"If Yankee's agent calls while I am gone, It's my (hic) 'spress command and wish, that you Denounce him for an abolition spy, And have him hung before his note is due. "That octoroon--who made you jealous, love-- Who sews so well and is so pale a thing; She keeps her husband, Sambo, from his work-- You'd better sell her--well, for what she'll bring. "In case your purse runs low while I'm away-- There's Dinah's children--two (hic) 'spensive whelps; They won't bring much the way the markets are, But then you know how every little helps. "And there's that Yankee schoolmistress, you know, Who taught our darlings how to read and spell; Now don't (hic) 'spend a cent to pay _her_ bill; If she aren't tarred and feathered, she'll do well! "And now, my dear, I go where booty calls, I leave my whisky, cotton-crop, and thee; Pray, that in battle I may not (hic) 'spire, And when you lick the niggers think of me. "If on some mournful summer afternoon They should bring home to you your warrior dead, Inter me with a toothpick in my hand, And write a last (hic) _jacet_ o'er my head." We found this in the shed lately used by the chivalric Constarveracy as a guard-house, my boy, and read it with deep emotion. Yours, Manassastonished, ORPHEUS C. KERR. LETTER XXXVI. CONCERNING THE WEAKNESSES OF GREAT MEN, THE CURIOUS MISTAKE OF A FRATERNAL MACKEREL, AND THE REMARKABLE ALLITERATIVE PERFORMANCE OF CAPTAIN VILLIAM BROWN. WASHINGTON, D.C., March 20th, 1862. When a wise, benign, but not altogether Rhode-Island Providence saw fit to deal out a few mountains to Eastern Tennessee and Western Virginia, my boy, it is barely possible that Providence had an eye to the present crisis of our subtracted country, and intended to furnish the coming Abe with a fit place for the lofty accommodation of such great men as were not in immediate demand among the politicians. I am not topographical by nature, my boy; I never went up to the top of the White Mountains to see the sun rise, and didn't see; nor did I ever scale Mount Blanc for the purpose of allowing a fog to settle on my lungs; but it's my private opinion, my boy, my private opinion, that, were it not for the perpendicular elevations of the earth's surface in the States named, it would be necessary for the honest Old Abe either to turn General Fremont into a reduced Consul, and commission him to furnish proofs of the nation's reverence for the name of Lafayette, or coop him up somewhere in solitary grandeur, like a rabbit in a Warren.