POE--He is the nightingale of our Southern poets--singing at night, singing on nocturnal themes, but with all the passionate tenderness and infinite pathos of his own angel Israfel, "whose heart-strings are a lute." OLIVER HUCKEL (Pennsylvania) November Nineteenth The election of 1873 was the culmination of the evil effects of reconstruction. The rule of the alien and the negro was complete, with the latter holding the lion's share of the offices. The lieutenant-governor, secretary of state, superintendent of education, and commissioner of immigration and agriculture, all were negroes; both houses of the legislature had negro presiding officers; in the senate ten negroes held seats; of the seventy-seven Republicans in the house, fifty-five were negroes and fifteen were carpet-baggers; the majority of the county offices were filled by negroes, 90 per cent. of whom could neither read nor write. DUNBAR ROWLAND (_Mississippi in "Reconstruction"_) November Twentieth Fleet on the tempest blown, Far from the mountain dell, Rose in their cloudy cone, Elfin and Spell; Woo'd by the spirit tone, Trembling and chill, Wandered a maiden lone, On the bleak hill: Mau-in-waun-du-me-nung, Trembling and chill. JOSEPH SALYARDS November Twenty-First Low in the moory dale, Green mossy waters flow, Under the drowsy gale, Moaning and slow; There in her snowy veil, Bleeding and bound, Lay the sweet damsel pale, On the cold ground, Mau-in-waun-du-me-nung, On the cold ground. JOSEPH SALYARDS November Twenty-Second The history of that period, of the reconstruction period of the South, has never been fully told. It is only beginning to be written. THOMAS NELSON PAGE _Convention in Louisiana disfranchising ex-Confederates, 1867_ November Twenty-Third But talkin' the way I see it, a big feller and a little feller, SO-CALLED, got into a fite, and they fout and fout a long time, and everybody all round kep' hollerin' hands off, but kep' helpin' the big feller, until finally the little feller caved in and hollered enuff. He made a bully fite, I tell you, Selah. Well, what did the big feller do? Take him by the hand and help him up and brush the dirt off his clothes? Nary time! No, sur! But he kicked him arter he was down, and throwed mud on him, and drug him about and rubbed sand in his eyes, and now he's gwine about hunting up his poor little property. Wants to confiscate is, SO-CALLED. Blame my jacket if it ain't enuff to make your head swim. BILL ARP (_To Artemus Ward_) November Twenty-Fourth PROTEST AGAINST THE TARIFF, SOUTH CAROLINA, 1832