University of Virginia Library

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.