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LETTER XLIII. THE PRESIDENT AND THE REST OF 'EM TURN A SHORT CORNER AT CONCORD, AND SET THEIR FACES TOWARD WASHINGTON.
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43. LETTER XLIII.
THE PRESIDENT AND THE REST OF 'EM TURN A SHORT CORNER AT CONCORD,
AND SET THEIR FACES TOWARD 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 isn'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 can't help it; but I feel
bad enough about it to cry a barrel of tears.

I don't 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 great Demokrats.
But the stage is jest agoing to start.

In haste, from your friend,

MAJOR JACK DOWNING.