Incidents of the War: Humorous, Pathetic, and DescriptiveBurnett, Alfred
History
Incidents of the War: Humorous, Pathetic, and Descriptive
Burnett, Alfred
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Anecdotes
My beluved brethering, the text says "they shall gnaw a file." It
don't say they _may_, but they _shall_. And now, there's more'n one
kind of file: there's the hand-saw file, rat-tail file, single file,
double file, and profile; but the kind of file spoken of here isn't
one of them kind neither, because it's a figger of speech, my
brethering, and means goin' it alone, getting ukered; "for they shall
gnaw a file, and flee unto the mountains of Hepsidam, whar the lion
roareth and the whang-doodle mourneth for its first-born."
And now, there be some here with fine clothes on thar backs, brass
rings on thar fingers, and lard on thar har, what goes it while
they're young; and thar be brothers here what, as long as thar
constitutions and forty-cent whisky last, goes it blind; and thar be
sisters here what, when they get sixteen years old, cut thar
tiller-ropes and goes it with a rush. But I say, my brethering, take
care you don't find, when Gabriel blows his last trump, that you've
all went it alone and got ukered; "for they shall gnaw a file, and
flee unto the mountains of Hepsidam."
And, my brethering, there's more dam beside Hepsidam: thar's
Rotterdam, Haddam, Amsterdam, mill-dam, and don't-care-a-dam; the last
of which, my dear brethering, is the worst of all, and reminds me of a
circumstance I once knew in the State of Illinoy. There was a man what
built him a mill on the east fork of Auger Creek, and it was a good
mill, and ground a site of grain; but the man what built it was a
miserable sinner, and never give any thing to the church; and, my
brethering, one night thar come a dreadful storm of wind and rain, and
the fountains of the great deep was broken up, and the waters rushed
down and swept that man's mill-dam into kingdom come, and, lo, and
behold! in the morning, when he got up, he found he was not worth a
dam. Now, my young brethering, when storms of temptation overtake ye,
take care you don't fall from grace, and become like that mill--not
worth a dam; "for they shall gnaw a file, and flee unto the mountains
of Hepsidam, whar the lion roareth and the whang-doodle mourneth for
its first-born."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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