ey _do_
debauch thar wives and darters, and sell thar mothers' vartue for
dollars--but, ef they do, I'm d----d if they doant send pore children
to schule--and that's more'n we do--and let me tell you, until we do
thet, we must expec' they'll be cuter and smarter nor we are.

"This gentleman, too, my friends, who's been a givin' sech a hard
settin' down ter his own relation, arter they've broughten him up, and
given him sech a schulein for nuthin', he says the Yankees want to
interfere with our niggers. Now, thet haint so, and they couldn't ef
they would, 'case it's agin the Constertution. And they stand on the
Constertution a durned sight solider nor we do. Didn't thar big
gun--Daniel Webster--didn't he make mince-meat of South Car'lina Hayne
on thet ar' subjec'? But I tell you they haint a mind ter meddle with
the niggers; they're a goin' to let us go ter h--l our own way, and
we're goin' thar mighty fast, or I haint read the last census."

"P'r'aps you haint heerd on the ab'lsh'ners, Andy?" cried a voice from
among the audience.

"Wal, I reckon I hev," responded the orator, "I've heerd on 'em, and
seed 'em, too. When I was North I went to one on thar conventions, and
I'll tell you how they look. They've all long, wimmin's har, and thin,
shet lips, with big, bawlin' mouths, and long, lean, tommerhawk faces,
as white as vargin dip--and they all talk through the nose (giving a
specimen), and they all look for all the world jest like the South
Car'lina fire-eaters--and they _are_ as near like 'em as two peas,
excep' they don't swar quite so bad, but they make up for thet in
prayin'--and prayin' too much, I reckon, when a man's a d----d
hippercrit, is 'bout as bad as swearin'. But, I tell you, the decent
folks up North haint ablisheners. They look on _'em_ jest as we do on
mad dogs, the itch, or the nigger traders.

"Now, 'bout this secession bis'ness--though 'taint no use to talk on
that subjec', 'case this state never'll secede--South Car'lina has done
it, and I'm raather glad she has, for though I was born thar--and say it
as hadn't orter say it--she orter hev gone to h--l long ago, and now
she's got thar, why--_let her stay_! But, 'bout thet bis'ness, I'll tell
you a story.

"I know'd an old gentleman once by the name of Uncle Sam, and he'd a
heap of sons. They war all likely boys--but strange ter tell, though
they'd all the same mother, and she was a white woman, 'bout half on 'em
war colored--not black, but sor