"Well," says I, "maybe he is; but, if he is, I'm mistaken the worst sort. Maybe so, maybe so; but, if I am, I'll suffer by it; I'll be a Democrat if it turns out that Shields is a Whig; considerin' you shall be a Whig if he turns out a Democrat." "A bargain, by jingoes!" says he; "but how will we find out?" "Why," says I, "we'll just write, and ax the printer." "Agreed again!" says he; "and, by thunder! if it does turn out that Shields is a Democrat, I never will"-- "Jefferson,--Jefferson"-- "What do you want, Peggy?" "Do get through your everlasting clatter sometime, and bring me a gourd of water: the child's been crying for a drink this live-long hour." "Let it die, then: it may as well die for water as to be taxed to death to fatten officers of State." Jeff run off to get the water, though, just like he hadn't been sayin' any thing spiteful; for he's a raal good-hearted fellow, after all, once you get at the foundation of him. I walked into the house, and "Why, Peggy," says I, "I declare, we like to forgot you altogether." "Oh, yes!" says she, "when a body can't help themselves, everybody soon forgets'em; but, thank God! by day after to-morrow I shall be well enough to milk the cows, and pen the calves, and wring the contrary ones' tails for'em, and no thanks to nobody." "Good-evening, Peggy," says I; and so I sloped, for I seed she was mad at me for making Jeff neglect her so long. And now, Mr. Printer, will you be sure to let us know in your next paper whether this Shields is a Whig or a Democrat? I don't care about it for myself, for I know well enough how it is already; but I want to convince Jeff. It may do some good to let him, and others like him, know who and what those officers of State are. It may help to send the present hypocritical set to where they belong, and to fill the places they now disgrace with men who will do more work for less pay, and take a fewer airs while they are doing it. It ain't sensible to think that the same men who get us into trouble will change their course; and yet it's pretty plain, if some change for the better is not made, it's not long that either Peggy or I, or any of us, will have a cow left to milk, or a calf's tail to wring. Yours, truly, Rebecca------.