and endured all kinds of political farcery:  now that he had become old, and served as long as the god of sacrifice, would they not let him rest in peace?  Here the General seemed alone and forlorn:  then he wept bitterly, until the ghost of Bunkum in pity again appeared and with him sat upon the grave.  The General kindly took him by the hand, and in his ear whispered something, the only part of which became audible was—­’When as President of this great country I became, I was bound—­’ Here the man paused.  A kindlier feeling now came over Bunkum, in evidence of which he motioned as if he would take another drop of whiskey with the President, or ask a favor he was delicate about broaching.  For a man who had so long looked upon things beneath him his reserve was to be appreciated, especially when viewed in comparison with the expectations of those many numerous friends, all of whom expected foreign missions.  Having chatted and sipped together a sufficient length of time, and as Bunkum was about to say good by, he turned with a half significant smile, and touching the General on the elbow, said:—­’Ye ain’t got a spare hat and pea-jacket to lend a body?’

“’Bless you, Bunkum, you are of the South!—­anything you want is at your bidding.  New England (she’s a trump!) can take care of herself; let the storm threaten as it may, she never trips.  We must do for Kentuck and Carolina:—­the black pig must have his swill if the rest find an empty trough.’  ’Thank you! thank you!  General; our States will stand firm to you—­Bunkum himself never will forsake you;’ spoke thus thankfully the ghost of the old man as it took leave of the old General and disappeared.  Here I awoke from my dream to painful reflections.

CHAPTER V.

A MORNING ADVENTURE.

“As Uncle Sam is equally careless of his language and cash, he will excuse a crooked beginning and accept a straight ending.  Contemplating my crooked dream I confess I waked up without a straight idea in my head.  The fact was, I was waked up with such an incomprehensible jingling, ringing, rumbling, and gonging, that I mistook its purport, and thought the Russians were bombarding the house.  I was about looking out of the window to see if the White House was all safe, when a negro with a countenance blacker than vengeance protruded his fizzy head into the door, and without a morsel of knocking commenced grinning.  ‘Anything wanted for Major Smooth?’ inquires he; and without waiting for an answer, catches up the bed, Smooth and all the fixins, and set them somewhat aside.  ‘Not so fast, Cuff!’ said I; ‘Smooth is no Major—­plain Mister Smooth from the Cape.’

“‘Lor, Mas’r’ replied the negro, interrupting me; ’when in Washington t’wont do to be a mite less than a Major-General.  Every man what come to dis city widout his title better come widout himself.  Our clerk what stand at the hogany counter be a General,—­Jones, the ostler, be a Colonel; and Wilkes what keep the oyster shop ober yonder be a Major!  As for Captains, they are as thick and of as little use as blackbirds.  Will you take somethin?’ The sagacious negro bowed, and waited for a reply.  I told him that being invited to a fish breakfast with the General at the ‘White House,’ I would forbear to liquor until I had made my bow.