“Ten years ago it came into my head that things weren’t going on right; so I pretty nearly gave myself up tee-totally to the good of the republic, and left the shop to look out for itself. I was brimfull of patriotism, and so uneasy in my mind for the salivation of freedom, I couldn’t work. I tried to guess which side was going to win, and I stuck to it like wax; sometimes I was a-one side, sometimes I was a-tother, and sometimes I straddled till the election was over, and came up jist in time to jine the hurrah. It was good I was after; and what good could I do if I wasn’t on the ’lected side? But, after all, it was never a bit of use. Whenever the battle was over, no matter what side was sharing out the loaves and the fishes, and I stepped up, I’ll be hanged if they didn’t cram all they could into their own mouths, put their arms over some, and grab at all the rest with their paws, and say, ‘Go away, white man, you ain’t capable.’ Capable! what’s the reason I ain’t capable? I’ve got as extensive a throat as any of ’em, and I could swallow the loaves and fishes without choking, if each loaf was as big as a grindstone and each fish as big as a sturgeon. Give Peter a Chance, and leave him alone for that. Then, another time when I called—‘I want some spoils,’ says I; ‘a small bucket full of spoils. Whichever side gets in, shares the spoils, don’t they?’ So they first grinned, and then they ups and tells me that virtue like mine was its own reward, and that spoils might spoil me. But it was _no_ spoils that spoilt me, and _no_ loaf and fish that starved me—I’m spoilt because I couldn’t get either. Put not your trust in politicianers—I say it agin. Both sides used me jist alike. “Here I’ve been serving my country, more or less, these ten years, like a patriot—going to town meetings, hurraing my daylights out, and getting as blue as blazes—blocking the windows, getting licked fifty times, and having more black eyes and bloody noses than you could shake a stick at, all for the common good, and for the purity of our illegal rights—and all for what? Why, for nix. If any good has come of it, the country has put it into her own pocket, and swindled me out of my arnings. I can’t get no office! Republics is ungrateful! It wasn’t reward I was after. I scorns the base insinivation. I only wanted to be took care of, and have nothing to do but to take care of the public, and I’ve only got half—nothing to do! Being took care of was the main thing. Republics _is_ ungrateful; I’m swaggered if they ain’t. This is the way old sojers is served.” Peter, having thus unpacked his o’erfraught heart, heaved a sigh or two, as every one does after a recapitulation of their own injuries, and remained for a few minutes wrapped in abstraction.