s on our pure republicanism--who would sink it in the
political slough, and build over it the reeking bastard of a pitiable
tyranny. Stretch out thy hand, Sam, that we may cease to cut before
the world and the rest of mankind so sorry a figure. Sam! you have
sent your little villains out upon the world; recall them ere they
prove themselves great fools at our expense.'

"Well, to go back:--I began to push my way past the flunkey, when he
summoned his brass and said I couldn't come in--that I must slide
myself into costume of the eight stripe! This to me was neither
diplomatic nor polite. And being deemed impolite, according to the
rules of our Young America, I placed the broad front of my
knuckle-bones between his observators, (just to bring out his spunk),
and demanded to know what they charged in Washington for a few
knockings-down. To which he elongated himself, and with cool assurance
said it had never before been his fortune to be put through the
process--hence he was not prepared to figure up the amount. A place
called limbo, he said, was just over at the corner; that I better keep
an eye to it. This last saying gave the crowd outside furniture for a
good laugh; they, the citizens, set to quizzing me about the hang of
my breeches, which they were pleased to call diplomatic. This, I
inferred, was in consequence of Grandpapa Marcy having gone to there
was no knowing how deep into the breeches business, hoping thereby to
prevent plain American citizens making very unplain apes of themselves
when abroad. Indeed, neighbor Marcy would demonstrate to the world
that cloth and diplomacy were two very different things. And this
doctrine my Uncle Buck--all praise to his name--fully endorsed,--that
is, he proved himself the only American minister not given to
purloined crests and crimson cloth.

"'Smooth is a nine-cornered citizen in the rough: he needs polishing
down with a federal holly-stone before he can be admitted into good
society:' a voice like the creaking of a door resounded through the
passage. Being a rough sort of citizen didn't affect me as long as I
had the straight up-and-down principles within. Well, I got up the
go-a-head, and walked in steady. 'T'wont do! citizen Smooth!'
interposes the flunkey, putting out his right hand as his face
reddened into a blaze. 'Young America must keep within bounds; he must
conform to the established etiquette before he can see the General.'
Not liking to be out of sorts, I t