New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1876-08-13
Uncle ShaDmy.

intimate with him. He never had but one
intimate. and that was William Tweed, late
Q citizen of New York. now cosmopolitan.
I remember when he came into the Gov.
errors room in the old Capitol, and took
the extended hand Of John A. Dix, the re-
firing Governor. His little, thin, dry I'M
gers were all scared and scanned, and his
hands were covered with sharp, bright red
lines, showing where he had handled the
wires. / noticed, too that he shook his
right hand free, and transferred the
tangled wires to his left before he could
eet at the Governors. Then he peered
around the room. Never shall forget that
sauint-that peer. We have all in our
careers been called peers; but he is the
know of. He is the wirest man l know of.
Politics is dark. Now let any man. no matter
how much alabsster may be on his brow,
keep his ewes eternally on wires in the
twilight of politics, and he will understand
how Tilden's left eye became surrounded
BY little wrinkles and rings, screwing his
forehead out of synetry, and drawing
great puckered seams of skin toward
common centre on the left side of the canal
statesman's head. His eye is the worst
case of Capitalization in the history of this
country. offer in evidence, ~ ex-
hibit A, the Graphic's portrait Of the
defendant. Oh! but I've known Tilden
off and on for years, principally off;
always ION" where there was much
of chance and little danger. He has been
after something ever since he was born.
He has the supreme knack Of coming for
ward when victory is won and the sp0ils
are to be gathered in. Yet he never has had
leader, nor has he ever had the lead. He
hasn't the gritty stomach Of David
Dudley Field, nor the brainy astuteness
of Charles O'Conor. Still you can see
points of resemblance in the very differ
ence He's over seventy, and overdry. He's
weakened, and shrimpled, and meanlpcute.
There is nothing about the man that is
full, or awaking. He's . small, lazy, odor-
oue, ungainly, triokling stream, winding
along and among the weeds that have grown
up in the track Of that great river long since
dried .up-William L. Marcy. When you
are introduced to him, it 10 the most natural
thing in the world to say, "Why, Sammy.
old boy, how are you9" And yet he is a.
cold as 800 below zero. o that face!
that left eye! that mouth! Why, you
chewer you ever saw, just by the corners of
his marvellous mouth; and yet the sight of
Q wooden Indian sours his stomach. His
face is old-boyish and quizzical, shaved and
dressed in an odd, dried-up, funny look,
that never leaves it. George L. Fox,
poor and in Q lunstics padded cell! Samuel
J. Tilden, rich and nominated for
the presidency! What q curious world!
What nnn county, The his
of lS40 That's where he gets hard
times and reform. His speeches have no
end. They commence in 1910, and are ''to
be continued" yet he never says anything
about our present sickness. The last man
he knew on earth 1.-THE absent Tweed always
excepted) was William L. Marcy, and he
hasn't made an intimate acquaintance since.
Marcy told him all he knew, and died: Til
denis mind is still struggling with the in
formation. He hasn't picked up q pc.
litical atom since. Tilden is q spiritless
amalgamation of Marcy and De Witt Clin-
ton. That's why he's sat home" on the
Erie canal. When Tilden graduated at
law, he had rough time with his smooth
face. He was twenty-tw and looked like
q boy. He hasn't changed much since. But
he didn't know what to do. He shaved, he
watched and prayed, and it preyed on his
mind, yet he kept stiff upper lip. Tho
down came, but it wasn't up to common ex-
pectations. Then he tried bis chin. Not
. thing. Then he checked 1t. Too thin
sparse. One day he put on bold face
his Own-and asked his preceptor, Judge
Edwards, about it; said he couldn't get any
clients or fees; was too youthful in appear
ance; couldn't raise q beard, moustache,
goatee. or dollar. The judge was puzzled,
and reserved bis opinion. Days became
weeks, weeks months, and Sammy's face
very serious. He struck it-an idea. One
afternoon he says: Judge, think it will
help my case if you'll stop calling me Sam
my. Iwon't be called Sammy before folk.
Call me Mister Tilden, or even Sam. every
we'll; it is . desperate case, and III do So"
The very next day he was explaining some
political parallel applicable to Tilden. and
closed his explanation with. Don't yon nm.
derstand it, Sam. eha' "Well," says Sam,
left the judges Office, never to return.
know many other things about Tilden,
but don't like to get too personal. want
to give the campaigners . chance.-Don-
bury News.