LETTER I. _The Major Announces that he "Still Lives"--The Reason why he has not Spoken before--Writes to "President Linkin," who at once Sends for him--How Lincoln Shakes Hands--His Troubles--The Major's Advice --Lincoln to get an "Appintment on Gineral McClellan's Staff"--A Story About Old Rye, from Mr. Lincoln._ WASHINGTON, Feb. 4th, 1862. _To the Editers of The Cawcashin, New York:_ SURS: I 'spose eenamost everybody believed I wus ded, 'cause they 'aint seen any letters of mine in the papers for a good while. But it taint so. I'me alive, and though I can't kick quite as spry as I used to, yet I kin ride a hossback about as good as I could twenty year ago. I am now nigh on eighty years old, and yet, except getting tuckered out easier than I used to, I believe I feel jest about as smart as I did when I was a boy. The last letters I writ fer the papers was about ten years ago, when I went all around the country with Kossoot, and showed him the sights. Sence then I've been livin' in Downingville, county of Penobscot, State of Maine, and enjoyin' in gineral a good state of helth. But if the public haint heard from me it taint because I wasn't keepin' a close eye on matters and things. But the sartin truth is jest here: I seen, a good while ago, how things was shapin'. I told Kossoot that the pesky Abolishunests would ruin him, and thay did, and I've knowed for a long time that thay would run this country off the Dimokratic track and smash it all to flinders. Wall, they've done it. You may wunder why I haint spoke and told the country all this before. Wall, the reason is jest here: I saw that the breechin' was broke some years ago, and there is no use of talkin or hollerin "whoa!" "whoa!" after that. I've seen the laziest old hoss that ever lived kick and run like all possessed as soon as the shafts tetched his heels, and that's jest the condishun we've been in in this country for some time. We've been kickin' and runnin' and raisin' the old scratch ginerally for ten years, all about these darned kinky-heded niggers. As there is no use of tryin' to stop a runaway hoss after the breechin' brakes until he gets to the bottom of the hill, so there is no use of talkin' to a country while it is goin' in the same direcshun. Didn't Noah preech to a hull generashun of aunty-Deluvens, and it warn't any use. They lafed him rite in the face; and cum round him and axed what he intended to do with a boat full of chicken coops, hoss stables, and so on. And at last, when the rain begun to cum down like all possessed, they swore it "warn't much of a freshet arter all." Wall, jest so it is with this generashun. I spect the _aunty_-slaveryites are sum relashun to the _aunty_-Deluvens, and that accounts for their simelur behaveyur.