The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1861-03-21

II L don t-Well, l ii suck the Gull OF MeXl-
co through a goose quill. daughter and
applause.) Perhaps you think I am dimin-
utive tubers and sparse in the mundane ele-
vation. You may discover, gentlemen, you
are laboring under as great a misapprehen-
sion as though you had incinerated your
inner vestment. In the language of the
noble bard,
''I was not born in thicket,
To be scared at a Cricket
Sir, we have lost our proper position
Our proper position is to the zenith and
nadir-our heads to the one and our heels
to the other, at right angles with the hori-
zon, spanned by that azure arc of the lus-
trous armament, bright with the corrusca-
tions of innumerable consultations, and
proud as a speckled stud horse on county
court day. (Cheers.)
1" But how have the mighty fallen" in
the language of the poet Silversmith. We
have lost our proper position. We have as
sumed sloshindicular or chronological
position. And what is the cause? Echo
answers " buncombe." Buncombe, sir. The
people have been fed on buncombe, while a
lot of spawned, ring-boned, ham strung,
wind-galled, swaneyed, split-hOofed, dis
tempered, poll-eviled, pot-bellied politicians
have had their noses to the public crib un-
til there amt fodder enough left to make
cruel for a sick grasshopper. (Cheers and
laughter.)
Sir, these hungry brats keep tugging at
the public pap. They say, "let down your
milk, Sucky, or you'll have split bag"
Do they think they can stuff such buncombe
down our craw? No, sir; you might as
we'll try to stuff butter in wild cat with
a hot awl. Continued laughter.) The
thing can't be did.
The public grind stone is great institu-
ton, sir-yes, sirs, a great institution. One
of the greatest perhaps, that ever rose,
reigned or fell. But, sir, there is too much
private cutlery ground. This thing won't
pay. Occasionally a big ak is brought in
to be filed up, Ostensibly for the purpose of
hewing down the gnarled trunks of error,
and clearing out the brushwood of ignorance
and folly that obstruct the the public high
way of progress. The machine whirls; the
ak is applied. The lockers on are enchant-
ed with the brilliant sparks elected. The
tool is polished keenly edged and, while
the public stares in gaping expectancy of
seeing the road cleared, the implement is
slyly taken off to improve the private acres
of some A" faithful friend of the people,
What is the result? The distinctions re-
main unmoved. The people curse because
the car lags-or, if it does move, tbs at the
expense of a broken wheel, and iaded and
sore backed team. tell you, the thing
won't pay. The time will come when the
nasal promontories of these disinterested
grinders will be put to the stone, instead of
their hardware. (Applause.) l am mighty
afraid the machine is going to stop. The
grease is giving out laundering fast 1t is
beginning to creak on its axis. Gentlemen,
it is my private opinion, cOnfdentially ex-
pressed, that all the " grit is pretty near
worn off. (Applause.)
Mr. Speaker, you must excuse me for my
latitudinosity and circumIocutoriness. My
old blunderbuss scatters amazingly, but if
gets peppered it amt my fault if
they are in the way.
Sir, these dandiadical, supersqurtical, ma
hogany- faced gentry-what do they know
about the blessings of freedom? About as
much, sir, as a toad-frog does of high glory. |
Do they think they can escape me? I'll fol- |
low them through pandemonium and high |
water. (Cheers and Iaughter.)
These are the ones that have got our lib |
erty pole off its perpendicularitY. 'Tis they |
who would rend the stars and stripes-that |
noble flag, the blood of our revolutionary |
fathers emblemed in its red. The purity of |
the cause for which they died-denoted by |
the white the blue-the freedom they at
tanned, like the azure arc that wraps their
native hills and fingers on their lovely plains |
[Cheers, The high bird of liberty sits
perched on the topmost branch, but there is
secession salt OF his glorious tail. fear he
will no more spread his noble pinions to
soar beyond the azure regions of the boreal
pole. But let not Missouri pull the last
feather from his sheltering wing to plume
shaft to pierce his noble breast or, what
is the same, make pen to sign a secession
ordinance. [Applause.] Alas, poor bird,
if they drive you from the branches of the
hemlock of the North, and the palmetto of
the South, come over to the gum-tree of the
West, and we will protect your noble bird
ship while water grows and grass runs
Immense applause. Mr.. Speaker, SUBJ
side for the present,