The southern press. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1850-1852, 1851-03-25

~ The Yankee Blade tells the following
good story of Col. GREENE, the well-known wit
of the Post. 1t is one of the best Boston no.
tons" we have seen for long time-and al
most equals the joke perpetrated by the Presi-
ident and his Secretary, in positively the last
proclamation relating to the rescue: :"
ANEW Posr OFFIcE.--Everybody who reads
the papers, is aware that one Of the spiciest is
the Boston Post. Col. Greene, the editor, is a
| great joker, but one morning last week, he was
jokee, 40 we will endeavor to show. A tall
Vermonter stepped into tho Coils. office, and in.
quired if there was any letters for him in the
office?"
The Colonel, who was hard at work upon an
anti-coalition "leader," replied in the negative
"Wa,al this is the post office, amt i'll"
"This is the Office of the Post" said the Col.
onel, very blandly."
"Ye-as, jest 80. Wa-al didn't know but nv
old waman bad rit down about the gownd |
talked Of getting for her. Yew see cum from
up towards Vermont, with lot Of brumes and
axe-helves, and sich like horticultural fixins, to
see If couldn't dicker little mite in Bosting.
And
"You will find no letters here,' said the Colo
mel, interrupting the Yankee in the full flow Of
his narrative "This is the Office of the Boston
Morning Post"
+" Sho! wa-al l see Morning Post on the
sign, cum ter think, and might have knowed
that yew didn't deliver letters in the afternoon,
but you see didn't expect nun this mornin,
for Zekel Peabody started from hum ten days
arter cum, and he told me that Keziah was
goin' to write letter to me to git her yaler
salnmon cullered delane. and dunno how many
yards to git, no more'n hen with her head cut
of. But, I'll drap in to. morrow mornin about
daylight, and mabby thereI be letter. | sold
my necessares almost out to-day, and dunno
but shall trade a little mite IN horseHsh. I've
got colt here that's about as eQu as any that
ever wore huffs. He'll leave about an large a
tract of country behind him in the course of a
day, as any other animal. He's been KEEP in the
stable several weeks and when | started from
hum and set the blood to suckulatn in him all
of student, it gin him leetle tech of the blind
staggers, but jumpt out of the Vaughn, and
stuck my jack knife into the ruff of his mouth
jest in third wrinkle, and set the blood runnin'--
that relieved his systim, and he goes like bird.
Wa-al I'll drap in tomorrow mornin' and see
there amt no evenin' or afternoon Post Office in
| the city. sposed-I sa-ay, yew hnint got a nag
you'd like ter trade, hev you! Ell yew get my
colt, yew can lay EN- all out on the neck. Don't
yew-"
"Confound the fellow !" said Colonel Greene,
who had been trying to write all this time. "Sir,
this il not post Office for the delivery Of letters,
but the publication Office of the Boston Morn
ing Post; newspaper, sir, is published here
Do you understand it now, my friend am not
a man Of letters, but Of types. Ha, ha.'
$1,000! Yew don't say Wall, / don't
keer durn whether | get letter any how, for
if don't shan't half to buy no gownd!"
The Vermontcr sauntered out, and the Colo
mel resumed his pen, bnt he remembered the
Vermonter, when, on the following day, the
Evening Journal commenced its lender with the
following words THE Post Of this morning
contains long and rambling article on the Sem
atorial question-coalition," Rel Yankee Blade