Columbus, O., June the 21, ’62. I WUZ onto my way to Columbus to attend the annooal gatherin uv the fatheful at that city, a dooty I hev religusly performed fer over 30 yeres. Ther wuz but wun seet vakent in the car, and onto that I sot down. Presently a gentleman carryin uv a karpit bag, sot down beside me, and we towunst commenst conversashen. After discussin the crops, the wether, et settry, I askt wher he resided. “In Oberlin,” sez he. “But,” sez he. “Oberlin,” continyood I, “that reskoos niggers, and sets at defians the benifisent laws fer takin on em back to their kind and hevenly-minded masters—Oberlin——” “My jentle frend,” sez he, “Oberlin don’t do nuthin uv the kind. Yoo’ve bin misinformed. Oberlin respex the laws, and hez now a body uv her galyent sons in the feeld a fightin to manetane the Constooshn.” “A fightin to manetane the Constooshn,” retordid I. “My frend” (and I spoke impressively), “no Oberlin man is a doin any sich thing. Oberlin never fit for no Constooshn. Oberlin commenst this war, Oberlin wuz the prime cause uv all the trubble. Wat wuz the beginnin uv it. Our Suthrin brethrin wantid the territories—Oberlin objectid. They wantid Kansas fer ther blessid instooshn—Oberlin agin objecks. They sent colonies with muskits and sich, to hold the terrytory—Oberlin sent 2 thowsand armed with Bibles and Sharp’s rifles—two instooshns Dimocrisy cood never stand afore—and druv em out. They wantid Breckinridge fer President—Oberlin refused and elektid Linkin. Then they seceded, and why is it that they still hold out?” He made no anser. “Becoz,” continyood I, transfixin him with my penetratin gaze, “Oberlin won’t submit. We mite 2-day hev peese, ef Oberlin wood say to Linkin, ‘Resine!’ and to Geff Davis, ‘Come up higher!’ When I say Oberlin, Jest eggsactly 80-six yeres ago, akordin to Jayneses almanac, a work wich I perooz annually with grate delite, the Amerykin Eagle (whose portrate any wun who possessis a 5 cent peece kin behold) wuz born, the Goddis uv Liberty bein its muther, the Spirit uv Freedom its sire, Tomas Gefferson actin ez physician on the occasion. The proud bird growd ez tho it slept on guano—its left wing dipt into the Pasific, its rite into the Atlantic, its beek thretened Kanady, while his magestik tale cast a shadder ore the Gulf. Sich wuz the Eagle up to March, ’61. Wat is his condishn now? His hed hangs, his tale droops, ther’s no strength in his talons. Wat’s the trubble? Oberlin. He hed bin fed on nigger fer yeres, and hed thrived on the diet. Oberlin got the keepin uv him—she withholds his nateral food—and onless Oberlin is whaled this fall, down goes the Eagle. Petroleum V. Nasby. |