Fer John P. Robinson he Sez he wun't vote fer Guvener B. Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man: He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf; But consistency still wuz a part of his planHe's ben true to one party-an' thet is himself; So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war; He don't vally principle more'n an old cud; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an' blood? So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village, With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut ain't, We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage, An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint; But John P. Robinson he Sez this kind o' thing's an exploded idee. The side of our country must ollers be took, An' President Polk, you know, he is our country. An' the angel thet writes all our sins in a book Puts the debit to him, an' to us the per contry; An' John P. Sez this is his view o' the things to a T. Parson Wilbur he calls all these argimunts lies; Is half on it ign'ance an' t'other half rum; But John P. Sez it ain't no sech thing; an', of course, so must we. Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats, An' marched round in front of a drum an' a fife, To git some on 'em office, and some on 'em votes; But John P. Robinson he Sez they didn't know everythin' down in Judee. Wal, it's a marcy we've gut folks to tell us The rights an' the wrongs o' these matters, I vowGod sends country lawyers, an' other wise fellers, To start the world's team w'en it gits in a slough; Fer John P. Robinson he Sez the world'll go right, ef he hollers out Gee! A Letter From a Candidate for the Presidency in Answer to Suttin Questions Proposed by Mr. Hosea Biglow, Inclosed in a Note from Mr. Biglow to S. H. Gay, Esq., Editor of the National Anti-Slavery Standard. DEER SIR its gut to be the fashun now to rite letters to the candid 8s and i wus chose at a publick Meetin in Jaalam to du wut wus nessary fur that town. i writ to 271 ginerals and gut ansers to 209. tha air called candid 8s but I don't see nothin candid about em. this here I wich I send wus thought satty's factory. I dunno as it's ushle to print Poscrips, but as all the ansers I got hed the saim, I sposed it wus best. times has gretly changed. Formaly to knock a man into a cocked hat wus to use him up, but now it ony gives him a chance fur the cheef madgustracy.-H. B. DEAR SIR,-You wish to know my notions Ez bein' mum or underhand: I'm a straight-spoken kind o' creetur Thet blurts right out wut's in his head, An' ef I've one pecooler feetur, It is a nose thet wunt be led. So, to begin at the beginnin', I ain't agoin' to try your patience I jest let on I smell a rat. Thet is, I mean, it seems to me so, An', fact, it don't smell very strong; An' say wich party hez most sense; There may be folks o' greater talence Thet can't set stiddier on the fence. I'm an eclectic; ez to choosin' 'Twixt this an' thet, I'm plaguy lawth; I leave a side thet looks like losin', But (wile there's doubt) I stick to both; I stan' upon the Constitution, Ez preudunt statesmun say, who've planned A way to git the most profusion O' chances ez to ware they'll stand. Ez fer the war, I go agin it, I mean to say I kind o' du,Thet is, I mean thet, bein' in it, The best way wuz to fight it thru; Not but wut abstract war is horrid, I sign to thet with all my heart,But civlyzation doos git forrid. Sometimes upon a powder-cart. About thet darned Proviso matter Nor I aint one my sense to scatter Ez to the answerin' o' questions, Fer the holl country, an' the ground I don't appruve o' givin' pledges; Thet preudunt farmers don't turn out, Ez long 'z the people git their rattle, Wut is there fer 'm to grout about? Ez to the slaves, there's no confusion On thet pint you yourself may jedge: All is, I never drink no sperit, Nor I haint never signed no pledge. |