Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1856-11-21
MltstcItdntous.
PLAYING OLD SLEDGE FOR THE
PRESIDENCY.
Dream of SUIT L0vengOOd.
BY 81, OF TENNESSEE.

BY 81, OF TENNESSEE.
Well, Sut, what was your dream
Tell us; if you ever dreamed anything
smart your friends ought to know it for
the benefit oe your car-ac-ter, for
cuss me if you ever thought anything
smart awake"
Thus bantered, SUIT leaned against the
rough board counter of the doggery,
with tumbler of whiskcy in one hand
while the other sounded for the bottom
of hole in his breechess, by courtesy
called pocket-took a small sip, and
began to tell his dream. Hear him,
reader, speak for himself:
Z" Gentlemen ] dreampt an unpossi-
bility last mite. ] wur in Washington
city, an never will be thar, onless they
take me thar tn hang ur cruelty me fur
drinkin' more nur my sheer NV the peo-
pies drink, old rot gut. But in my
dream | was thar, an no mistake-sar-
tain sure-at thunderin' big tavern,
whar they rung lcetle bells to keep from
hollerin arter the niggers an maxim a
noise; an whar they called you tn
your mush by rattlin' on big still bot
tom, jest for the sake of the noise; an
whar they took thirty dimes day fur
doin' nothin' fur yu; an whar they gin
you sass enuf tn make yu fife Cat home
fur nothn' at all Darn the seat of gov
ernmcnt AM darn everybody, | say p
Tell your dream before you get
drunk, you long-leggcd cuss you, or let
somebody tell it for you"
Thus reproved, Sut shcercd into the
channel again.
Well, arter supper awhile, | nosed
round ontil | got inter room whar /
seed lite, an thar sot three fellers a
playin' ov old sledgc.'"
"Old what?"
g Seoen-up, you drotted wcasel-skin-
ned, frog-lcgged son of kangaroo.
This was addressed to young specimen
of the order intensimus Ame,fcdnus,
anti Popedtibus mmlleusinus, who shonc
respondent from K, in tights, small
cane, and watcE-ribbon, and had laud-
able desire to learn something of the
hidden mysteries Of "old sledge." He
played only on an asthmatic trombone
and "schess," when in the "scity."
"They wur a playin' seven-up with
bran new kerds, spank span new, and no
marks, every fellur fur his self seemingly.
Now, gentle-mcn, ] believe / kin smell
kerds, eff they are in motion, as fur as
from here tn the spring, or how the devil
did | happen to hit onto that that room
wbar gambolling wur gwine on? But
thar | did 60 by instink, ! reckin, an
the three fellers wur nobody on yearth
but Buck-cannon, Fillmore, and FREE
mount, an they wur a playin' a single
game ov seven-up for the Presidents
cheer ov these free an awful United Il
Pluribus States, thirty-one in number,
an kiyerin' the whole yearth. Thar
wur another chap inter that room, with
one hand under his coat tail, an tothcr
n strokin' ov his chin, walkin' about
sorter keerless like, but fust lookin'
inter Fillmore's hand an then inter FREE
mounts, an then winkin' an frown-
in, fiist at one ov them and then tother
Then he'd tiptoe an try to peep inter
Bucks hand. But the old Teller hilt it
under the shadder ov the table, and sor-
ter looked at it sideways his self, an was
a watchin' the pcepin' feller, too, all the
while right clost. His name was Sea-
ward, or Hell-ward, or sumthin ov that
sort, no matter which. Now, gentlemen,
| kin play old sledge myself rite peart,
and when ] seed that it wur game of
two pluck one, and that Buck-cannon
was bound tn be skinned eff his hide
didn't grow fast onto his bones, | got
mad as bee in a swarmin' time, and |
list thought (mind Sod nuthin) that I'd
like tu knock enuf off ov that chaps
skull tn make built ladle, ef j dard
to. lie is darncd snake in the grass,
sure. fH e
"Wcll, arter they had played out
their hands, Mister Buck-cannon seq, a
bowin' nifty purlite, Il believe, gentle
men, had high, jack, and that has sot
me six, eff amt mistaken. Then both
on 'em, Fillmore and Fremont, spread
AZ! o Backs tricks out onter the table.
till they saw his ace ov trumps an die
jack ov trumps which he had cotch from
Fillmore with the king, and then they
agreed that he ras six Sea-ward said,
yes, he reconed that was the state of
the game Fillmore then, as modest as
a fifteen year old gal, sod, Il made low;
you cotch my juice with your old ace,
Mister Buck-cannon and that sits me
three All agreed on that count; and
Fremount, leaning on his cheer back,
whispered behind his hand tn me, "and
id low it was, too, don't you think
so ? an his black nust-tuch-us twisted
up like into two cork-screws; but all