Now this I thought a fees’ble plan, thet ’ud work smooth ez grease,
  Suitin’ the Nineteenth Century an’ Upper Ten idees,
  An’ there I meant to stick, an’ so did most o’ th’ leaders, tu,
  Coz we all thought the chance wuz good o’ puttin’ on it thru;
  But Jeff he hit upon a way o’ helpin’ on us forrard
  By bein’ unannermous,—­a trick you ain’t quite up to, Norrard. 
  A baldin hain’t no more ’f a chance with them new apple-corers
  Than folks’s oppersition views aginst the Ringtail Roarers;
  They’ll take ’em out on him ’bout east,—­one canter on a rail
  Makes a man feel unannermous ez Jonah in the whale;
  Or ef he’s a slow-moulded cuss thet can’t seem quite t’ agree,
  He gits the noose by tellergraph upon the nighes’ tree: 
  Their mission-work with Afrikins hez put ’em up, thet’s sartin,
  To all the mos’ across-lot ways o’ preachin’ an’ convartin’;
  I’ll bet my hat th’ ain’t nary priest, nor all on ’em together,
  Thet cairs conviction to the min’ like Reveren’ Taranfeather;
  Why, he sot up with me one night, an’ labored to sech purpose,
  Thet (ez an owl by daylight ‘mongst a flock o’ teazin’ chirpers
  Sees clearer ‘n mud the wickedness o’ eatin’ little birds)
  I see my error an’ agreed to shen it arterwurds;
  An’ I should say, (to jedge our folks by facs in my possession,)
  Thet three’s Unannermous where one’s a ’Riginal Secession;
  So it’s a thing you fellers North may safely bet your chink on,
  Thet we’re all water-proofed agin th’ usurpin’ reign o’ Lincoln.

  Jeff’s some.  He’s gut another plan thet hez pertic’lar merits,
  In givin’ things a cherfle look an’ stiffnin’ loose-hung sperits;
  For while your million papers, wut with lyin’ an’ discussin’,
  Keep folks’s tempers all on eend a-fumin’ an’ a-fussin’,
  A-wondrin’ this an’ guessin’ thet, an’ dreadin’, every night,
  The breechin’ o’ the Univarse’ll break afore it’s light,
  Our papers don’t purtend to print on’y wut Guv’ment choose,
  An’ thet insures us all to git the very best o’ noose: 
  Jeff hez it of all sorts an’ kines, an’ sarves it out ez wanted,
  So’s’t every man gits wut he likes an’ nobody ain’t scanted;
  Sometimes it’s vict’ries, (they’re ‘bout all ther’ is thet’s cheap
      down here,)
  Sometimes it’s France an’ England on the jump to interfere. 
  Fact is, the less the people know o’ wut ther’ is a-doin’,
  The hendier ‘t is for Guv’ment, sence it henders trouble brewin’;
  An’ noose is like a shinplaster,—­it’s good, ef you believe it,
  Or, wut’s all same, the other man thet’s goin’ to receive it: 
  Ef you’ve a son in th’ army, wy, it’s comfortin’ to hear
  He’ll hev no gretter resk to run than seein’ th’ in’my’s rear,
  Coz, ef an F.F. looks at ’em, they ollers break an’ run,
  Or wilt right down ez debtors will thet stumble on a dun
  (An’ this, ef an’thin’,