come up; it be a great anecdote for what mas'r call de blues.' The
interpretation of what the negro said was that it made a man feel as
if he had the best office in Mr. Pierce's gift safe in his
pocket. Having a reasonable appreciation of a negro's statement, I
consented on the ground of its good qualities--thus represented--to
take a little. The negro left, but soon returned with it in his
hand--all bittered and iced. Down it went, plump!--it cut away the
cobwebs, made my inards fizzle, and the whole frame feel as lively as
a bee-hive. The negro said it was good--and I said I reckoned. And
then I 'turned out,' as they call it, broadside on. 'Great kingdom,'
exclaimed the negro, giving me a slanting look from head to foot;
'why, mas'r, dey must a growed ye in a guano country.'

"'Cuff! don't be sassy,' I replied. And then he very good-naturedly
commenced arranging my homespun. He fussed over me as if I were a mere
substance to be transformed into anything Mr. Pierce might
require. Then, to my utter astonishment, he apprised me of the fact of
General Cass having carried off my boots and breeches--adding that it
was a sort of mania with him, and for which he was not morally
accountable. Then the negro began quizzing my person. One of my legs,
he said, was hard shell, the other a soft shell; however, to reconcile
the matter, he further added that the embodiment was exactly suited to
Mr. Pierce's principles, inasmuch as he could go between--which he
always aimed to do. He then said I must have pantaloons of the right
stripe; because in Washington a man must look genteel, and have his
understandings straight. It was no excuse that the General himself was
an undecided Democrat; if he was round in some things, he was square
in others,--that is he was round in policy, and square in periods. The
Negro said he did not look so much at the cut of the pantaloons as the
quality of the cloth, and its tenacity for stretching--according to