Chapter VIII: Letter VI

_The Question of the "Contrybands"--Lincoln and the Major Discuss It--The Major Tells a Story--Shows Mr. Lincoln That the Government is out of Order--Says It's a "Dimmycratic Machine" and that Seward and Chase Don't Know How to Run It--They are Like Old Jim Dumbutter and the Threshing Machine--The Major Tells Another Story--"The Kernel" Gets a Joke on Seward--Tells a Story About the "Giascutis."_

WASHINGTON, April 15th, 1862.

_To the Editers of The Cawcashin:_

SURS: I've ben kinder sick sence I writ you last. The truth is, this clymate in the spring is ralely very weeknin to the constitushin. Linkin, too, has been terribully anxus about war noose, and the nigh approach of hot weather. But the great subjeck which the Kernel and I have been considerin is the "contrybands." What is to be done with 'em? That's the questshin, and Linkin ses he'd like to see the feller that can tell him. One night Linkin got a big map, an he sot down, and "Now," ses he, "Majer, let's take a look at all creashin, an see ef ther aint sum place whar we kin send these pesky kinky heds, and git red of 'em." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I'm agreed." So we went at it. First Linkin put his finger on Haty. "Now," ses he, "ther's an iland that jest suits the nigger constitushin. Suppose they go thar?" "But," ses I, "Kernel, they won't go, an ef they did, they wouldn't do nothin." "Wal," ses he, "no matter, ef they won't trouble us here enny longer." "But," ses I, "ther's one more resin. The iland aint large enuff to hold all the niggers--four millions or thereabouts." "Wal," ses he, "ther's Centril Ameriky--what do you think of that spot?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that's a fine country, naterally. The Creator fixed it up on a grand skale, but you can't make a treaty with it, enny more than you can count the spots on a little pig, when he keeps runin about the hull time. The truth is, you can't tell who'll be President of it from one mornin to the next, and the niggers you send there might all git their throats cut jest as soon as they landed." "Wal," ses Linkin, "that's a _slight_ objecshin. But let's turn over to Afriky. There's Libery, how would that do, Major?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that country is about the biggest humbug of the hull lot. Fust off, sum raly good peopul thought it was goin to amount to sumthin, but after forty years of spendin money on it, ther aint enny more chanst of civilizin Afriky in that way than ther is of makin a rifled cannon out of a basswood log. A few dominys, who can't git enny boddy willin to hear 'em preach, hev got hold of it, an are makin a good thing out of it. As for sending our niggers ther, why it would take all the shippin of the world, and more money than Chase could print by steam in a year." "Wal," ses Linkin, "where on arth kin we send 'em?" "Now," ses I, "Kernel, I've got an idee of my own about that matter. I think they are best off where they are and jest as they are, but ef you must git red of 'em, I would send 'em all to Massa-chews-its! Peepul who are so anxus to have other folks overrun with free niggers ought to be willin to share sum of the blessins themselves. So let all that are here in Washington be sent rite off to Boston." "Yes, that might do," ses Linkin, "but then, ef they are entitled to their freedom, they orter be allowed to go where they are a mind to." "But," ses I, "sum States won't have 'em at all, an they can't go there. So what's to be done?" "Wal," ses Linkin, "I tell you what it is, Majer, this is an almighty tuff subjeck. I know somethin about splittin rails, and what hard work is ginerally, but this nigger questshin has puzzled me more than enny thing I ever got hold of before." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I kin explain the resin why." Ses he, "Let's hear you, Majer." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, where do you carry your pocket-book?" Ses he, "What on arth has that to do with the subjeck?" Ses I, "Hold on, you'll see." "Wal," ses he, "I always carry it rite there, in my left hand trowsers pocket." Ses I, "Didn't you ever have a hole in that pocket for a day or two, and had to put your pocket-book in sum other?" Ses he, "Majer, I have." Ses I, "What did you do with it then?" "Wal," ses he, "I put it in my right hand pocket, but it kinder chafed my leg there, cause it warn't used to it, and it also felt mity onhandy. So I put it in my side coat pocket, but every time I stooped over it would drop out. Then I put it in my coat tail pocket, but I was kept all the time on the _qui vivers_, afeerd sum pickpocket would steal it. At last, in order to make it safe, and sure, I put it in the top of my hat, under sum papers, but the hat was too top-heavy, and over it went, spilling everything. I tell you I was glad when my pocket was fixed, and I got it back in the old spot."

"Now," ses I, "Kernel, that's jest the case with the niggers. The minnit you get 'em out of ther place, you don't know what on arth to do with 'em. Now, we've been here all the evenin sarchin over the map to see ef we can't find sum place to put 'em. But it is all no manner of use. You've got to do with 'em jest as you did with your pocket-book. Put 'em whar they belong, an then you won't have any more trubbil."

Linkin didn't see eggzatly how I was gwin to apply the story, an wen he did, he looked kinder struck up. Wen I saw that I hed made a hit on him, I follered it up. Ses I, "Kernel, this government ain't out of order, as Seward an Chase kontend. They are only tryin to run it _the rong way_--that's what makes all the trubbil. I once hed a thrashin machine, an I sold it to old Jim Dumbutter, an after he got it he sed it warn't good for nothin--that it wouldn't run, &c. So I went over to see it, an I vow ef he didn't have the machine all rong eend foremist. I went to work at it, an, after a leetle wile, it went off like grease, jest as slick as a whistle. You see, old Dumbutter didn't onderstand the machine, an, therefore, he couldn't make it go. Now," ses I, "Kernel, our Constitushin is a Dimmycratic machine, an its got to be run as a Dimmycratic machine, or it _won't run at all_! Now, you see, Seward is tryin to run it on his 'higher law' principle, but it warn't made for that, an the consekence is, the thing is pretty nigh smashed up."

"Wal," ses Linkin, "things do look kinder dark. I don't know whar we will come out, but I guess I'll issoo a proclamashin for the ministers to pray for us. Perhaps they will do sum good." Ses I, "Kernel, that reminds me of old Elder Doolittle, who cum along the road one day rite by whar old Sol Hopkins, a very wicked old sinner, was hoein corn. The season was late, as the corn was mity slim. Ses the Elder: 'Mr. Hopkins, your corn is not very forrard this year.' 'No, its monstrus poor,' ses Hopkins, 'an I guess I shan't have half a crop.' 'Wal,' ses the Elder, 'Mister Hopkins, you ought to pray to the Lord for good crops; perhaps He will hear you.' 'Wal, perhaps He will, an perhaps He won't;' ses old Sol, 'but I'll be darned ef I don't beleave that this corn needs _manure_ a tarnel sight more than it does prayin for.' Now," ses I, "Linkin, I think this country is somethin like old Hopkinses corn. _It_ needs _statesmanship a good deal more than prayin for._" Linkin didn't seem to like that observashin of mine much, for he turned the subjick, an he ain't axed me what it was best to do with the niggers sence.

The other day the Kernel got off a good joke on Seward. You know what a solem looking chap he is naterally. Wal, since he has got to be Chief Clark of the President, he seems to look solemer than ever. He cum into Linkin's room, an the Kernel ses, "Have you heerd the news, Boss?" "No," ses Seward, "what is it?" "Wal," ses Linkin, "the Giascutis is loose." "What's that?" ses Seward. "Why," ses Linkin, "ain't you never heerd the story of the Giascutis?" Seward sed he never had. "Wal," ses the Kernel, "I must tell you. Several years ago, a couple of Yankees were travellin out West, an they got out of money. So they koncluded to 'raise the wind' as follers:--They were to go into a village; an announce a show, pretendin that they had a remarkabul animal, which they had jest captured on the Rocky Mountings. A bran new beast such as was never seen before. The name was the 'Giascutis.' It was to be shown in a room, and one of the fellers was to play 'Giascutis.' He was put behind a screen an had some chains to shake, an he also contrived to growl or howl as no critter ever did before. Wal, the peeple of the village all cum to see the Giascutis, an, after the room was filled, his companion began to explain to the audience what a terribul beast he had, how he killed ten men, two boys and five hosses in ketchin him, an now how had got him, at 'enormous expense,' to show him. Jest as everybody was gapin an starin, thar was, all at once, a most terrific growlin, and howlin, an rattlin of chains; an, in the excitement, the showman, almost breathless, yelled out, at the top of his voice, 'the Giascutis is loose. Run! run! run!' An away went the people down stairs, heels over head, losin all they had paid, an seein nothin. Now," ses Linkin, "'the Merrymac is out,' an when I read about the vessels, an tug-boats, an steamers, all scamperin off as soon as she was seen, I thought she was the 'Giascutis,' sure, only I'm afraid she is a real Giascutis, an no mistake." Since then, Linkin calls the Merrymac the Giascutis all the time.

Your friend,

MAJER JACK DOWNING.