the big guns of the
partie, to fire off lies and ellyquense from, soon as the persesshun
arrived, so me and Jimmie run up there and wated til the crowd wot had
got dermoreylized arrove, and the speekin begun. The fust speeker wot
held forth, was a clerickel-lookin cus, wot peared to be only bout
twenty-one years old. He give a long descriptshun of wot him and his
partie, had done for the country durin the late unplessantness, when
the oppersishun candydate, Mr. Gilley, was to hum, busy weerin out his
pettycotes. This made me madder'an durnashun, cos I knowd the feller wos
lying a reglar baldhedded lie, cos if Mr. Gilley wos weerin pettycotes
wen the war brok out, his pa and ma orter kep on lettin him be a gal,
and then, p'raps, his hare wuldn't all fell out. The peeple didnt pare
to xhibit much inthusyism over the fellers remarks, cos he haled from
out in Oio, and citizens out in such far away and semiuncivylized
states, aint sposed to kno as much as us New Yorkers enyway. A nuther
feller got up and sed: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the eve of a grate
eleckshun. Tomorrer us free men'll go up to the poles and deposit our
ballots inter the box, and thus signify our choice of rulers. Every one
present knoes the disgraceful condishun of the New York Demmycrazey.
Its platform is rotten in every plank. Its leeder Mr. Gilley is the
dubble-extract of rottinness, and the hull rank and file of the party is
in a fit state to be condemned by the fresh meet inspector. How is the
Republican party? Its swete and pure as a new-born baby. Its leeder is
as clene and wite as new milk, and all Hay-dies culdnt find a flaw in
the platform on wich we stand." Just then I guess the devil muster taken
excepshuns to the remarks, cos I'd pulled the rope wot I'd fixed to
the loose leg of the platform, and the hull bisness toppled over the
speekers and vice preserdents of the meetin, presentin a free accrobatic
tumblin show to the amused and interested audiense. All the peepel
wot was present and seen the platform give way are feelin blu
and superstishus, cos there frade the Devil's in leegue with the
Demmercrazey, and I guess there bout rite; aint they, Mr. Diry?

CHAPTER XXII.

ELECKSHUN DAY.--THE DUDES PEDDLIN DEMMERCRATICK TICKETS.--
THE METHYDISTS GO BACK ON THE G. O. P.--THE DEVIL AS A
PERLITICKEL WIRE-PULLER.

Mr. Diry, at this ritin, I guess you're safe in hangin out the hemale
chickin, cos all the reports from thi