You Greenbackers are like the old woman in the Tewksbury, Mass., Poor-House. She used to be well off, and didn't like her quarters. You Greenbackers have left your father's house of many mansions and have fed on shucks about long enough. The Supervisor came into the Poor-House one day and asked the old lady how she liked it. She said she didn't like the company, and asked him what he would advise her to do under similar circumstances. "Oh, you'd better stay. You're prejudiced," said he. "Do you think anybody is ever prejudiced in their sleep?" asked the old lady. "I had a dream the other night. I dreamed I died and went to Heaven. Lots of nice people were there. A nice man came to me and asked me where I was from. Says I, 'From Tewksbury, Mass.' He looked in his book and said, 'You can't stay here.' "I asked what he would advise me to do under similar circumstances." 'Well,' he said, 'there's hell down there, you might try that.' "Well, I went down there, and the men told me my name wasn't on the book and I couldn't stay there. 'Well,' said I, 'What would you advise me to do under similar circumstances?' 'Said he, 'You'll have to go back to Tewksbury.' And when Green-backers remember what they once were, you must feel now, when you were forced to join the Democratic party, as bad as the old lady who had to go back to Tewksbury.