Before the circular carriage-way that sweeps to the great entrance,
filed a rampart of moody faces. Mr. Mulligan said they were there for
the study of Botany, he believed. Near the great portico stood the
tall figure of a man plainly dressed in blackest broadcloth; he
sauntered about as if contemplating some hopeless game of party.
Another looked as if he had just sprung from a dressing-case to
present himself before Grandpapa Marcy, in the hope of his personal
appearance making stronger his claims to a very acceptable
appointment. A third had a woe-begone smile on his face, and seemed
studying the nature of a plant that would soon need a careful hand.
When accosted concerning his musings, he said he had done battle right
manfully for the democracy; and now Mr. Pierce's only reply was, that
his demands were of so hard a nature as to render it impossible for
him to knock under. I told him that I would take the small points of
Mr. Pierce's ideas, and the strong points of Mr. Marcy's, and from
them try to work out the P's and Q's of his case.

"'You don't know if the General is at home, do you?' I inquired of
him, with as much good intention as it were possible to put in a
question. 'Know nothing about him since he's possessed himself of the
White House!--My name is Major Sykes, of the Hard Shells, New York! I
know as little of him as the country did before he was elected:--now
and then I see him smoking a long nine while laying off at his ease,
his dirty boots sticking out of the east window.' Here I interrupted by
asking if it were possible such charges could be true. 'True!'
(exclaimed he, more gritty than ever), 'true as daylight; the nation
may bless itself if he stops there. Be careful, my down-east friend,
be careful. He will sell you for a mess of corn for his black
pig. Down-east will stand no chance until Down-south gets
satisfactorily served: a wondrous change has come over the General