_The Question of the "Contrybands"--Lincoln and the Major Discuss It--The Major Tells a Story--Shows Mr. Lincoln That the Government is out of Order--Says It's a "Dimmycratic Machine" and that Seward and Chase Don't Know How to Run It--They are Like Old Jim Dumbutter and the Threshing Machine--The Major Tells Another Story--"The Kernel" Gets a Joke on Seward--Tells a Story About the "Giascutis."_ WASHINGTON, April 15th, 1862. _To the Editers of The Cawcashin:_ SURS: I've ben kinder sick sence I writ you last. The truth is, this clymate in the spring is ralely very weeknin to the constitushin. Linkin, too, has been terribully anxus about war noose, and the nigh approach of hot weather. But the great subjeck which the Kernel and I have been considerin is the "contrybands." What is to be done with 'em? That's the questshin, and Linkin ses he'd like to see the feller that can tell him. One night Linkin got a big map, an he sot down, and "Now," ses he, "Majer, let's take a look at all creashin, an see ef ther aint sum place whar we kin send these pesky kinky heds, and git red of 'em." "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, I'm agreed." So we went at it. First Linkin put his finger on Haty. "Now," ses he, "ther's an iland that jest suits the nigger constitushin. Suppose they go thar?" "But," ses I, "Kernel, they won't go, an ef they did, they wouldn't do nothin." "Wal," ses he, "no matter, ef they won't trouble us here enny longer." "But," ses I, "ther's one more resin. The iland aint large enuff to hold all the niggers--four millions or thereabouts." "Wal," ses he, "ther's Centril Ameriky--what do you think of that spot?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that's a fine country, naterally. The Creator fixed it up on a grand skale, but you can't make a treaty with it, enny more than you can count the spots on a little pig, when he keeps runin about the hull time. The truth is, you can't tell who'll be President of it from one mornin to the next, and the niggers you send there might all git their throats cut jest as soon as they landed." "Wal," ses Linkin, "that's a _slight_ objecshin. But let's turn over to Afriky. There's Libery, how would that do, Major?" "Wal," ses I, "Kernel, that country is about the biggest humbug of the hull lot. Fust off, sum raly good peopul thought it was goin to amount to sumthin, but after forty years of spendin money on it, ther aint enny more chanst of civilizin Afriky in that way than ther is of makin a rifled cannon out of a basswood log. A few dominys, who can't git enny boddy willin to hear 'em preach, hev got hold of it, an are makin a good thing out of it. As for sending our niggers ther, why it would take all the shippin of the world, and more money than Chase could print by steam in a year." "Wal," ses Linkin, "where on arth kin we send 'em?" "Now," ses I, "Kernel, I've got an idee of my own about that matter. I think they are best off where they are and jest as they are, but ef you must git red