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James Russell Lowell - A Second Letter From B. Sawin, Esq.
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I spose you wonder ware I be; I can`t tell, fer the soul o` me,
Exacly ware I be myself,--meanin` by thet the holl o` me.
Wen I left hum, I hed two legs, an` they worn`t bad ones neither,
(The scaliest trick they ever played wuz bringin` on me hither,)
Now one on `em`s I dunno ware;--they thought I wuz adyin`,
An` sawed it off because they said `twuz kin` o` mortifyin`;
I`m willin` to believe it wuz, an` yit I don`t see, nuther,
Wy one shoud take to feelin` cheap a minnit sooner `n t`other,
Sence both wuz equilly to blame; but things is ez they be;
It took on so they took it off, an` thet`s enough fer me:      
There`s one good thing, though, to be said about my wooden new one,--
The liquor can`t git into it ez `t used to in the true one;
So it saves drink; an` then, besides, a feller couldn`t beg
A gretter blessin` then to hev one ollers sober peg;
It`s true a chap`s in want o` two fer follerin` a drum,
But all the march I`m up to now is jest to Kingdom Come.

I`ve lost one eye, but thet`s a loss it`s easy to supply
Out o` the glory thet I`ve gut, fer thet is all my eye;
An` one is big enough, I guess, by diligently usin` it,
To see all I shall ever git by way o` pay fer losin` it;      
Off`cers I notice, who git paid fer all our thumps an` kickins,
Du wal by keepin` single eyes arter the fattest pickins;
So, ez the eye`s put fairly out, I`ll larn to go without it,
An` not allow _myself_ to be no gret put out about it.
Now, le` me see, thet isn`t all; I used, `fore leavin` Jaalam,
To count things on my finger-eends, but sutthin` seems to ail `em:
Ware`s my left hand? Oh, darn it, yes, I recollect wut`s come on `t;
I haint no left arm but my right, an` thet`s gut jest a thumb on `t;
It aint so bendy ez it wuz to cal`late a sum on `t.
I`ve hed some ribs broke,--six (I b`lieve),--I haint kep` no account on `em;     
Wen pensions git to be the talk, I`ll settle the amount on `em.
An` now I`m speakin` about ribs, it kin` o` brings to mind
One thet I couldn`t never break,--the one I lef` behind;
Ef you should see her, jest clear out the spout o` your invention
An` pour the longest sweetnin` in about an annooal pension,
An` kin` o` hint (in case, you know, the critter should refuse to be
Consoled) I aint so `xpensive now to keep ez wut I used to be;
There`s one arm less, ditto one eye, an` then the leg thet`s wooden
Can be took off an` sot away wenever ther`s a puddin`.

I spose you think I`m comin` back ez opperlunt ez thunder,      
With shiploads o` gold images an` varus sorts o` plunder;
Wal, `fore I vullinteered, I thought this country wuz a sort o`
Canaan, a reg`lar Promised Land flowin` with rum an` water,
Ware propaty growed up like time, without no cultivation,
An` gold wuz dug ez taters be among our Yankee nation,
Ware nateral advantages were pufficly amazin`,
Ware every rock there wuz about with precious stuns wuz blazin`.
Ware mill-sites filled the country up ez thick ez you could cram `em,
An` desput rivers run about a beggin` folks to dam `em;
Then there were meetinhouses, tu, chockful o` gold an` silver      
Thet you could take, an` no one couldn`t hand ye in no bill fer;--
Thet`s wut I thought afore I went, thet`s wut them fellers told us
Thet stayed to hum an` speechified an` to the buzzards sold us;
I thought thet gold-mines could be gut cheaper than Chiny asters,
An` see myself acomin` back like sixty Jacob Astors;
But sech idees soon melted down an` didn`t leave a grease-spot;
I vow my holl sheer o` the spiles wouldn`t come nigh a V spot;
Although, most anywares we`ve ben, you needn`t break no locks,
Nor run no kin` o` risks, to fill your pocket full o` rocks.
I `xpect I mentioned in my last some o` the nateral feeturs      
O` this all-fiered buggy hole in th` way o` awfle creeturs,
But I fergut to name (new things to speak on so abounded)
How one day you`ll most die o` thust, an` `fore the next git drownded.
The clymit seems to me jest like a teapot made o` pewter
Our Preudence hed, thet wouldn`t pour (all she could du) to suit her;
Fust place the leaves `ould choke the spout, so`s not a drop `ould dreen out,
Then Prude `ould tip an` tip an` tip, till the holl kit bust clean out,
The kiver-hinge-pin bein` lost, tea-leaves an` tea an` kiver
`ould all come down _kerswosh!_ ez though the dam bust in a river.
Jest so `tis here; holl months there aint a day o` rainy weather,      
An` jest ez th` officers `ould be a layin` heads together
Ez t` how they`d mix their drink at sech a milingtary deepot,--
`Twould pour ez though the lid wuz off the everlastin` teapot.
The cons`quence is, thet I shall take, wen I`m allowed to leave here,
One piece o` propaty along, an` thet`s the shakin` fever;
It`s reggilar employment, though, an` thet aint thought to harm one,
Nor `taint so tiresome ez it wuz with t`other leg an` arm on;
An` it`s a consolation, tu, although it doosn`t pay,
To hev it said you`re some gret shakes in any kin` o` way.
`Tworn`t very long, I tell ye wut, I thought o` fortin-makin`,--    
One day a reg`lar shiver-de-freeze, an` next ez good ez bakin`,--
One day abrilin` in the sand, then smoth`rin` in the mashes,--
Git up all sound, be put to bed a mess o` hacks an` smashes.
But then, thinks I, at any rate there`s glory to be hed,--
Thet`s an investment, arter all, thet mayn`t turn out so bad;
But somehow, wen we`d fit an` licked, I ollers found the thanks
Gut kin` o` lodged afore they come ez low down ez the ranks;
The Gin`rals gut the biggest sheer, the Cunnles next, an` so on,--
_We_ never gat a blasted mite o` glory ez I know on;
An` spose we hed, I wonder how you`re goin` to contrive its      
Division so`s to give a piece to twenty thousand privits;
Ef you should multiply by ten the portion o` the brav`st one,
You wouldn`t git more `n half enough to speak of on a grave-stun;
We git the licks,--we`re jest the grist thet`s put into War`s hoppers;
Leftenants is the lowest grade thet helps pick up the coppers.
It may suit folks thet go agin a body with a soul in `t,
An` aint contented with a hide without a bagnet hole in `t;
But glory is a kin` o` thing _I_ sha`n`t pursue no furder,
Coz thet`s the off`cers` parquisite,--yourn`s on`y jest the murder.

Wal, arter I gin glory up, thinks I at least there`s one       
Thing in the bills we aint bed yit, an` thet`s the GLORIOUS FUN;
Ef once we git to Mexico, we fairly may persume we
All day an` night shall revel in the halls o` Montezumy.
I`ll tell ye wut _my_ revels wuz, an` see how you would like `em;
_We_ never gut inside the hall: the nighest ever _I_ come
Wuz stan`in` sentry in the sun (an`, fact, it _seemed_ a cent`ry)
A ketchin` smells o` biled an` roast thet come out thru the entry,
An` hearin` ez I sweltered thru my passes an` repasses,
A rat-tat-too o` knives an` forks, a clinkty-clink o` glasses:
I can`t tell off the bill o` fare the Gin`rals hed inside;       
All I know is, thet out o` doors a pair o` soles wuz fried,
An` not a hunderd miles away from ware this child wuz posted,
A Massachusetts citizen wuz baked an` biled an` roasted;
The on`y thing like revellin` thet ever come to me
Wuz bein` routed out o` sleep by thet darned revelee.

They say the quarrel`s settled now; for my part I`ve some doubt on `t,
`t`ll take more fish-skin than folks think to take the rile clean on `t;
At any rate I`m so used up I can`t do no more fightin`,
The on`y chance thet`s left to me is politics or writin`;
Now, ez the people`s gut to hev a milingtary man,     
An` I aint nothin` else jest now, I`ve hit upon a plan;
The can`idatin` line, you know, `ould suit me to a T,
An` ef I lose, `twunt hurt my ears to lodge another flea;
So I`ll set up ez can`idate fer any kin` o` office,
(I mean fer any thet includes good easy-cheers an` soffies;
Fer ez tu runnin` fer a place ware work`s the time o` day,
You know thet`s wut I never did,--except the other way
Ef it`s the Presidential cheer fer wich I`d better run,
Wut two legs anywares about could keep up with my one?
There aint no kin` o` quality in can`idates, it`s said,     
So useful eza wooden leg,--except a wooden head;
There`s nothin` aint so poppylar--(wy, it `s a parfect sin
To think wut Mexico hez paid fer Santy Anny`s pin--
Then I haint gut no princerples, an`, sence I wuz knee-high,
I never _did_ hev any gret, ez you can testify;
I`m a decided peace-man, tu, an` go agin the war,--
Fer now the holl on `t`s gone an` past, wut is there to go _for_?
Ef, wile you`re `lectioneerin` round, some curus chaps should beg
To know my views o` state affairs, jest answer WOODEN LEG!
Ef they aint settisfied with thet, an` kin` o` pry an` doubt     
An` ax fer sutthin` deffynit, jest say ONE EYE PUT OUT!
Thet kin` o` talk I guess you`ll find`ll answer to a charm,
An` wen you`re druv tu nigh the wall, hol` up my missin` arm;
Ef they should nose round fer a pledge, put on a vartoous look
An` tell `em thet`s precisely wut I never gin nor--took!

Then you can call me `Timbertoes,`--thet`s wut the people likes;
Sutthin` combinin` morril truth with phrases sech ez strikes;
Some say the people`s fond o` this, or thet, or wut you please,--
I tell ye wut the people want is jest correct idees;
`Old Timbertoes,` you see, `s a creed it`s safe to be quite bold on,       
There`s nothin` in `t the other side can any ways git hold on;
It`s a good tangible idee, a sutthin` to embody
Thet valooable class o` men who look thru brandy-toddy;
It gives a Party Platform, tu, jest level with the mind
Of all right-thinkin`, honest folks thet mean to go it blind;
Then there air other good hooraws to dror on ez you need `em,
Sech ez the ONE-EYED SLARTERER, the BLOODY BIRDOFREDUM:
Them`s wut takes hold o` folks thet think, ez well ez o` the masses,
An` makes you sartin o` the aid o` good men of all classes.

There`s one thing I`m in doubt about: in order to be Presidunt,      
It`s absolutely ne`ssary to be a Southern residunt;
The Constitution settles thet, an` also thet a feller
Must own a nigger o` some sort, jet black, or brown, or yeller.
Now I haint no objections agin particklar climes,
Nor agin ownin` anythin` (except the truth sometimes),
But, ez I haint no capital, up there among ye, maybe,
You might raise funds enough fer me to buy a low-priced baby,
An` then to suit the No`thern folks, who feel obleeged to say
They hate an` cus the very thing they vote fer every day,
Say you`re assured I go full butt fer Libbaty`s diffusion      
An` make the purchis on`y jest to spite the Institootion;--
But, golly! there`s the currier`s hoss upon the pavement pawin`!
I`ll be more `xplicit in my next.
                              Yourn,          BIRDOFREDUM SAWIN.
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