The critic. (Washington, D.C.) 1890-1891, 1891-02-13
The Letter That Never Came.

The forked and sheet lightning of Ken
lucky wrath is playing in the sacred
heavens of that part of the nation habitu-
ally designated by the natives thereof as
Gods Country" A howling horde of
colonels are surging against the barred
gates of the Louisville postofiice, while
the panic-stricken =. NJ, with blanched
cheeks, is seeking fight down the patent
fire escape or perchance crawling out on
the roof.
In New York the situation is equally
portentous. The Governor of that great
State, and Senator-elect, is sitting on the
postofiice steps bowed with grief and his
face buried in his hands, rocking himself
TO and fro and refusing all invitations
from "the finest to "moye on" He has
aged terribly, and the awful suspense has
plowed great furrows on top of his billiard
bald head. The spirit of the man is
mighty deep. An anxious and swooning
world looking on at this tremendous out
burst Of popular indignation and private
agony, rage and despair naturally won
dcrs why those tears? 1t is all OH ac-
count Of
The letter that newer came,
But got there all the same.
--By0wnin9.
Now, under circumstances of great
peril and excitement like this, when the
passions of men are inhamed and hot
word may precipitate the country into the
throes of q revolution and keep us all
wading again in gore and Bourbon for
four long weary years, 1t behooves all
patriots TO be calm and to pour oil on the
troubled waters. We have deep-seated
conviction that this unpleasantness be-
tween Henry and Dave can be amicably
arranged. OF course, as an imported and
regularly ordained Kentuckian and
home-bred Tcnnessean from Bitter Creek,
high up on the north side, Henry's way
| tucky Colonel that his 'honor, sir" is
| touched. The most brilliant, versatile
and lurid of all the colonies has been
| publicly branded as 'impertincnt and
| silly" S'Deathl does this not call for
blood? In Pickwickian sense. it doubt
less does, but these be. parlous times, and
even Kentucky colonels must forcgo their
| pine in Jail. No, the handy revolver and
reliable bowie-lSnife is mot in it,"
A Congressional committee, with power
to send for persons and papers, might
make things lively for the Postoffice De-
| partment. The bloodhound tracers might
be put on the track to discover the long
lost letter. A three-line 'ad." in THE
Critic free might throw a flood Of light
on the missing missive.
The non-receipt of Henry's pronuncia-
mento by his friend and fellow-patriot was
in the nature of thunderbolt out of n
clear sky, and has played sheol all along
the line among "the boys in the trenches"
and throws even the star-eyed goddess
into u tit of angina pectoris. But suppose
instead of the ordinary political campaign
letter of commerce 'the letter that never
came" had been proposal from Boston
girl or request for an autograph. Fancy
the trouble that would have ensued!
Henry's love.letter Qove of Cleveland,
Hill and Henry, was sentimental gem,
and breathed the very spirit of the divine
passion; but it is the dead sea-apple, the
fly in the ointment. the Mordocai at the
will have to take its chances in that
dust-pan of oblivion, the Dead Letter
Office.