Chapter XXVIII: Letter XXVI

_The Democratic Party Whipped--Things as bad as they can be--A Story in Point--Mr. Lincoln sends for the Major again--The Major writes him a Letter--The Return of "Kernel" Stebbins, formerly "Insine"--His Reception at Downingville--"Kernel" Doolittle's Speech--"Kernel" Stebbins' Reply--Elder Sniffles' Preaches a Sermon._

DOWNINGVILLE, Oct. 26, 1863.

_To the Editers of The Dabook:_

SURS:--'Cause your readers hain't herd from me lately, I 'spose they think I'm ded, or gone over to the Abolishinists, which is a tarnal sight wus: but I ain't in neither fix. I'm pretty well jest now. The hot wether, durin the summer, kinder tried me, but I carry eighty years jest about as well as any man ever did. The resin you ain't herd from me is jest this: I've been feelin oncommon gloomy and down-sperited all summer. Everything seemed to be goin from bad to wus. Linkin wouldn't take my advice an cum out agin the Abolitionists, but issued his free nigger proclamashun rite agin the law an the Constitushin both. Wal, things have gone down hill rapid sence then. The Demmycratic party didn't cum out bluntly agin this proclamashin, but kept on supportin the war, an the consequence is, it has whipped all round. Politics are gettin down to first principles.

Things are jest as bad as they kin be, and that is what encourages me. I shall never forget Hezekiah Stebbins, who lived away up in the upper part of Penobscot. One winter it had been awful cold weather, and 'Kiah had wonderful bad luck, and towards spring it seemed to get worse instead of better. He had lost his horse, and his cow, and his chickens, and all his pigs but one. Finally, that died, and the next day I happened to go up to his house to see how he was gettin along. I found the old man happy as a lark. He was singin and shoutin as if nothing had happen'd. When I went in, ses I, "'Kiah, what on airth is the matter?" "Oh," ses he, "the last pig is ded," and he went to jumpin and clappin his hands, as if he was the happiest man in the universe. Ses I, "What possesses you to act so?" "Wal," ses he, "things _can't_ be no wus. The last pig is ded! anything that happens now must be for the better." And just so it is with the Dimmycratic party. Anything now that happens to it _must_ be for the better. And I must confess that I feel a good deal like 'Kiah. I don't feel a bit like settin down and cryin like a sick baby over spilt milk, because we've been whipt in the late elecshins. That ain't the way the old Ginral Hickory Jackson taught me Dimmocracy.

The other day I got a letter from Linkin, askin me to cum on to Washinton. He ses he is gettin into a heep of trouble about his next messidge, all on account of the diffikilty which Blair an Chase air kickin up about what is to be dun with the suthrin States after the rebelyon is put down. He ses he wants me to help git up the messidge, and kinder fix things up ginrally. I writ back that cold wether was cumin on, and my rumatiz would probably trouble me, so I could not tell exactly what I would do, but if I could be of any service to my country, as long as life lasted, I would do my duty. I wrote him, also, about that matter of the southern States, an I told him that it reminded me of the old receipt for cooking a rabbit. "_First catch your rabbit._" I told him they had not got the southern States yet, that they sartainly wouldn't get them this year, an I didn't see any great likelihood of gettin them next year. In fact, the times of the soldiers were mostly out, an I didn't believe they would ever get another sich an army, an if he followed my advice he would get up a Peace this winter without fail. I ain't got any answer to this letter, but I shall wait for one before I go. If the Kernel talks huffy, I won't stir a step, for he knows I allers tell him the plain, blunt truth, as I believe it. Wen I can't talk that way to a man, I won't have nothing to do with him. The old Ginneral allers wanted everybody around him to speak there rale sentiments. Nothing made him so mad as to suspect any body of flatterin him, or shaming in any way.

The other day Kernel Stebbins cum hum from the war. The Kernel has been down to Morris Island with Ginneral Gilmur. He ses that the sand on that island is kinder onaccountable. The Kernel reckons that he has eat nigh about a bushel. The Kernel used to be very good on writin poetry, but he says all the flatus has oozed out of him, an he don't believe he could write a line to save his life. We had a grand recepshin for the Kernel on his arrival. The Downingville Insensibles turned out as usual on sich occashins. You recollect that the Kernel went off as an Insine, an when he was promoted to be Captain he cum hum an we giv him a recepshin. Now he is raised to Kernel he cums hum agin. He cums every time he gets promoted, to let his old naybors see how he looks in his new uniform. I never see the Kernel look so well. He has got a span new suit of blue uniform, all covered with gold buttons, an gold lace an gold shoulder-straps. I tell you, the people looked astonished, and the Downingville folks feel very proud of him. The Kernel expects before long to be a Ginneral, and then to be called to the command of the Army of the Potomac! Wen the Kernel was received at the Town Hall, Kernel Doolittle, who commands the Downingville Insensibles, made the recepshin speech. The following is the speech, with the Kernel's reply:

"Kernel Stebbins: I am deputed by the citizens of Downingville to welcome you once more to your native town and hum. We have heard of your gallant exploits, your glorious bravery, your never-dyin devoshin to the Star-Spangled Banner. Comin as you do, covered with the dust and blood of the battle-field, we hail you as the friend of the oppressed African and the savior of your country."

To which the Kernel replied:

"Kernel Doolittle: I can't begin to express to you the feelins of my hart. This occashin is techin. Sojers can't make speeches. I've dun my duty. I've seen the cannons roar. I've heard the flash of a thousand rifles all at once. There ain't nothin that can equal it for rite down tall sublimity. But, feller-citizens, we ought to be most rejoiced now because freedom is going it at such big licks. I'me a manifest destiny man. I believe freedom is to extend from the frozen planes of Alabama to the sunny banks of Newfoundland. There ain't nothin kin stop it. It is comin like an avalanche from the eternal hills of Giberalter. Freedom! freedom! will resound from creashin come to pullin turnip time, an all the hopples that bind the legs of American citizens of Afriken 'scent will fall off. Them's my sentiments, and I don't keer who knows 'em. The old Union ain't of any more ackount in these 'ere times than an iron pot with a hole in the bottom. Wat we want is a new Union which will have for its motto the celebrated words of Daniel Webster, 'Freedom and niggers--now and forever--one and inspirable.'"

"Amen," yelled out Deacon Jenkins, who had been listenin' attentively, as the Kernel sat down, and the hull audience broke out into the most tumultuous applause. There is a little mistake in Kernel Doolittle's speech, where he speaks of Kernel Stebbins being covered with the dust an blood of the battle-field. Now, the truth was, the Kernel, with his new uniform, looked as if he had jest cum out of a band-box, but Kernel Doolittle had his speech writ out, an he couldn't alter it. Kernel Stebbins got on such high hosses, that he talked about seeing the boomin' of cannon an hearin' the flash of guns, but the truth was, he didn't know exactly what he said an the people were so carried away with havin' a live Kernel among them, that they didn't notice it. There ain't been nothin' talked of in Downingville sence the Kernel's return, except his recepshin. Elder Sniffles preached a sarmon on it, takin' for his text "There shall be wars an rumors of wars," an provin from the Bible that war is the duty of all real, genuine Christians. So, you see, there ain't a more loyal place in the country, unless it be Washinton, where all the office-holders an contractors live. But I must close. I did't expect to write you but a few lines this time. If I go to Washington, I will let you into the secrete of the Blair and Chase rumpus, an keep you posted up ginerally on things behind the curtin."

Yours, till deth,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.