University of Virginia Library

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,