"Oh, maybe not," says I.

"I say it-is-a-lie. Suspend the collection, indeed! Will the collectors,
that have taken their oaths to make the collection, dare to end it?
Is there anything in law requiring them to perjure themselves at the
bidding of James Shields?

"Will the greedy gullet of the penitentiary be satisfied with swallowing
him instead of all of them, if they should venture to obey him? And
would he not discover some 'danger of loss,' and be off about the time
it came to taking their places?

"And suppose the people attempt to suspend, by refusing to pay; what
then? The collectors would just jerk up their horses and cows, and the
like, and sell them to the highest bidder for silver in hand, without
valuation or redemption. Why, Shields didn't believe that story himself;
it was never meant for the truth. If it was true, why was it not writ
till five days after the proclamation? Why did n't Carlin and Carpenter
sign it as well as Shields? Answer me that, Aunt 'Becca. I say it's a
lie, and not a well told one at that. It grins out like a copper dollar.
Shields is a fool as well as a liar. With him truth is out of the
question; and as for getting a good, bright, passable lie out of him,
you might as well try to strike fire from a cake of tallow. I stick to
it, it's all an infernal Whig lie!"

"A Whig lie! Highty tighty!"

"Yes, a Whig lie; and it's just like everything the cursed British Whigs
do. First they'll do some divilment, and then they'll tell a lie to hide
it. And they don't care how plain a lie it is; they think they can cram
any sort of a one down the throats of the ignorant Locofocos, as they
call the Democrats."

"Why, Jeff, you 're crazy: you don't mean to say Shields is a Whig!"

"Yes, I do."

"Why, look here! the proclamation is in your own Democratic paper, as
you call it."

"I know it; and what of that? They only printed it to let us Democrats
see the deviltry the Whigs are at."

"Well, but Shields is the auditor of this Loco--I mean this Democratic
State."

"So he is, and Tyler appointed him to office."

"Tyler appointed him?"

"Yes (if you must chaw it over), Tyler appointed him; or, if it was n't
him, it was old Granny Harrison, and that's all one. I tell you, Aunt
'Becca, there's no mistake about his being a Whig. Why, his very looks
shows it; everything about him shows it: if I was deaf and blind, I
could tell him by the smell. I seed him when I was down in Springfield
last