The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1861-09-05

and the horrors of civil war, a3d we were
undergoing the painful iuaiction of re ad
ing an editorial as to what the Govern
ment ought to do. and what it ought not
to do. The quietness Of this happy fam
lily of professional gentlemen was broken
by the entrance of fine looking speci
men of maDity, whose address was that
of perfect gentleman. His voice was
musical, deep, sonorous.
Gentleman" said he, ~ hope | do
not intrude; but [ desire to see the
Rogues' Gallery"
Certainly, certainly" said Black.
burn, in bis usual urbane style; "walk 10
sir"
The gentleman stepped forward, rath :
er gracefully, and, looking around at the
great variety of faces that stared from
the surrounding walls, he said.
II am told you have the traitors here. {"
"Yes, sir" replied a Detective; "tbey
are in that row" pointing them out at the
same time. "Tbere they are, from JEFF.
Davis down to Ex Marshal Kane, of Bal
timore."
The stranger looked steadily at them
at one glance, then he examined each
with more than ordinary minuteness.
muuhlDg something to himself, as he
passed along, Presently be turned, and
remarked that he knew every one of the
id traitors, who are nothing more nor
less than like the money changers in the
temple of liverty. They would cast down
and throttle the Goddess of Peace, and
tear asunder the God dess of Liberty from
that glorious flag which she yet waves in
triumph"
This kind of talk rather suited Us, the
labored editorial became nause ating to
our patriotic stomach, and the paper
dropped from our hand. Blackburn laid
aside bis pen, LaDon brought bis pedals
to perpendicular. and Josh. rose to an
upright position. A certain expression
Of the eye of the stranger revealed the
fact that be was insane. but harmless -
Go Oh sir; We shall be very happy to
hear you" calculated the Fire Marshal.
The gentleman made quite a speech, and
as it was soDowhat interesting to US. We
present an abstract of it; though iucohe-
rent. it yet contains some good points.
"Gentlemen," said be, Il am South
erner be birth-my wife. my children.
all first came into the light of this world
beneath the genial rays of the sunny
South. 1t is a beautiful couutry-its
mountsins, its wales, its plains, its swsmps,
all proclaim the bounty of beni6cent
Providence; its gentle winds used to sing
h ymns of peace in the branches of its
stately tree; its rolling streams, mead
dering through its ver-lastiDg hills, sang
praises to the God OF all. Obi how many
happy, happy hours have | spent upon
the banks Of the Severn river, there, with
my wife cliuging to me as the ivy to the
with my little prattina bog.
and my sweet little girls. clustering
around US as grapes pending from the
vine-there We spent many happy hour,
gentle men, whea the clear moonlight of
the Summer evening glittered in silver
.pangled beauty on the bosom of the
stream, and taught Us all to look from
that bright and glowing picture to the
stars that danced in the ripping tide,
opening, as it we're, to Us the windows of
pc eaceful Heaven The internal traitors
to our country invaded the peace of the
whole South-domestic tranquility gave
place to horror aud ruin even our minis
ter OF tbe Gospel preached hell from his
lips, and his heart was Vesuvius Of
damn ustion, belchng forth its lava Of de-
:tructiou. Armed guards waited upon
me, but | buried them back with def
ance, and impAled Que of them on the
spear of my flagstaff. waved the flag
of the free in their damning presence
but my wife, the idol of my heart, here
the tears started down the mans cheeks.
; be was terri6ed-a more beautiful. kind
angel was never sent from Heaven to
lend grace to the earth, or encbantmeDt
to life. She never recovered from that
damned moment of the rebellion. but she
died, and she now lays embalmed on the
banks of the Severn river, where the once
ge nial zepbyrs sing requiem over ber
tomb They said l was crazy. and
forced me into the asylum; but the hell.
hounds took all my property. Davis, the
arch traitor. is bound to hell fiery drag
OBS haunt him day and night. Wigfail
is a drunkard. an Internal inebriate. a
Id scoundrel, and pusillaDimous thief.
Floyd is more than doubly damned in all
the villainly that human flesh is heir to.
Letcher is a blood red wbiskey driDker,
aud Buchanan is an old fogy. Moury is
a fawDing pauper, and crooks the preg-
nant hinges of his gristle back-he bas
DO back bone. Beapregard is hum.
bug; Why don't be attack Washington
why don't be come on. and say. damned
be he who first cries hold, enoushl where
is the braggart Wise, who wanted to whip
the frementl why don't Lee cross the Po'
to aol why y don't Johnston come and lick
all Philadelphia why don't they sack
New York, and burn down Bostonl-
Where are you. ell you accursed saturna.
lian, bschanalian hell.hounds. VamplresI
Why don't suck more blood of the inno-
brrp mara nj 1gpFs