bondholders,” “greenbacks,” “taxes,” “national debt,” &c., &c. A crowd gathered around them, one of whom is a peddler, who is always on every train. From him you would hear “nigger voters,” “nigger equality,” ringing the changes on the “nigger” all the way up to marrying somebody’s wife or daughter.
The old gentleman held his own manfully, though I could not understand all that was said, until, finding himself beset on all sides by a pack of noisy Democrats, he stood up and taking the attitude that reminded me of the old man Holmes, in a voice not very loud, but so distinct that half the people in the car heard him, he said, “Gentlemen, this talk about financial ruin, repudiation of honest debts, contrivances to make our government odious and our people the cowardly, dishonest knaves the rebels claim they are, may all seem profitable and pleasant to you, but when you ask me to vote for the red-handed devils, or any who sympathize with them, that murdered, in malice aforethought, 50,000 prisoners, starved my own boy until there was not a pound of flesh on his bones, and then shot him on their ‘dead line’ when reaching across to get a little water, in the only place where water was to be had, water, for which he had been famished through a long day, I beg to be excused.”
“Then,” said he, “in order to belittle these vital issues? your Seymours and Pendletons are stretching out long lines of figures with the sign of dollars at the head to frighten the people into choosing rulers who make dollars their god, and loyalty a thing to be bought and sold,” and turning to the man who had been ringing changes on this financial question, he said, “Who are the men, which is the party that has heaped this burden of debt upon this nation? Let’s hear from you on that!” By this time the man had learned that equivocation
