The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1868-04-02
TIM. TRIP AND DARBY DeBB
ON THE SITUATION,

| sal OF the following rich ehusIons from the
pens of Timothy Trip and Darby Dodd,
which we clip from the Portfolio depart>
ment of the New York Metropolitan Record
certainly one oc the most ably conduct
| ed and fearlessly firm exponents of Dem~
ocratic principles published in the country.
Two OF the sixteen pages of this mammoth
journal are generally devoted each week to
letters of this kind, while the greater Por-
tion of the other pages are taken up with
admirably written editorials and commu~
nications on all the leading topics of the
day-thus making altogether newspaper
which no Democrat should be without
who can afford to subscribe for it. Bat
here are the letters, with the editors COM
ments thereon:
[FrOn the Metropolitan Record, March a1.
MosBY's LAST RAID.
1t is not necessary to tell some of on.
readers, we suppose, that Stanton was the
victim of a great hoax last week. Some
pri-ctical joker started report that Mosby,
the one-time ubiquitous, had organized u
force of trusty spirits to seize Stanton and
lear him of to some secluded spot in the
Blue Ridge, and was then lying in wait on
the Virginia side of the Potomac, ready to
pounce upon Edwin at the first favorable
opportunity. The story goes that Stanton
was SO much scared by the prospect of
falling into the hands of the great raider,
that he had double guards stationed around
the War Department, and then dispatched
troops TO guard the Potomac bridges, so
that Aosby could not get at him without
fighting his way, at least. The troops,
we are told, watched the bridges one
whole night, and then returned to their
quarters, for Mosby had failed TO put in an
appearance, and they came to the conclu-
sion that the story WAS grand hoax. And
30 it was, for the gallant raider of the BIZ c
Ridge was quitely attending to his buti-
nees in Warrenton when Stanton thought
he was getting ready to pounce upon
Washington. Our friend, Timothy Tripp,
comes In just when we are wishing for
some one to dress up the Stanton scare in
the right way for the Portfolio, and hands
US the following capital version of it:
sTANTON's LAST SCARE.
The night was dark, the night WAS chill,
All nature was at peace and still,
The hurly -burly of the day,
he sounds of pleasure or of fray;
The jester's laugh, the mourner's sigh.
Were heard no more. The starless sky
Gave not ray to light the gloom,
Opaque, impervioHs as the tomb;
Sufferers at length no longer wept,
ImPeachers and impeachee slept,
And rich and poor forgot space
The cares that hide in rags and lace,
By all Of which | would convey,
Though in periphrastic way,
The fact, with wordy trimmings diSht,
That day had yielded unto night,
And lamps, mans substitute for sun,
Lat up the streets of Washington.
But hark what sounds are those shat strike
Upon the ear and heart alike2
What means that measured, steady tramp2
ls Washington once more a camp?
Does Stuart still our pickets driGe2
Is StoneWall Jackson yet alive ?
See where light in yondsr room
Strikes like lancehead through the gloom!
Surely there's something going on there
All, Friend Asmodeus through the air
Convey me quick, that may know,
And tell't to the Portfolio.
"Up with the roof" Asmodeus cries,
And up il goes. Before nv ewes
The War Office lay open all,
From attic down to basement hall;
What though tits locked with jealous care!
What though no strangers enter there
What though "trooly loil" guard
Its sacred precincts watch and ward
With Tigilant, unsleeping care
l and Asmodeus, enter there.
Good Lord, what sight affronts my gaEe7
A quaking, shivering wretch displays
His coward fears without blush
Is it a man or what 2-''Hush, hush, :"
Asmodeus whispers, she will speak,
List the faithfully and half f-sueak."
Stanton {loquitor)-
ooh are you sure the news is true,
And are you sure he's come
This is no time to think Of rest,
l wish he'd stayed tn hum,
This is no time to think of rest,
When Mosby's at the gate;
See that each door is double locked,
IL think Pll-make him wait"
Enter a messenger in furry.
1Our EXcellency, tnere'S great noise
without, and much we wonder what it is
about. mans just come with terror all
most dumb. who through white lips Misses,
'Mosby's come.' 1t can't be true, 1'll not
believe s1ch stories they're set afoat by
Copperheads and Tories. And oh! your
Excellency, he says that you had best be on
your guard, or you will rue"-
StdntOIL---
Away. away rouse up the guard
Let each see to bis gun
Put ammunition in the pouch
Of every mothers son,
Can it be true the rebs are here?
Will and Mosby meet?
Not while there's reason in this brain
Or swiftness in these feet"
enter Sumner, Stevens and others
SteUsHs-
.'This is bad business, Stanton you'll
have but little left to vaunt on, fear, but