempest inside of him, that he'll let out before long. For
my part I think the President's Message is about right.
I was setting with the President in the east room last
night, chatting about one thing and another, and the
President says he, Major Downing, have you read my
message that I sent to Congress to day. I told him I
had n't. Well, says he, I should like to have you read
it and give me your opinion upon it. So he handed it
to me and I sot down and read it through.

And when I got through, now says I Gineral I'll tell
you jest what I think of this ere business. When I was
a youngster some of us Downingville boys used to go
down to Sebago Pond every spring and hire out a month
or two rafting logs across the Pond. And one time I
and cousin Ephraim, and Joel, and Bill Johnson, and
two or three more of us had each a whapping great log
to carry across the Pond. It was rather a windy day
and the waves kept the logs bobbing up and down pretty
considerable bad, so we agreed to bring 'em along side
and side and lash 'em together and drive some thole-pins
in the outermost logs and row 'em over together. We
went along two or three miles pretty well. But by and

by Bill Johnson begun to complain. He was always an
uneasy harumscarum sort of a chap. Always thought
every body else had an easier time than he had, and
when he was a boy, always used to be complaining that
the other boys had more butter on their bread than he
had. Well, Bill was rowing on the leward side, and he
begun to fret and said his side went the hardest, and
he would n't give us any peace till one of us changed
sides with him.

Well Bill had n't rowed but a little ways on the windward
side before he began to fret again, and declared
that side went harder than 'tother, and he wouldn't
touch to row on that side any longer. We told him he
had his choice, and he should n't keep changing so. But
he only freted the more and begun to get mad. At last
he declared if we did n't change with him in five minutes,
he'd cut the lashings and take his log and paddle off
alone. And before we had hardly time to turn round,
he declared the five minutes were out, and up hatchet
and cut the lashings, and away went Bill on his own log,
bobbing and rolling about, and dancing like a monkey to
try to keep on the upper side. The rest of us scrabbled
to as well as we could, and fastened our logs together
again, though we had a tuff match for it, the wind blew
so hard. Bill had n't gone but a little ways before his
log begun to role more and more, and by and by in he
went splash, head and ears. He came up puffing and
blowing, and got hold of the log and tried to climb up on
to it, but the more he tried the more the log rolled; and
finding it would be gone goose with him pretty soon if
he staid there, he begun to sing out like a loon for us to
come and take him. We asked him which side he would
row if we would take his log into the raft again. O,
says Bill, I'll row on either side or both sides if you
want me to, if you'll only come and help me before I
sink.

But, said the President, I hope you did n't help the

foolish rascal out till he got a pretty good soaking. He
got soaked enough before we got to him, says I, for he
was jest ready to sink for the last time, and our logs
come pesky near getting scattered, and if they had, we
should all gone to the bottom together. And now Gineral,
this is jest what I think: if you let South Carolina
cut the lashings you'll see such a log-rolling in this
country as you never see yet. The old Gineral started
up and marched across the floor like a boy. Says he,
Major Downing, she sha'nt cut the lashings while my
name is Andrew Jackson. Tell Sargent Joel to have
his company sleep on their arms every night. I told
him they should be ready at a moment's warning.

I wish you would jest give cousin Ephraim up to Augusta
a jog to know why he dont write to me and let me
know how the Legislater is getting along.

LETTER LIII.
In which cousin Ephraim tells the Major how matters get
along at Augusta, and gives a specimen of the value of
political promises.

To Major Jack Downing.

Dear cousin Jack, — I got your letter some time ago,
but I had n't time to answer it afore now, because I had
to go back up to Downingville to get another load of
apples. These Legislater folks cronch apples down by

the wholesale between speeches, and sometimes in the
middle of speeches tu. That arternoon that Mr Clark
spoke all day, I guess I sold nigh upon a half a bushel
for cash, and trusted out most three pecks besides. The
folks up to Downingville are all pretty well, only your
poor old mother; she 's got the reumatics pretty bad
this winter. She says she wishes with all her heart
Jack would come home, and not think of going to South
Carolina. Ever since she heard about Ginneral Blair
she cant hardly sleep nights, she 's so afraid you 'll get
shot. I tell her there 's no danger of you as long as you
have President Jackson one side of you and Sargent
Joel 'tother.

The Legislater is jogging along here pretty well; I
guess they 'll get through about the first of March, if
they dont have too many boundary questions come along.
We made some Major Ginnerals here 'tother day, and I
tried to get you elected. Not because I thought you
cared much about the office now, but jest for the honor
of Downingville. I tried most all the members, and
thought to be sure you would come in as slick as greese.
For about forty of 'em told me they thought it belonged
to you. They said it was against their principles to
pledge their votes to any body; but they whispered in
my ear that they would do what they could, and they had
n't scarcely a doubt but what you 'd be elected. Sixty-eight
of 'em told me you was the best man for it, and
would undoubtedly be chosen as a matter of course.
And twenty five of 'em promised me right up and down
by the crook of the elbow, that they would vote for
you.

Well Jack, after all this, you did n't get but two votes.
By that time I begun to think it was n't so strange that
it took you two years hard fishing before you could get
an office.

This is the most democratic Legislater that they have
ever had in this state yet. They are most all real ginuine

democrats, and they have give Mr Holmes and Mr
Sprague a terrible basting for being federalists, and they
have turned Mr Holmes out and put Mr Shepley in.

The Legislater is talking of moving the seat of government
back to Portland again. They say it will be
better all round. They wont have to go so fur through
the snow-drifts to their boarding houses, and wont have
to pay much more than half so much for their board.
And here they have to pay four pence apiece every time
they are shaved; but in Portland they can get shaved
by the half dozen for three cents apiece. I hope they
will go, for I can get more for my apples in Portland
than I can here.

P. S. Bill Johnson was married last week, and he
quarrelled with his wife the very next day. So you see
he is the same old sixpence he used to be. He says he
'll send a petition to the Legislater to be divorced, and
he declares if they don't grant it, he 'll cut the lashings
as he did once on the raft on Sebago Pond, sink or
swim.

N. B. Uncle Joshua wished me to ask you to ask the
President about that post office again, as his commission
has n't come yet.

LETTER LIV.
In which Major Downing goes up top the Congress house
and listens to see if he can hear the guns in South Carolina,
and also has a talk with the President, about the
slander of the newspapers.

[Note. The first of February, 1833, was the day appointed by
South Carolina for putting in force her nullifying Ordinance.]

My Dear Friend — This is nullification day, and it's
most night, and I aint dead yet, and hant been shot at
once to-day. I got up this morning as soon as it was
light, and went out and looked away towards South Carolina,
and listened as hard as I could to see if I could
hear the guns crackin and the cannons roarin. But it
was all still as a mouse. And I've been up top the Congress
house five or six times to-day, and listened and
listened, but all the firing I could hear was inside the
Congress house itself, where the members were shooting
their speeches at each other. I had my company all
ready this morning with their dinners in their napsacks,
to start as quick as we heard a single gun. We shant
go till we hear something from these nullifiers, for the
President says he aint agoing to begin the scrape, but if
the nullifiers begin it, then the hardest must fend off.

Yesterday a friend handed me a couple of papers
printed at Hallowell away down pretty near to Augusta
in the State of Maine, called the American Advocate,
and I found something in 'em that made me as mad as a
March hair. The first one mentioned that Capt. Dow
was chosen Mayor of Portland, and then said, he is the

reputed author of the Jack Downing letters that have
been published in the Portland Courier. The other paper
that was printed two or three days afterwards, said
Mr. Dow the new Mayor of Portland is not the author
of Jack Downing's letters; they are written by Mr Seba
Smith, the Editor of the Portland Courier. Now, Mr
Editor, my good old friend, is n't this too bad? I have
n't come acrost any thing that made me feel so wamble-cropt
this good while. Jest as if Major Jack Downing
could n't write his own letters.

I've been to school, put it altogether, off and on, more
than six months; and though I say it myself, I always
used to be called the best scholar among all the boys in
Downingville, and most always used to stand at the head
of my class. I'd been through Webster's spelling book
before I was fifteen, and before I was twenty I could
cypher to the rule of three. And now to have it said
that I dont write my own letters, is too bad. It's what
I call a rascally shame. I was so boiling over with it
last night, that I could'nt hold in; and so I took the papers
and went in and showed them to the President. I
always go to the President when I have any difficulty,
and when he has any he comes to me; so we help one
another along as well as we can. When the President
had read it, says he, Major Downing, it's strange to see
how this world is given to lying. The public papers are
beginning to slander you jest as they always do me. I
have n't written scarcely a public document since I've
been President, but what it's been laid off to Mr Van
Buren, or Mr McLane, or Mr Livingston, or Mr Taney,
or somebody or other. And how to help this slanderous
business I dont know. But it's too provoking, Major,
that's certain. Sometimes I've a good mind to make
Congress pass a law that every editor who says I dont
write my proclamations and messages, or that you dont
write your letters, shall forfeit his press and types; and
if that dont stop him, that he shall be strung up by the
neck without Judge or Jury.

And now, Mr Editor, I wish you would jest give that
Hallowell man a hint to mind his own p's and q's in future,
and look out for his neck. And as you know very
well that I do write my own letters, I would thank you
jest to tell the public so.

LETTER LV.
In which Cousin Ephraim explains the science of Land-speculation.

Dear Cousin Jack, — The Legislater folks have all
cleared out to-day one arter t'other jest like a flock of
sheep; and some of 'em have left me in the lurch tu, for
they cleared out without paying me for my apples.
Some of 'em went off in my debt as much as twenty
cents, and some ninepence, and a shilling, and so on.
They all kept telling me when they got paid off, they'd
settle up with me. And so I waited with patience till
they adjourned, and thought I was as sure of my money
as though it was in the Bank.

But, my patience, when they did adjourn, such a hubbub
I guess you never see. They were flying about
from one room to another, like so many pigeons shot in
the head. They run into Mr Harris' room and clawed
the money off of his table, hand over fist. I brustled up
to some of 'em, and tried to settle. I come to one man
that owed me twelve cents, and he had a ninepence in

change, but he wouldn't let me have that, because he
should lose a half cent. So, while we were bothering
about it, trying to get it changed, the first I knew the
rest of 'em had got their money in their pockets and
were off like a shot, some of 'em in stages, and some in
sleighs, and some footing it. I out and followed after
'em, but 'twas no use; I couldn't catch one of 'em.
And as for my money, and apples tu, I guess I shall
have to whistle for 'em now. Its pesky hard, for I owe
four and sixpence here yet for my board, and I've paid
away every cent I've got for my apples, and dont know
but I shall have to come down with another load to clear
out my expenses. Howsomever, you know uncle Joshua
always told us never to cry for spilt milk, so I mean to
hold my head up yet.

I dont know but I shall have to give up retailing apples,
I meet with so many head-flaws about it. I was
thinking that, soon as the Legislater adjourned, I'd take
a load of apples and apple-sass, and a few sassages, and
come on to Washington, and go long with your company
to South Carolina. But they say Mr Clay has put a
stopper on that nullification business, so that its ten
chances to one you wont have to go.

I dont care so much about the apple business after all;
for I've found out a way to get rich forty times as fast
as I can by retailing apples, or as you can by hunting
after an office. And I advise you to come right home,
as quick as you can come. Here's a business going on
here that you can get rich by, ten times as quick as you
can in any office, even if you should get to be President.
The President dont have but twenty-five thousand dollars
a year; but in this ere business that's going on here,
a man can make twenty-five thousand dollars in a week
if he's a mind to, and not work hard neither.

I spose by this time you begin to feel rather in a
pucker to know what this business is. I'll tell you: but
you must keep it to yourself, for if all them are

Washington folks and Congress folks should come on
here and go to dipping into it, I'm afraid they'd cut us all
out. But between you and me, its only jest buying and
selling land. Why, Jack, its forty times more profitable
than money digging, or any other business that you ever
see. I knew a man here t'other day from Bangor, that
made ten thousand dollars, and I guess he want more
than an hour about it. Most all the folks here and down
to Portland and Bangor have got their fortunes made,
and now we are beginning to take hold of it up in the
country.

They've got a slice up in Downingville, and I missed
it by being down here selling apples, or I should had a
finger in the pie. Uncle Joshua Downing, you know
he's an old fox, and always knows where to jump; well,
he see how every body was getting rich, so he went and
bought a piece of a township up back of Downingville,
and give his note for a thousand dollars for it. And
then he sold it to uncle Jacob and took his note for two
thousand dollars; and uncle Jacob sold it to uncle
Zackary and took his note for three thousand dollars;
and uncle Zackary sold it to uncle Jim, and took his
note for four thousand dollars; and uncle Jim sold it to
cousin Sam, and took his note for five thousand dollars;
and cousin Sam sold it to Bill Johnson, and took his
note for six thousand dollars. So you see there's five
of 'em that want worth ninepence apiece before, have
now got a thousand dollars apiece clear, when their
notes are paid. And Bill Johnson's going to logging off
of it, and they say he'll make more than any of 'em.

Come home, Jack, come home by all means, if you
want to get rich. Give up your commission, and think
no more about being President, or any thing else, but
come home and buy land before its all gone.

LETTER LVI.

Dear Cousin Ephraim, — I got your letter this morning.
It was a shame for them are Legislater folks to
skulk off without paying you for your apples. But they are
the worst folks about standing to their word that I know
of. They've promised me an office more than twenty
times, but some how or other, come to the case in hand,
their votes always went for somebody else. But I dont
care a fig for 'em as long as I've got the President on
my side, for his offices are as fat again as the Legislater
offices are. The President's offices will support a man
pretty well if he does n't do any thing at all. As soon
as Mr Clay's Tariff Bill passed, the President called
me into his room, and says he, Major Downing, the nullification
jig is up. There'll be no fun for you in South
Carolina now, and I guess you may as well let Sargent Joel
march the company back to Downingville, and wait till
somebody kicks up another bobbery some where and
then I'll send for 'em, for they are the likeliest company
I've seen since I went with my Tennesse rangers to

New Orleans. And as for you Major Downing, you
shall still hold your commission and be under half pay,
holding yourself in readiness to march at a moment's
warning and to fight whenever called for.

So you see, Cousin Ephraim, I am pretty well to live
in the world, without any of your land speculations or
apple selling down east. I cant seem to see how 'tis
they all make money so fast in that land business down
there that you tell about. How could all our folks and
Bill Johnson and all of 'em there in Downingville make a
thousand dollars apiece, jest a trading round among
themselves, when there aint fifty dollars in money, put
it all together, in the whole town. It rather puzzles me
a little. As soon as I see 'em all get their thousand dollars
cash in hand, I guess I'll give up my commission
and come home and buy some land tu.

But at present I think I rather have a bird in the hand
than one in the bush. Our Congress folks here cleared
out about the same time that your Legislater folks did,
and I and the President have been rather lonesome a few
days. The old gentleman says I must n't leave him on
any account; but I guess I shall start Joel and the company
off for Downingville in a day or two. They 've got
their clothes pretty much mended up, and they look
quite tidy. I should'nt feel ashamed to see 'em marched
through any city in the United States.

It is n't likely I shall have any thing to do under my
commission very soon. For some say there 'll be no
more fighting in the country while Mr Clay lives, if it
should be a thousand years. He's got a master knack
of pacifying folks and hushing up quarrels as you ever
see. He's stopt all that fuss in South Carolina, that you
know was jest ready to blow the whole country sky high.
He stept up to 'em in Congress and told 'em what sort
of a Bill to pass, and they passed it without hardly any
jaw about it. And South Carolina has hauled in her
horns, and they say she'll be as calm as a clock now.

And that is n't the only quarrel Mr Clay has stopt. Two
of the Senators, Mr Webster and Mr Poindexter, got as
mad as March hairs at each other. They called each
other some pesky hard names, and looked cross enough
for a week to bite a board nail off. Well, after Mr
Clay got through with South Carolina, he took them in
hand. He jest talked to 'em about five minutes, and
they got up and went and shook hands with each other,
and looked as loving as two brothers.

Then Mr Holmes got up and went to Mr Clay, and
almost with tears in his eyes asked him if he would n't
be so kind as to settle a little difficulty there was between
him and his constituents, so they might elect him to
come to Congress again. And I believe some of the
other Senators asked for the same favor.

So as there is likely to be peace now all round the
house for some time to come, I'm in a kind of a quandary
what course to steer this summer. The President
talks of taking a journey down east this summer, and he
wants me to go with him, because I'm acquainted there,
and can show him all about it. He has a great desire
to go as fur as Downingville, and get acquainted with
Uncle Joshua, who has always stuck by him in all
weathers through thick and thin. The President thinks
uncle Joshua is one of the republican pillars of New-England,
and says he shall always have the post office
as long as he lives, and his children after him.

I rather guess on the whole I shall come on that way
this summer with the President. But wherever I go, I
shall remain your loving cousin,

LETTER LVII.
In which Major Downing gives the result of a consultation
amongst the government on the question, whether the
President should shake hands with the Federalists during
his journey down East.

My Dear Old Friend, — Bein I hant writ to you
for some time, I'm afraid you and our folks up in Downingville
will begin to feel a little uneasy by and by, so
I'll jest write you a little if it aint but two lines, to let
you know how we get on here. I and the President
seem to enjoy ourselves pretty well together, though its
getting to be a little lonesome since the Congress folks
went off, and Sargeant Joel cleared out with my Downingville
Company. Poor souls, I wonder if they have
got home yet; I have n't heard a word from 'em since
they left here. I wish you would send up word to Sargeant
Joel to write to me and let me know how they got
along. He can send his letter in your Currier, or get
uncle Joshua to frank it; either way it wont cost me any
thing. Now I think of it, I wish you would jest ask
cousin Nabby to ask uncle Joshua to frank me on two
or three pair of stockings, for mine have got terribly out
at the heels. He can do it jest as well as not; they
make nothing here of franking a bushel basket full of great
books to the western States. And they say some of the
members of Congress used to frank their clothes home
by mail to be washed.

I and the President are getting ready to come on that
way this summer. We shall come as far as Portland,

and I expect we shall go up to Downingville; for the
President says he must shake hands with uncle Joshua
before he comes back, that faithful old republican who
has stood by him through thick and thin ever since he
found he was going to be elected President. He will
either go up to Downingville, or send for Uncle Joshua
to meet him at Portland.

There is some trouble amongst us here a little, to know
how we shall get along among the federalists when we
come that way. They say the federalists in Massachusetts
want to keep the President all to themselves when
he comes there. But Mr Van Buren says that 'll never
do; he must stick to the democratic party; he may
shake hands with a federalist once in a while if the democrats
dont see him, but whenever there's any democrats
round he mustn't look at a federalist. Mr McLane
and Mr Livingston advise him tother way. They
tell him he'd better treat the federalists pretty civil, and
shake hands with Mr Webster as quick as he would with
uncle Joshua Downing. And when they give this advice
Mr Lewis and Mr Kendle hop right up as mad as
march hairs, and tell him if he shakes hands with a single
federalist while he is gone, the democratic party will
be ruined. And then the President turns to me and
asks me what he had better do. And I tell him I guess
he better go straight ahead, and keep a stiff upper lip,
and shake hands with whoever he is a mind to.

Mr Van Buren staid with us awhile at the President's,
but he's moved into a house now on Pennsylvany Avenue.
He's a fine slick man I can tell you, and the
President says he's the greatest man in America. He's
got the beat'em-est tongue that ever I see. If you had
a black hat on, he could go to talking to you and in ten
minutes he could make you think it was white.

Give my love to our folks up in Downingville when
you have a chance to send it to 'em, and believe me
your old friend,

LETTER LVIII.
In which Major Downing defends the President from the
assault of Lieut. Randolph on board the Steam-boat
Cygnet.

My dear old Friend. — We've had a kind of a hurly
burly time here to-day. I did n't know but we should
burst the biler one spell; and some of us, as it was, got
scalding hot. You see, I and the President and a few
more gentlemen got into the steam-boat this morning to
go round into old Virginny to help lay the foundation of
a monument, so they should n't forget who Washington's
mother was.

When we got down along to Alexandria, the boat
hauled up to the side of the wharf awhile to let some
more folks get in, and while she lay there, I and the
President and a few more of 'em sot in the cabin reading
and chatting with one another. The President had
jest got through reading a letter from uncle Joshua
Downing, urging him very strongly to come up as fur as
Downingville when he comes on that way. And says
he, Major Downing, this uncle Joshua of yours is a real
true blue republican as I know of any where. I would
n't miss seeing him when I go down east for a whole
year's salary.

Says I, your honor, Downingville is the most thorough
going republican town there is any where in the eastern
country; and you ought not to come back till you have
visited it. Jest as I said that there was a stranger came
into the cabin and stept along up to the President, and

begun to pull off his glove. I thought there was some
mischief bruing, for his lips were kind of quivery, and I
did n't like the looks of his eyes a bit. But the President
thought he was trying to get his gloves off to shake
hands with him, and the good old man is always ready
to shake hands with a friend; so he reached out his hand
to him and smiled, and told him never to stand for the
gloves, and the words want hardly out of his mouth
when dab went one of the fellow's hands slap into the
President's face.

In a moment I levelled my umbrella at the villain's
head, and came pesky near fetching him to the floor.
Two more gentlemen then clenched him by the collar
and had him down as quick as ever you see a beef ox
knocked down with an ax. In a minute there was a
crowd round him as thick as a swarm of bees.

But, my stars, I wish you could have seen the President
jest at that minute. If you ever see a lion lying
down asleep and a man come along with a great club and
hit him a polt with all his might, and then see that lion
spring on his feet, and see the fire flash in his eyes, and
hear him roar and gnash his teeth, you might give some
sort of a guess what kind of a harrycane we had of it.

The old Gineral no sooner felt the fellow's paw in his
face than he sprung like a steel-trap, and catched his
cane and went at him. But there was such a crowd of
men there in an instant, that it as was much impossible to
get through 'em as it was for the British to get through
his pile of cotton wool bags at New-Orleans. If it had
n't been for that, I dont think but he would have kicked
the feller through the side of the steam-boat in two
minutes.

However, somehow or other the rascal got hussled out
of the boat on to the wharf, and fled like a dog that had
been stealing sheep. They have sent some officers after
him, but where they will overtake him nobody knows.

The President has got cleverly cooled down again,

and we are going on to lay the foundation of the monument.

My love to all the good folks up in Downingville.

LETTER LIX.
In which Major Downing shakes hands for the President
at Philadelphia, while on the grand tour down East.

Dear Uncle Joshua, — We are coming on full chisel.
I've been trying, ever since we started, to get a chance
to write a little to you; but when we've been on the
road I couldn't catch my breath hardly long enough to
write my name, we kept flying so fast; and when we
made any stop, there was such a jam round us there
wasn't elbow room enough for a miskeeter to turn round
without knocking his wings off.

I'm most afraid now we shall get to Downingville before
this letter does, so that we shall be likely to catch
you all in the suds before you think of it. But I understand
there is a fast mail goes on that way, and I mean
to send it by that, so I'm in hopes you'll get it time
enough to have the children's faces washed and their
heads combed, and the gals get on their clean gowns.
And if Sargent Joel could have time enough to call out
my old Downingville Company and get their uniform
brushed up a little, and come down the road as fur as
your new barn to meet us, there's nothing that would

please the President better. As for victuals, most any
thing wont come amiss; we are as hungry as bears after
travelling a hundred miles a day. A little fried pork
and eggs, or a pot of baked beans and an Indian pudding
would suit us much better than the soft stuff they
give us here in these great cities.

The President wouldn't miss of seeing you for any
thing in the world, and he will go to Downingville if he
has legs and arms enough left when he goes to Portland
to carry him there. But for fear any thing should happen
that he shouldn't be able to come, you had better
meet us in Portland, say about the 22d, and then you can
go up to Downingville with us, you know.

This travelling with the President is capital fun after
all, if it wasn't so plaguy tiresome. We come into Baltimore
on a Rail Road, and we flew over the ground
like a harrycane. There isn't a horse in this country
that could keep up with us, if he should go upon the
clean clip. When we got to Baltimore, the streets were
filled with folks as thick as the spruce trees down in
your swamp. There we found Black Hawk, a little,
old, dried up Indian king. — And I thought the folks
looked at him and the prophet about as much as they
did at me and the President. I gave the President a
wink that this Indian fellow was taking the shine off of
us a little, so we concluded we wouldn't have him in our
company any more, and shall go on without him.

I cant stop to tell you in this letter how we got along
to Philadelphy, though we had a pretty easy time some
of the way in the steam-boats. And I cant stop to tell
you of half of the fine things I have seen here. They
took us up into a great hall this morning as big as a
meeting-house, and then the folks begun to pour in by
thousands to shake hands with the President; federalists
and all, it made no difference. There was such a stream
of 'em coming in that the hall was full in a few minutes,
and it was so jammed up round the door that they

couldn't get out again if they were to die. So they had
to knock out some of the windows and go out t'other
way.

The President shook hands with all his might an hour
or two, till he got so tired he couldn't hardly stand it. I
took hold and shook for him once in awhile to help him
along, but at last he got so tired he had to lay down on
a soft bench covered with cloth and shake as well as he
could, and when he couldn't shake he'd nod to 'em as
they come along. And at last he got so beat out, he
couldn't only wrinkle his forward and wink. Then I
kind of stood behind him and reached my arm round
under his, and shook for him for about a half an hour as
tight as I could spring. Then we concluded it was best
to adjourn for to-day.

And I've made out to get away up into the garret in
the tavern long enough to write this letter. We shall be
off to-morrow or next day for York, and if I can possibly
get breathing time enough there, I shall write to you
again.

Give my love to all the folks in Downingville, and believe
me your loving neffu,

LETTER LX.

Dear Uncle Joshua, — Here we are amongst an
ocean of folks, and cutting up capers as high as a cat's

back. I spose you will see by the papers how we all
like to got drowned yesterday going across a little bridge
between the castle and the garden.

It was a pesky narrow squeak for me and the President.
He was riding over on a great fine hoss, and I
was walking along by the side of him and trying to
clear the way a little, for they crowded upon us so, there
was no getting along, and hardly a chance to breathe.
When we got under the arch we stopped a little bit for
the crowd to clear away, when all at once I thought I
heard something crack. Says I, Gineral, you better go
ahead, I'm afraid there's mischief bruing here. At that
he give his hoss a lick and pushed through the crowd,
but we had n't got more than a rod, before crash went
the bridge behind us, all down in a heap, and two toll-houses
on top of it and as many as a hundred folks
splashed into the water, all mixed up together one top
of 'tother. The President looked over his shoulder, and
seeing I was safe behind him, called out for Mr Van
Buren, and asked me to run and see if he was hurt. I
told him he had forgot himself, for Mr Van Buren was
n't in the company; but Mr Woodbury and Mr Cass
were in for it, for I could see them floundering about in
the water now. Run, Major, said the President, run and
give them a lift. Take Mr Woodbury first, you know I
can't spare him at any rate.

So there was a parcel of us took hold and went to
hauling of 'em out of the water like so many drownded
rats. But we got 'em all out alive, except a few young
things they called dandies; they looked so after they
got wet all over that we could n't make out whether they
were alive or dead. So we laid 'em up to dry and left
'em; and I went on to help the President review the
troops on the battery, as they call it; and a grand place
it is tu. I've seen more fine shows here, it seems to me,
than ever I see before in my life. Such a sight of folks,
and fine ladies, and fine houses, and vessels, and steam-boats,

and flags a flying, and cannons firing, and fire
works a whisking about, I never see the beat of it. I
didn't think there was so much fun in this world before,
for all I've been about so much at Madawaska and among
the nullifiers and all round.

But I cant tell you much about it till we get there, for
I cant find any time to write. I've only catched a few
minutes this evening while the President is gone into
Mr Niblo's garden. One of the master sights that I've
seen yet was that balloon that went up this afternoon,
carrying a man with it. Poor fellow, I dont much think
he'll ever get back again, for he looked to me the last I
see of him as though he would land in England, or the
moon, or some other country.

All these sights keep us back a little longer than we
expected. I dont think now we shall be in Portland before
the 28th or 29th of this month. So I thought I'd
jest write you a line that you might be down there about
that time.

LETTER LXI.
In which Major Downing describes the visit of the President
at Boston, and also complains of the rascally counterfeiters
that write letters in his name for the newspapers.

[Note by the Editor. It will be recollected that the President
while in Boston, was for a few days seriously ill.]

My Dear Old Friend, — I'm keeping house with
the President to day, and bein he's getting considerable

better, I thought I'd catch a chance when he was taking
a knap, and write a little to let you know how we get
along. This ere sickness of the President has been a
bad pull-back to us. He hasn't been able to go out
since Sunday afternoon, and I've been watchin with him
this two nights, and if I wasn't as tough as a halter, I
should be half dead by this time.

And if the President want tougher than a catamount,
he'd kick the bucket before he'd been round to see one
half the notions there is in Boston. Poor man, he has
a hard time of it; you've no idea how much he has to
go through. It's worse than being dragged through forty
knot holes.

To be bamboozled about from four o'clock in the
morning till midnight, rain or shine, jammed into one
great house to eat a breakfast, and into another great
house to eat a dinner, and into another to eat supper,
and into two or three others between meals, to eat cooliations,
and to have to go out and review three or four
rigiments of troops, and then to be jammed into Funnel
Hall two hours, and shake hands with three or four
thousand folks, and then to go into the State House and
stand there two or three hours and see all Boston streaming
through it like a river through a sawmill, and then
to ride about the city awhile in a fine painted covered
waggon with four or five horses to draw it, and then ride
awhile in one without any cover to it, finney-fined off to
the top notch, and then get on to the horses and ride
awhile a horseback, and then run into a great picture
room and see more fine pictures than you could shake a
stick at in a week, and then go into some grand gentleman's
house, and shake hands a half an hour with a
flock of ladies, and then after supper go and have a little
still kind of a hubbub all alone with three or four
hundred particular friends, and talk an hour or two, and
take another cooliation, and then go home, and about
midnight get ready to go to bed, and up again at four

o'clock the next morning and at it. — If this aint enough to
tucker a feller out I dont know what is. The President
wouldn't have stood it till this time if he hadn't sent me
and Mr Van Buren and the rest of us to some of the
parties, while he staid to home to rest.

The President's got so much better I think we shall
be able to start for Salem to-morrow, for we must go
through with it now we've begun, as hard work as 'tis.
I think we shall get to Portland about the 4th of July;
so if you get your guns and things all ready you can
kill two birds with one stone. I hope you'll be pretty
careful there how you point your guns. They pointed
'em so careless at New York that one of the wads come
within six inches of making daylight shine through the
President.

Now I think ont, there is the most rascally set of fellers
skulking about somewhere in this part of the country
that ever I heard of, and I wish you would blow 'em
up. They are worse than the pick-pockets. I mean
them are fellers that's got to writing letters and putting
my name to 'em, and sending of 'em to the printers.
And I heard there was one sassy feller last Saturday
down to Newburyport that got on to a horse, and rid
about town calling himself Major Jack Downing, and
all the soldiers and the folks marched up and shook
hands with him, and thought it was me. — Now, my dear
old friend, isn't this too bad? What would you do if
you was in my case? I say again they are worse than
the pick-pockets. Isn't it Mr Shakespeare that says
something about `he that steals my munny-pus steals
trash, but he that steals my name ought to have his head
broke?' I wish you would find that story and print it.

There, the President's jest waked up, so I must subscribe
myself, in haste,

LETTER LXII.
In which the President and the rest of 'em turn a short
Corner at Concord and set their faces towards Washington.

My Dear old Friend,—The jig is all up about our
going to Portland and Downingville. I've battled the
watch with the President this two days about it, and told
him he must go there if he had the breath of life in him;
and he kept telling me he certainly would if horses could
carry him there.

But the President is n't very well, and that aint the
worst of it; there 's been a little difficulty bruin among
us, and the President's got so riled about it, that he's
finally concluded to start on his way back to morrow.
I cant help it; but I feel bad enough about it. If I
wasn't a military man I could cry a barrel of tears.

I dont know how they will stan it in Downingville
when they come to get the news. I'm afraid there will
be a master uproar there, for you know they are all full-blooded
democrats.

But the stage is jest agoing to start, and I've only
time to write you this line, in haste from your friend,

LETTER LXIII.
In which cousin Nabby describes the unutterable disappointment
at Downingville because the President did n't
come, and tells what a terrible pucker ant Keziah was
in about it.

GREAT UPROAR IN DOWNINGVILLE.

Letter from Major Downing's Cousin Nabby to the editor of the
Portland Courier.

Respectable Sir: — As cousin Jack is always so
mity budge in writing letters to you, and as he and the
President has showed us a most provoking trick and
run off like a stream of chalk back to Washington without
coming here, after they had promised over and over
again that they would come, and we had got all slicked
up and our clean gownds on, and more good victuals
cooked, than there ever was in all Downingville before,
I say, Mr Editor, I declare it's tu bad; we are all as
mad as blazes about it, and I mean to write and tell you
all about it if I live, and if cousin Jack dont like it he
may lump it, so there now.

Ye see cousin Jack writ to us that he and the President
and some more gentlemen should be here the 4th
of July, and we must spring to it and brush up and see
how smart we could look and how many fine things we
could show to the President. This was a Saturday before
the 4th of July come a Thursday. The letter was
to Uncle Joshua, the Post Master. Most all the folks in
Downingville were at the Post Office waiting when the
mail come in, for we expected to hear from Jack.

Uncle Joshua put on his spettacles and opened the
mail and hauled out the papers and letters in a bunch.
In a minute I see one to Uncle Joshua with the President's
name on the outside; so I knew it was from Jack,

for the President always puts his name on Jack's letters.
We all cried out to Uncle Joshua to open it and
let us know what was in it. But he's such a provoking
odd old man he would n't touch it till he got every one
of the papers and letters sorted and put up in their
places. And then he took it and set down in his arm
chair, and took out his tobacker box and took a chaw
of tobacker, and then he broke open the seal and sot
and chawed and read to himself. We all stood tiptoe
with our hearts in our mouths, and he must needs read
it over to himself three times, chawing his old quid and
once in awhile giving us a knowing wink, before he
would tell us what was in it. — And he would n't tell
us arter all, but, says he, you must all be ready to put
the best side out Thursday morning; there'll be business
to attend to, such as Downingville never see before.

At that we all cut and run, and such a hubbub as we
were in from that time till Thursday morning I guess
you never see. Such a washing and scrubbing and
making new clothes and mending old ones and baking
and cooking. Every thing seemed to be in a clutter all
over the neighborhood. Sargent Joel flew round like a
ravin-distracted rooster. He called out his company
every morning before sun-rise and marched 'em up and
down the road three hours every day. He sent to the
store and got a whole new set of buttons and had 'em
sowed on to his regimental coat, and had a new piece of
red put round the collar. And had his trowses washed
and his boots greesed, and looked as though he might
take the shine off of most any thing. But the greatest
rumpus was at uncle Joshua's; for they said the President
must stay there all night. And ant Keziah was in
such a pucker to have every thing nice, I did n't know
but she would fly off the handle.

She had every part of the house washed from garret
to cellar, and the floors all sanded, and a bunch of green
bushes put into all the fire places. And she baked three

ovens full of dried punkin pies, besides a few dried
huckleberry pies, and cake, and a great pot of pork and
beans. But the worst trouble was to fix up the bed so
as to look nice; for ant Keziah declared the President
should have as good a night's lodging in her house as he
had in New York or Boston. So she put on two feather
beds on top the straw bed, and a bran new calico quilt
that she made the first summer after she was married
and never put it on a bed before. And to make it look as
nice as the New York beds, she took her red silk gown
and ripped it up and made a blanket to spread over the
top. And then she hung up some sheets all round the
bed-room, and the gals brought in a whole handful of
roses and pinks and pinned 'em up round as thick as flies
in August.

After we got things pretty much fixed, uncle Joshua
started off to meet cousin Jack and the President, and
left Sargent Joel to put matters to rights, and told us
we must all be ready and be paraded in the road by
nine o'clock Thursday morning. Well Thursday morning
come, and we all mustered as soon as it was daylight
and dressed up. The children were all washed
and had their clean aprons on and their heads combed
and were put under the care of the schoolmarm to be
paraded along with her scholers.

About eight o'clock all the village got together down
the road as fur as uncle Joshua's new barn; and Sargent
Joel told us how to stand, as he said, in militery
order. He placed Bill Johnson and cousin Ephraim
out a little ways in front with each of 'em a great long
fowling piece with a smart charge in to fire a salute, and
told 'em as soon as the President hove in sight to let
drive, only be careful and pint their guns up so as not
to hurt any body. Then come Sargent Joel and his
company; and then come the schoolmarm and the
children; and then come all the women and gals over
sixteen with ant Keziah at their head; and then come

all the men in town that owned horses riding on horseback;
and all the boys that Sargent Joel did n't think
was large enough to walk in the profession got up and
sot on the fences along by the side of the road.

There we stood till about nine o'clock, when sure
enough we saw somebody come riding out of the woods
down the hill. The boys all screamed ready to split
their throats hoorah for Jackson, and Bill Johnson fired
off his gun. Cousin Ephraim, who aint so easy fluttered,
held on to his and did n't fire, for he could n't
see any body but uncle Joshua on his old grey horse.
Along come uncle Joshua on a slow trot, and we looked
and looked, but could n't see any body coming behind
him.

Then they all begun to look at one another as wild as
hawks and turn all manner of colors. When uncle
Joshua got up so we could see him pretty plain he looked
as cross as a thunder cloud. He rid up to Sargent
Joel, and says he, you may all go home about your
business, and put away your knick-nacks, for Jack and
the President are half way to Washington by this time.

My stars! what a time there was then. I never see
so many folks boiling over mad before. Bill Johnson
threw his gun over into the field as much as ten rods;
and hopped up and down and struck his fists together
like all possessed. Sargent Joel marched back and
forth across the road two or three times, growing redder
and redder, till at last he drew out his sword and
fetched a blow across a hemlock stump and snapped it
off like a pipe stem. Ant Keziah fell down in a conniption
fit; and it was an hour before we could bring
her tu and get her into the house. — And when she come
to go round the house and see the victuals she had cooked
up, and go into the bed-room and see her gown all
cut up, she went into conniption fits again and had 'em
half the night. But she's better to day, and has gone to
work to try to patch up her gown again.

I thought I would jest let you know about these
things, and if you are a mind to send word on to cousin
Jack and the President, I'm willing. You may tell 'em
there aint five folks in Downingville that would hoorah
for Jackson now, and I dont believe there's one that
would vote for him unless 'tis uncle Joshua, and he
would n't if he was n't afraid of losing the post office.

But there, uncle Joshua has called to me and says he
wont keep the mail open another minute for my letter,
so I must prescribe myself your respected friend.

NOMINATION FOR THE PRESIDENCY.

From the National Intelligencer.

We do not know whether it be necessary, in copying
the subjoined effusion, to enter into a protest against
misinterpretation of our motives. We should be sorry
to be understood, whilst humoring a jest, as meaning
to burlesque so serious an action as the choice of President
of the United States. We copy the following for
the sake of its moral, as well as its wit, and we do not
like the moral the less for being taught with a smiling
countenance.

From the Mauch Chunk Courier.

Our next President.

Many of the papers in the United States have already
manifested a disposition to agitate the subject of the next
Presidency, and several distinguished individuals have
been informally named for that office, among whom are
Mr Van Buren, Mr M'Lean, Mr Cass, Mr Clay and Mr
Webster. As we are opposed to a premature discussion
of this ticklish question, we have not hitherto committed
ourself in favour of either of these individuals. Indeed,
we have considered it very imprudent in these times, for

any one who wishes to be an orthodox politician, to
“come out” for any body until he can ascertain who
will be most likely to succeed. Accordingly we have
stood upon our “reserved rights” of neutrality, to watch
the signs of the times, and see who would probably be
the most popular candidate. Recent indications have
satisfactorily convinced us on that point, and as we wish
to be considered among the “originals” — the real Simon
Pures, we would lose no time in nominating

For President,
MAJOR JACK DOWNING,
Of Downingville.

In recommending this distinguished personage to our
fellow citizens, it will be scarcely necessary to enumerate
his various claims to their suffrages. Suffice it to
say, his military renown, his valuable public services in
assisting President Jackson to put down the Nullifiers,
especially in shaking hands with the Yankees “down
east,” and last though not least, the fidelity with which
he and his uncle Joshua stuck to the Old Hero after he
found he was going to be President, eminently qualify
him for that exalted station.

LETTER LXIV.

My dear Friend. — We are driving back again full
chisel, as fast as we come on when we were on the Rail

Road between Washington and Baltimore. And we 've
been drivin so fast on a round turn in all the places
where we've been, and have had so much shaking hands
and eating and one thing another to do, that I could n't
get time to write to you at half the places where I wanted
to, so I thought I'd set down now, while the President's
laid down to rest him awhile, and tell you something
about Cambridge and Lowell. Ye see when we
were at Boston they sent word to us to come out to Cambridge,
for they wanted to make the President a Doctor
of Laws. What upon arth a Doctor of Laws was, or
why they wanted to make the President one, I could n't
think. So when we come to go up to bed I asked the
Gineral about it. And says I, Gineral, what is it they
want to do to you out to Cambridge? Says he they want
to make a Doctor of Laws of me. Well, says I, but
what good will that do? Why, says he, you know Major
Downing, there's a pesky many of them are laws passed
by Congress, that are rickety things. Some of 'em have
very poor constitutions, and some of 'em have n't no
constitutions at all. So that it is necessary to have
somebody there to Doctor 'em up a little, and not let
'em go out into the world where they would stan a
chance to catch cold and be sick, without they had good
constitutions to bear it. You know, says he, I have had
to doctor the Laws considerable ever since I've been at
Washington, although I was n't a regular bred Doctor.
And I made out so well about it, that these Cambridge
folks think I better be made into a regular Doctor at
once, and then there 'll be no grumbling and disputing
about my practice. Says he, Major, what do you think
of it? I told him I thought it was an excellent plan;
and asked him if he did n't think they would be willing,
bein I'd been round in the military business considerable
for a year or two past, to make me a Doctor of War.
He said he did n't know, but he thought it would be no
harm to try 'em. But says he, Major, I feel a little kind
of streaked about it after all; for they say they will go
to talking to me in Latin, and although I studied it a
little once, I dont know any more about it now than the
man in the moon. And how I can get along in that case
I dont know. I told him my way, when any body talked
to me in a lingo that I did'nt understand, was jest to say
nothing, but look as knowing as any of 'em, and then
they ginerally thought I knew a pesky sight more than
any of 'em. At that the Gineral fetched me a slap on
my shoulder, and haw hawed right out. Says he, Major
Downing, you are the boy for me; I dont know how I
should get along in this world if it was n't for you.

So when we got ready we went right to Cambridge as
bold as could be. And that are Cambridge is a real
pretty place; it seems to me I should like to live in them
Colleges as well as any place I've ssen. We went into
the Libry, and I guess I stared a little, for I did n't
think before there was half so many books in the world.
I should think there was near about enough to fill a
meetin house. I dont believe they was ever all read or
ever will be to all ages.

When we come to go in to be made Doctors of, there
was a terrible crowding round; but they give us a good
place, and then sure enough they did begin to talk in
Latin or some other gibberish; but whether they were
talking to the Gineral, or who 'twas, I could n't tell. I
guess the Gineral was a little puzzled. But he never
said a word, only once in a while bowed a little. And
I spose he happened sometimes to put in the bows in the
wrong place, for I could see some of the sassy students
look up one side once in a while, and snicker out of one
corner of their mouths. Howsomever the Gineral stood
it out like a hero, and got through very well. And when
'twas over, I stept up to Mr Quincy and asked him if he
would n't be so good as to make me a Doctor of War,
and hinted to him a little about my services down to
Madawasca and among the nullifiers. At that he made

me a very polite bow, and says he, Major Downing, we
should be very happy to oblige you if we could, but we
never give any degrees of war here; all our degrees are
degrees of peace. So I find I shall have to practise war
in the natural way, let nullification, or what will, come.
After 'twas all over we went to Mr Quincy's and had a
capital dinner. And on the whole had about as good a
visit to Cambridge as most any where.

I meant to a told you considerable about Lowell, but
the steamboat goes so fast, I shant have time to. We
went all over the Factories; and there! I wont try to
say one word about 'em, for I've been filled with such a
wonderment ever since, that my ideas are all as big as
hay stacks, and if I should try to get one of 'em out of
my head, it would tear it all to pieces. It beat all that
ever I heard of before, and the Gineral said it beat all
that ever he heard of. But what made the Gineral hold
his head up and feel more like a soldier, than he had
before since he was at New Orleans, was when we
marched along the street by them are five thousand gals,
all dressed up and looking as pretty as million of butterflies.
The Gineral marched along as light as a boy,
and seems to me I never see his eyes shine so bright
afore. After we got along about to the middle of 'em,
he whispered to me, and says he, Major Downing, is
your Cousin Nabby here among 'em; if she is, I must
be introduced to her. I told him she was not; as they
were expecting us to come to Downingville, she staid
to home to help get ready. Well, says he, if any thing
should happen that we can't go to Downingville, you
must send for your Cousin Nabby and Uncle Joshua to
come on to Washington to see me. I will bear all the
expenses, if they will only come, says he; these northern
gals are as much afore our southern and western
gals as can be, and I've thought of your Cousin Nabby
a great deal lately — he looked as though he was going
to say something more, but Mr Van Buren and the rest

of 'em crowded along up so near that it broke it off, and
we had to go along.

I see we've got most to York, and shall have to go ashore
in a few minutes, so I can't write any more now, but
remain vour sincere and loving friend,

LETTER LXV.
In which Major Downing tells about the quarrel that he and
Mr Van Buren had at Concord after they went up chamber
to bed; and also declares his intention to run for the
Presidency.

My dear old Friend, you. — I dont know but you
might think strange on 't, that I should be back here to
Washington more than a fortnight, and not write to you.
But I hant forgot you. You need n't never be afraid of
that. We aint very apt to forget our best friends; and
you may depend upon it Jack Downing will never forget
the editor of the Portland Courier any more than Andrew
Jackson will forget Jack Downing. You was the first
person that ever give me a lift into public life, and you
've been a boosting me along ever since. And jest between
you and me I think I 'm getting into a way now
where I shall be able by and by to do something to pay you
for it. The reason that I have n't writ to you before, is,
that we have had pretty serious business to attend to since
we got back. But we 've jest got through with it, and
Mr Van Buren has cleared out and gone back about the
quickest to New York, and I guess with a bed-bug in his

ear. Now jest between you and me in confidence, I 'll
tell you how 't is; but pray dont let on about it to any
body else for the world. Did n't you think plaguy
strange what made us cut back so quick from Concord
without going to Portland or Portsmouth or Downingville?
You know the papers have said it was because
the President want very well, and the President had to
make that excuse himself in some of his letters; but it
was no such thing. The President could a marched on
foot twenty miles a day then, and only let him been at
the head of my Downingville company and he 'd a
made a whole British regiment scamper like a flock of
sheep.

But you see the trouble ont was, there was some difficulty
between I and Mr Van Buren. Some how or other
Mr Van Buren always looked kind of jealous at me all
the time after he met us at New York; and I could n't
help minding every time the folks hollered `hoorah for
Major Downing' he would turn as red as a blaze of fire.

And wherever we stopped to take a bite or to have a
chat, he would always work it, if he could, somehow or
other so as to crowd in between me and the President.
Well, ye see, I wouldn't mind much about it, but would
jest step round 'tother side. And though I say it myself,
the folks would look at me, let me be on which side
I would; and after they'd cried hoorah for the President,
they'd most always sing out `hoorah for Major Downing.'
Mr Van Buren kept growing more and more fidgety
till we got to Concord. And there we had a room
full of sturdy old democrats of New Hampshire, and
after they had all flocked round the old President and
shook hands with him, he happened to introduce me to
some of 'em before he did Mr Van Buren. At that the
fat was all in the fire. Mr Van Buren wheeled about
and marched out of the room looking as though he could
bite a board nail off. The President had to send for
him three times before he could get him back into the

room again. And when he did come, he didn't speak
to me for the whole evening. However we kept it from
the company pretty much; but when we come to go up
to bed that night, we had a real quarrel. It was nothing
but jaw, jaw, the whole night. Mr Woodbury and
Mr Cass tried to pacify us all they could, but it was all
in vain, we didn't one of us get a wink of sleep, and
shouldn't if the night had lasted a fortnight. Mr Van
Buren said the President had dishonored the country by
placing a military Major on half pay before the second
officer of the government. The President begged him
to consider that I was a very particular friend of his;
that I had been a great help to him at both ends of the
country; that I had kept the British out of Madawaska
away down in Maine, and had marched my company
clear from Downingville to Washington, on my way to
South Carolina, to put down the nullifiers; and he
thought I was entitled to as much respect as any man
in the country.

This nettled Mr Van Buren peskily. — He said he
thought it was a fine time of day if a raw jockey from
an obscure village away down east, jest because he had
a Major's commission, was going to throw the Vice
President of the United States and the heads of Departments
into the back ground. At this my dander began
to rise, and I stepped right up to him; and says I, Mr
Van Buren, you are the last man that ought to call me
a jockey. And if you'll go to Downingville and stand
up before my company with Sarjeant Joel at their head,
and call Downingville an obscure village, I'll let you use
my head for a foot-ball as long as you live afterwards.
For if they wouldn't blow you into ten thousand atoms,
I'll never guess again. We got so high at last that the
old President hopt off the bed like a boy; for he had
laid down to rest him, bein it was near daylight, though
he couldn't get to sleep. And says he, Mr Donaldson,
set down and write Mr Anderson at Portland, and my

friend Joshua Downing at Downingville, that I can't
come. I'm going to start for Washington this morning.
What, says Mr Cass, and not go to Portsmouth and Exeter
and round there! I tell you, says the President,
I'm going to start for Washington this morning, and in
three days I'll be there. What, says Mr Woodbury,
and not go to Portland, where they have spent so much
money to get ready for us! I tell you, says the President,
my foot is down: I go not a step further, but turn
about this morning for Washington. What, says I, and
not go to Downingville, what will Uncle Joshua say?
At this the President looked a little hurt; and says he,
Major Downing, I can't help it. As for going any further
with such a din as this about my ears, I cannot,
and will not, and I am resolved not to budge another
inch. And sure enough the President was as good as
his word, and we were all packed up by sunrise, and in
three days we were in Washington.

And here we've been ever since, battling the watch
about the next Presidency. Mr Van Buren says the
President promised it to him, and now he charges me
and the President with a plot to work myself into it and
leave him out. It's true I've been nominated in a good
many papers, in the National Intelligencer, and in the
Munch Chunk Courier printed away off among the coal
diggers in Pennsylvany, and a good many more. And
them are Pennsylvany chaps are real pealers for electing
folks when they take hold; and that's what makes
Mr Van Buren so uneasy. The President tells him as
he has promised to help him, he shall do what he can
for him; but if the folks will vote for me he can't help
it. Mr Van Buren wanted I should come out in the
National Intelligencer and resign, and so be put up for
Vice President under him. But I told him no; bein it
had gone so fur I wouldn't do nothing about it. I hadn't
asked for the office, and if the folks had a mind to give
it to me I wouldn't refuse it. So after we had battled

it about a fortnight, Mr Van Buren found it was no use
to try to dicker with me, and he's cleared out and gone
to New York to see what he can do there.

I never thought of getting in to be President so soon,
though I've had a kind of hankering for it this two years.
But now, seeing it's turned out as it has, I'm determined
to make a bold push, and if I can get in by the free
votes of the people, I mean to. The President says he
rather I should have it than any body else, and if he
hadn't promised Mr Van Buren beforehand, he would
use his influence for me.

I remember when I was a boy about a dozen years
old, there was an old woman come to our house to tell
fortunes. And after she'd told the rest of 'em, father
says he, here's Jack, you haven't told his fortune yet,
and I dont spose it's worth a telling, for he's a real
mutton-headed boy. At that the old woman catched
hold of my hair, and pulled my head back and looked
into my face, and I never shall forget how she looked
right through me, as long as I live. At last, says she,
and she gin me a shove that sent me almost through the
side of the house, Jack will beat the whole of you. He
'll be a famous climber in his day, and wherever he sets
out to climb, you may depend upon it, he will go to the
top of the ladder. Now, putting all these things together,
and the nominations in the papers, and the
`hoorahs for Major Downing,' I dont know what it
means, unless it means that I must be President. So,
as I said afore, I'm determined to make a bold push.
I've writ to Col. Crocket to see if I can get the support
of the western States, and his reply is, `go ahead.' I
shall depend upon you and uncle Joshua to carry the
State of Maine for me; and, in order to secure the other
States, I spose it will be necessary to publish my life and
writings. President Jackson had his life published before
he was elected, and when Mr Clay was a candidate
he had hisn published. I've talked with the President

about it, and he says, publish it by all means, and set
the printer of the Portland Courier right about it.

So I want you to go to work as soon as you get this,
and pick up my letters, and begin to print 'em in a book;
and I'll set down and write a history of my life to put
into it, and send it along as fast as I can get it done.
But I want you to be very careful not to get any of them
are confounded counterfiet letters, that the rascally fellers
have been sending to the printers, mixed in long
with mine. It would be as bad as breaking a rotten egg
in long with the good ones; it would spile the whole
pudding. You can tell all my letters, for they were
all sent to you first.

The President says I must have a picter of me made
and put into the book. — He says he had one put into
his, and Mr Clay had one put into his. So I believe I
shall write to Mr Thatcher that prints the little Journal
paper in Boston, and get him to go to some of the best
picter-makers there, and get them to do me up some
as slick as they can. These things, you know, will all
help get the free votes of the people; and that's all I
want. For I tell you now, right up and down, I never
will take any office that doesn't come by the free votes
of the people. I'm a genuine democratic republican,
and always was, and so was my father before me, and
uncle Joshua besides.

There's a few more things that I want to speak to you
about in this letter, but I'm afraid it will get to be too
lengthy. That are story that they got in the newspapers
about my being married in Philadelphy is all a hoax. I
aint married yet, nor I shant be till a little blue-eyed gal,
that used to run about with me, and go to school and
slide down hill in Downingville is the wife of President
Downing. And that are other story, that the President
give me a Curnel's commission jest before we started
down east, isn't exactly true. The President did offer
me one, but I thanked him, and told him if he would

excuse me, I should rather not take it, for I had always
noticed that Majors were more apt to rise in the world
than Curnels.

I wish you would take a little pains to send up to
Downingville and get uncle Joshua to call a public
meeting, and have me nominated there. I'm so well
known there, it would have a great effect in other places.
And I want to have it particularly understood, and so
stated in their resolutions, that I am the genuine democratic
republican candidate. I know you will put your
shoulder to the wheel in this business and do all you can
for me, for you was always a good friend to me, and,
jest between you and me, when I get in to be President
you may depend upon it you shall have as good an office
as you want.

But I see it's time for me to end this letter. The
President is quite comfortable, and sends his respects to
you and uncle Joshua. I remain your sincere friend.

LETTER LXVI.

Dear Cousin Jack. — I've got something pretty
heavy on my mind that I want to tell ye about, and ask
your advice, and may be I shall want you to lend me a
hand a little. I've been watching politics pretty snug ever
since I was a little boy, and that's near about forty years;

and I believe I know most as much about it as uncle
Joshua, although he's twenty years older than I be. Now
about this republicanism and federalism, I've minded
that it always keeps changing, and always has, ever
since I can remember. And I've minded tu it most always
keeps going round one way; that is, the young
federalists keep turning dimocrats, and the old dimocrats
keep turning federalists. What it's for I dont exactly
know, but that's the way it goes. I spose a man, on the
whole, is n't hardly fit to be a dimocrat after he gets to
be fifty years old. And here is old uncle Joshua in the
Post Office, he's got to be about sixty, and he's hanging
on to the dimocratic side yet, like the tooth-ache; and
it begins to worry me a good deal. I think it's high
time he went over. You know Downingville has always
been a genuine republican town, and I want it should
always go according to the usages [I think that's what
they call it] of the dimocratic party.

When it gets to be time for an old dimocrat to go over
on the federal side, I believe the Argus always puts 'em
over. You remember there was old Mr Insley in Portland,
and old Gineral Wingate in Bath, as much as a
dozen years ago, were some as big republicans as there
was any where about. Well, they got to be considerable
old, and had been in office sometime, so the Argus took
and clapt 'em right over on to the federal side. And
you know there was Mr Holmes, he was a whapping
great republican. But he begun to grow old, and so the
Argus put him over. And there was Mr Sprague; he
was such a nice dimocrat every one said it was a pitty
to put him over. But bein he'd been to Congress sometime,
the Argus would n't hear a word, but shoved him
right over.

And this summer the Argus is putting of 'em over considerable
younger on to the federal side. It has put
Judge Preble over, and Judge Ware, and Mr Mitchell,
the Post Master at Portland, and he isn't near so old as

uncle Joshua, and it has put Mr Megquier over, only
think, such a young man as Mr Megquier, that's only
been in the Sinnet three or four years. Now dont you
think, according to dimocratic usage, it is high time old
uncle Joshua was put over? I wish you would jest write
to the Argus and have it done, for I feel a good deal
worried about it.

And as soon as it comes out in the Argus that he is
fairly over, I want you to tell the President that uncle
Joshua is a federalist, and have him removed from the
Post Office, for it would be an everlasting shame to have
the Post Office in Downingville kept by a federalist.

N. B. If uncle Joshua should be removed I wish you
would use your influence to get the President to give the
office to me; for next to Uncle Joshua I spose I've done
more for the republican party than any man in Downingville.
I can have a recommendation from Sargent
Joel and all the company. By attending to this you
will much oblige your friend and cousin,

LETTER LXVII.
In which the President begun to say something about ME
and Daniel.

My dear old Friend, — Its got to be a pretty considerable
long while now since I've writ to you, for I
never like to write, you know, without I have something
to say. — But I've got something on my mind now, that

keeps me all the time a thinking so much that I cant
hold in any longer. So jest between you and me I'll
tell you what 'tis. But I must begin a little ways beforehead,
so you can see both sides of it, and I'll tell
you what 'tis as soon as I get along to it.

You see I and the President has been down to the
Rip Raps a few weeks to try to recruit up a little; for
that pesky tower away down East like to did the job for
the old Gineral. So, after we got things pretty much
to rights here, we jest stepped aboard the steamboat and
went down to the Rip Raps. That are Rip Raps is a
capital place; it is worth all the money we ever paid for
it, if it was for nothing else only jest to recruit up the
Government. It is one of the most coolest places in the
summer time that you ever see. Let a feller be all worn
out and wilted down as limpsy as a rag, so that the doctors
would think he was jest ready to fly off the handle,
and let him go down to the Rip Raps and stay there a
fortnight, and he'd come up again as smart as a steel-trap.
The President got recruited up so nicely, while
we were down to the Rip Raps, that ever since we got
back till two or three days ago, he has been as good-natured
and sociable as ever I should wish to see a body.
And now I'm coming, pretty soon, to what I was going
to tell you about, that bears so heavy on my mind.

You see the President likes, every morning after the
breakfast is out of the way, to set down and read over
the newspapers, and see what is going on in the country,
and who's elected and so on. So when we've done
breakfast, we take the letters and papers that come
from the Post-Office, and go away by ourselves into the
great East Room where we can say jest what we've
a mind to, and nobody not hear us, and the President
sets down in his great arm rocking-chair and smokes his
segar, and I set down by the table and read to him.
Last Monday morning, as I was reading over the papers
one arter another, I come to a Pennsylvany paper and

opened it, and, says I, hullow, gineral, here's a speech
of Mr Webster at Pittsburg, as large as life. Ah, said
he; well, let us hear what Daniel has been talking to
them are Pennsylvany and Ohio chaps about. So I
hitched back in my chair, and read on. And by and by
I begun to get into the marrow of the story, where he
told all about Nullification, and what a dark time we had
of it last winter, and how the black clouds begun to rise
and spread over the country, and the thunders of civil
war begun to roll and rumble away off to the South, and
by and by how the tempest was jest ready to burst over
our heards and split the country all into shivers, and
how, in the very nick of time, the President's Proclamation
came out and spread over the whole country like a
rain-bow, and how every body then took courage and
said the danger was all over. While I had been reading
this, the President had started up on his feet, and walked
back and forth across the room pretty quick, puffing
away and making the smoke roll out of his mouth like a
house a fire; and by the time I had got through, he had
thrown his segar out of the window, and come and sot
down, leaning his elbow on the table and looking right
in my face. I laid the paper down, and there he sot
looking right at me as much as five minutes, and never
said a word; but he seemed to keep a thinking as fast
as a horse could run. At last, said he, Major Downing,
were you ever told that you resembled Daniel Webster?

Why, Gineral, says I, how do you mean, in looks or
what?

Why perhaps a little of both says he, but mostly in
looks.

Bless my stars, says I, Gineral, you dont mean to say
that I am quite so dark as he is.

Perhaps not, says he; but you have that sharp knowing
look, as though you could see right through a millstone.
I know, says he, that Mr Webster is rather a
dark looking man, but there is n't another man in this

country that can throw so much light on a dark subject
as he can.

Why yes, says I, he has a remarkable faculty for that;
he can see through most any thing, and he can make
other folks see through it too. I guess, says I, if he 'd
been born in old Virginny he 'd stood next to most any
body.

A leetle afore 'em, says the Gineral, in my way of
thinking. I'll tell you what 't is Major, I begin to think
your New Englanders aint the worst sort of fellows in
the world after all.

Ah well says I, seeing is believing, and you 've been
down that way now and can judge for yourself. But if
you had only gone as fur as Downingville I guess you
would have thought still better of 'em than you do now.
Other folks may talk larger and bluster more, says I, but
whenever you are in trouble, and want the real support
in time of need, go to New England for it and you never
need to be afraid but what it will come.

I believe you are right, says the Gineral; for notwithstanding
all I could do with my proclamation against
nullification, I believe I should have rubbed hard if there
had been no such men in the country as Major Downing
and Daniel Webster.

But this nullification business is n't killed yet. The
tops are beat down, but the roots are alive as ever, and
spreading under ground wider and wider, and one of
these days when they begin to sprout up again there 'll
be a tougher scrabble to keep 'em down than there has
been yet; and I 've been thinking, says he, and he laid
his hand on my shoulder and looked very anxious, I 've
been thinking says he, if you and Daniel — and here
the door opened and in cometh Amos Kendil with a long
letter from Mr Van Buren about the Bank and the safety
fund and the Government deposites and I dont know
what all; and the President's brow was clouded in a
minute; for he always feels kind of pettish when they

plague him about the safety fund. I have n't had any
chance to talk with him since, there 's so many of 'em
round him; and I 'm as uneasy as a fish out of water, I
feel so anxious to know what the President was going to
say about me and Daniel. I shall watch the first chance
when I think it will do to talk with him, and find out what
he was going to say. I cant hardly sleep a nights, I think
so much about it. When I find out I 'll write to you
again.

Send my love to the folks up in Downingville when
you have a chance.

LETTER LXVIII.

My Dear Friend, — Havn't you been in a terrible
kind of a pucker ever since my last letter to you, to
know what the President was going to say about me
and Daniel? If you havn't, I have. I never felt so uneasy
for a fortnight hardly in my life. If I went to bed
I couldn't sleep, and I've got up and walked the floor
as much as half the night almost every night since. —
I've wished the Bank to Guinea more than fifty times,
for there's been such a hubbub here about the Bank
this fortnight past, that I couldn't get a moment's chance
to talk with the President about any thing else. We'd
have cabinet meetings once in awhile to see about moving

the deposites, and Mr Duane and Mr Cass and Mr
McLane would talk up to the President so about it, that
he'd conclude to let 'em alone and do nothing about it,
and let Congress manage it jest as they'd amind to.
And then we'd go home and Mr Kendle would come in
and talk the matter over, and read some great long letters
from Mr Van Buren, and get the President so confused
that he would lose all patience a most.

But Mr Kendle is the master feller to hang on that
ever I see; he's equal to the tooth ache. And he talked
and palavered with the President till he finally
brought him over, and then the President put his foot
down, and said the deposites should be moved whether
or no. And then the botheration was to see who should
move 'em. The President told Mr Duane to do it; but
he said his conscience wouldn't let him. Then the
President told Mr Taney to take Mr Duane's place, and
see if his conscience would let him. Mr Taney tried it
and found his conscience went easy enough, so Mr Duane
packed up and went home to Philadelphy. We
were all dreadful sorry to lose Mr Duane, for he was a
nice man as you will see one in a thousand. It's a pity
he had such a stiff conscience; he might have staid here
in the Treasury jest as well as not, if it hadn't been for
that.

But this storm about the Bank begins to blow over,
and the President's got in a manner cooled down again.
This morning after breakfast we took the papers and
letters jest as we used to, and went away into the east
room to read the news and chat awhile; and it really
did my heart good to see the President set down once
more looking so good natured in his great arm chair
smoking his segar. After I had read over the news to
him awhile, and got him in pretty good humour, I made
bold to out with it, and says I Gineral, there's one question
I want to ask you. — And says he, you know Major,
I always allow you to ask me any thing you're a mind

to, what is it? Well says I, when we had that talk here
about a fortnight ago, you begun to say something about
me and Daniel; and jest as you got into the middle of
it, Mr Kendle came in and broke it right off short as a
pipe stem. It's been running in my head ever since,
and I've been half crazy to know what it was you was
going to say. Well, let us see, says the Gineral, where
was it I left off; for this everlasting fuss about the Bank
has kept my head so full I can't seem to remember much
about it.

Why says I, you was talking about nullification; how
the tops were beat down a little, but the roots were all
running about under ground as live as ever, and it
would n't be long before they'd be sprouting up again all
over the country, and there'd be a tougher scrabble to
keep 'em down than ever there had been yet; and then
you said if I and Daniel — and there that plaguy
Kendle came in, I've no patience with him now when I
think of it, and broke it right off. Ah, now I remember,
says the Gineral, how twas. Well, says he, Major
Downing, it is a solemn fact, this country is to see a
blacker storm of nullification before many years comes
about than ever it has seen yet; the clouds are beginning
to gather now; I've seen 'em rolling over South
Carolina, and hanging about Georgia, and edging along
into old Virginny, and I see the storm's a gathering; it
must come, and if there is n't somebody at the helm that
knows how to steer pretty well, the old ship must go
down. I aint afraid, says he, but what I can keep her
up while I have the command, but I'm getting to be old
and must give up soon, and then what'll become of her I
dont know. But what I was going to say was this; I've
been thinking if you and Daniel, after I give up, would
put your heads together and take charge of her till the
storm has blown over, you might save her. And I dont
know who else can.

But how do you mean, Gineral, says I? Why to speak

plain, says he, if nullification shows its head, Daniel
must talk and you must fight. There's nothing else will
do the job for it that I know of. Daniel must go into
the Presidential chair, and you must take command of
the army, and then things will go straight. At this I
was a little struck up; and I looked him right in the
eye, and, says I, Gineral, do you mean that Daniel
Webster ought to be President after you give up? Certainly,
says he, if you want to keep the country out of
the jaws of nullification. But, says I, Gineral, Daniel
is a federalist, a Hartford Convention federalist, and I
should like to know which is worst, the jaws of nullification,
or the jaws of federalism. The jaws of a fiddle-stick!
said the President, starting up and throwing
his segar out of the window as much as two rods; but
how do you know, Major Downing, that Daniel is a
federalist? Because, says I, I've heard him called so
down east more than a hundred times. And that's jest
all you know about it, says he. Now I tell you how 'tis,
Major Downing, Daniel is as thorough a republican as
you be, or as I be, and has been ever since my Proclamation
came out against nullification. As soon as that
Proclamation came out Daniel came right over on to the
republican ground and took it upon his shoulder and
carried it through thick and thin where no other man in
the country could have carried it. Says I, Gineral, is
that a fact? And says he yes, you may depend upon it,
'tis every word truth. Well says I, that alters the case
a little, and I'll write to Uncle Joshua and the editor of
the Portland Courier and see what they think of it, and
if they think it's best to have Daniel for President we'll
have him in, and I'll take my turn afterwards: for seeing
the people are bent upon having me for President I wont
decline, though if it is thought best that I should wait a
little while, I wont be particular about that. I'm willing
to do that which will be best for the country.

LETTER LXIX.
In which Cousin Nabby describes her visit to Mr Maelzel's
Congregation of Moskow.

Dear Cousin: — I got here about noon yesterday,
muddy and wet enough. Such dreadful muddy roads
for the time of year, seems to me there never was before.
Butter fetches a grand price. They would n't
offer but eighteen cents at first, but soon as they come
to see it and taste of it, they give me twenty cents right
off for all of yours and mine, and never said a word. —
So much for keeping a neat churn and clean milk-pans.
The yarn and footins sold pretty well too, but I wont
stop to tell you about that till I get back.

I'm going to stop here with ant Sally till next week,
and I want you to come down if you can any way in the
world, for here's a sight here that would make you
jump higher than the cat's back if you should see it.
I'll jest tell you a little about it. When I got here
yesterday, I found ant Sally all in a flutter about going
to see the congregation of Moskow. She said she was
going to carry the children, and nothing would do but I
must go too. She said it would n't cost but two and
thrippence, and she would pay it rather than not have
me go, for she should n't mind the pay, as all that was
paid that evening would be given to the societies what
takes care of little orphan children and carries wood
to poor freezing widows. When she said that, I felt as
though I should be willing to give two pounds of butter
myself. So we all fixed and off we went up to Union
Hall about seven o'clock.

I cant stop to tell you much about the sights I see
there, but you must come and see 'em without fail. I
dont know but they 've nigh upon scared me out of a
year's growth; they showed us first a little feller they
called a fidler. I dont know what he was made of but
he acted jest as though he was alive. He was n't more
than a foot long, and he sot down in a chair as pretty as
a little man. And somebody played some music to him
and that sot him all of a didder, and he made his little
fiddle stick fly so I did n't know but he would shake his
arm off. Then they brought out a little doll baby; a
sweet looking little creature, dressed up as neat as a
pink. And they brought it along up to us, and as true
as you are alive it spoke right out and said ma-ma. I
could n't hardly believe my own ears at first, but it said
ma-ma again, and pa-pa, more than twenty times.

Then they sot a couple of little fellers up on a rope,
and they went to hopping and jumping and dancing
about, and whirling over and over round the rope, till I
thought they would fall and break their necks more than
fifty times. The prettiest one would sit up so straight,
and turn his head round and look at us, and hold his
hands out to us, that I told ant Sally I knew he was
alive and I'd go and take the dear little creature down
before he fell and killed himself. But she held on to
me and declared I should n't go, for he had n't any more
life in him than an ax handle; but I cant hardly believe
it now.

Then they said they would show us the Congregation
of Moskow. And presently I begun to hear a racket
and drums and fifes agoing, and bells a dinging, and by
and by they pulled away some great curtains, that hung
clear across the Hall, and there was a sight that beat
all I ever see before. I jumped and was going to run
for the door at first, for I thought Portland was all afire;
but ant Sally held on to me till I got pacified a little, and
then I sot down.

And, there, I must say it was the grandest sight that
ever I did see. A thousand buildings and meeting
houses all in a light flame, and the fire and smoke
rolling up to the clouds, and thousands and thousands
of soldiers marching and riding through the streets, and
the drums and the fifes and the bugles and the bells and
the guns; O Sally, you must come and see it, if you
have to come afoot and alone as the gal went to be married.
The man says in the papers he aint agoing to
keep it here only till next Friday night; but I'll coax
him as hard as I can to stay till next week, so you can
have a chance to see it. In haste your loving Cousin,

LETTER LXX.
In which Major Downing concludes it is best to put some
of his poetry into his book.

I am glad you have got
Mr. Lilly, Wait, and Company, in Boston to print my
book, for they say they print about the prettiest books
there is agoing now days, and as many of 'em too as
most any body. I shall go on to Boston in a few days,
so as to see to it, and have it well done. I've been a
thinking it might help the matter along some towards
my getting in to be President, if you would look up that
are piece of poetry that I writ for you three or four years
ago about Sam Patch, and put it into the book. I don't
know as many of the Presidents have wrote much poetry;
but they say Quincy Adams has considerable, and

it's helped him along a good deal. And as I don't want
to leave any stone unturned that would be likely to help
me in, I think it's best to put that in the book.

MAJOR DOWNING'S BIOGRAPHY OF SAM PATCH,
THE JUMPER.

Note, by the Editor. There are some striking
parallels between the race run by the renowned Sam
Patch, of jumping memory, who figured in this jumping
world in the year, (anno Domini) one thousand eight
hundred and twenty-nine, and the no less renowned Major
Jack Downing, who is figuring away `in the full tide
of successful experiment' at this present era. We think
it fortunate for the memory of the jumping hero, as well
as for the world, that his wonderful achievements have
been recorded by so illustrious a genius and accomplished
writer as Major Downing. It is fitting that their memory
should go down to posterity together. They were
both humble in their origin, and both were aspiring and
lofty in their ambition. Neither of them however ever
stooped to run after popularity, for popularity always
run after them. Sam commenced with taking small
jumps, and Jack commenced with reaching after small
offices. Sam's ambition soon led him to leap from high
bridges and factory walls, and Jack began anon to think
of a Governor's chair and a seat in the Cabinet at Washington.
Sam at length would stop nothing short of
jumping down the falls of Gennesee and Niagara, and
Jack has fixed his eye upon the lofty mark and is pressing
forward with full vigor for the Presidency of the
United States. Sam's last jump was a fatal one, and we
sincerely hope the parallel may not be carried out, but
that the Major may yet see many good days, and continue
to serve his country as faithfully as he has hitherto
done.

But we must explain how Major Downing came to be
the biographer of Sam Patch.

While Mr Downing (we say Mr, because it was before
he received any office) was attending upon the Legislature
of Maine in 1830, one day when the wheels of government
were clogged and some of the Senators had run
away and there was nothing doing, Mr Downing came into
our room, and sat down and looked over a file of newspapers.
He soon got upon the achievements of Sam
Patch, whose career had a short time before closed, and
he read his history through. Mr Downing's head was
full of the matter. He never read any thing before that
filled him with such intense interest. He had got upon
the track of a kindred spirit, and he was all animation.
He went home with us and spent the night; but he could
talk of nothing and think of nothing but Sam Patch.
He had got his story by heart, and he was talking it over
in his sleep all night. In the morning he rose pale and
nervous. Says he, `I believe that story of Sam Patch
has been ground over in my head more than forty times
to-night, and its got so now it comes through my head
in lines all about the same length, jest like rolls out of a
carding machine; and if you 'll give me some paper and
pen and ink, I 'll put it down.' We furnished him accordingly,
and he sat down and wrote the following
splendid piece of biography, which we published in the
Courier at the time and now insert in the volume of his
life and writings.

BIOGRAPHY OF SAM PATCH.