Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 November 1883 — TOM AND VIC. [ARTICLE]

TOM AND VIC.

ContriiiMß Tom Oehiltree’s Visit to Britain's Queen. “Escorted to the castle by Mr. Lowell," says Mr. Ochiltree, “I was duly presented, and her Majesty was pleased to ask both Mr. Lowell and myself to be seated. I had been previously warned that the Queen was morbidly sensitive about the death of that Scotch attendant, John Brown, and cautioned not in any way to allude to it, or even use the word brown." It would occupy too much space to give the whole interview at length, but the Queen was graciously pleased to “hope that Mr. Ochiltree found his visit to London enjoyable.” “Enjoyable, your Imperial Highness; well, I should pause to hesitate,” exclaimed the impulsive ranger. “I’ve been dragged out to dinner after dinner and garden parties galore, until I’m completely done brown.” The Queen looked sad and glanced at a portrait over the mantel-piece, which represented a rather hard-visaged, shock-headed man in a Glengary oap, who might have been a Presbyterian elder. Mr. Lowell shif ted’uneasily in his chair. The conversation was resumed and the Hon. Tom recommends her Majesty to make a trip to the Yellowstone park, assuring her that if she would abandon for a wliile“her old Balmoral and Frogmore and effete Windsor and try it, she would come back from her trip as bull-headed as a bear and as brown i s a berry.” “My God!” exclaimed Mr. Lowell, under his breath. “If I only had a dozen New York policemen here to kill this Texas steer as a measure of public safety. They might do it in twentyfour or twenty-five shots. ” The Queen burst into tears, but, recovering herself, with flattering condescension, said: “Ah, well, Mr. Ochiltree, scenery is all very fine. But, after all, sir, as a statesman, don’t you think the grandest thing your country has done was the abolition of slavery, and that dear Mr. Lincoln did it ?” Mr. Lowell turned pale and groaned, for he saw the hidden possibilities involved in the answer to the question. The Queen’s question gave the new member of Congress just the opportunity he wanted. “Yes, you are right, Mrs. Guelph,” said he, “in saying that the emancipation of the slave was the grandest act of the nineteenth century. It was the grandest act because it cost more lives of white men than all the niggers in the world are, or ever will be, worth. But, madam, you err in supposing that Abraham Lincoln, wise and good man as he was, alone emancipated the negro. Madam, you never heard of old John Brown, did you? John Brown, who died execrated and despised by the people of the South, and regretted only by a few people of his own sort in the North.” Mr. Lowell gasped for breath and faintly murmured: “This is simply awful. I don’t see how war is to be avoided. What shall I say to Mr. Frelinghuysen for bringing on this entanglement? War, war, war, and we’ve got no navy.” Tom had got going, and he was bound to make a brilliant peroration if it was the *Laat act of his dissipated career. He saw nothing in the plainly apparent emotion of the Queen. “Yes, your Majesty, ” he continued, “the work begun by John Brown at Harper’s Ferry, when he was captured by the marines—” “Sir,” interrupted the Queen of England, “Mr. Brown was never in the place you call Harper’s Ferry in his life, and if he had been I would like to have caught any marines laying hands on him. I’d have made it hot for them, by mine halidem!” “Oh, yes he was, Highness,” said Tom. “I say the work begun by John Brown at Harper’s Ferry culminating at the close of our long and bloody struggle. When the echoes of the guns had died away, 100,000 veterans of the army of the Potomac marched down Pennsylvanian avenue singing in chorus. I’ll try to give you the air: John Brown’s body lies a moldering in the grave. Bat his soul goes marching on. The Queen uttered one prolonged shriek, and fell fainting to the floor. Exit Mr. Lowell and Mr. Ochiltree.