his favourite ditties, "Long, long ago," and the "The Soldier's Tear,"15 while I presided over the synthetical operation of stirring in the requisite ingredients. When I pronounced it right, they all said, "It is exactly the thing."
We went around to the prison rooms, and summoned all hands to attend the thanksgiving. When these noble fellows stood round the bowl in rags, with their "jewelry" riveted upon their ankles, brought up and tied around the waist with a cord hanging in a graceful festoon between each pair, the sight filled my heart to overflowing. Though the body was oppressed, they looked like caged lions, and every face bespoke the invincible spirit of a freeman.
"Fill your cups, boys!" was the word; and they did fill them, for many had not tasted "a drop" for months.
"The day we celebrate, and the liberty of our country:" three cheers, and "Will you come to the bower?"16
Drank standing and uncovered; they had neither seats nor hats. All hands pronounced it better than the nectar of the gods, for that they understood to be pure, unmixed, and unadulterated "mountain dew," while this had the "body;" for while the juice of the agave inspired the soul, the ass's milk filled the stomach.
"Our wives, children, and sweethearts;" three cheers, and the "Soldier's Tear," from Dan.
"A fair field, and no more white flags:" three cheers, and "Hail, Columbia!"
"Old Peg-leg,17 and his yellow nation: we owe thee much:" groans, three times three.
Thus we were getting along swimmingly, when our liberty shouts rose high above the walls of the prison, and alarmed our keepers. They supposed that we intended to swallow them and take the castle. When our fat captain came round with the guard to know the cause of the riot, we told him it was a mode we had in our country of celebrating our saints' days, and hoped he would not disturb us in our mode of worship, as we did not disturb him in his. He replied, "Bueno, señor - Very well, sir," and started, when we gave the wink to Trimble.
Trimble, poor fellow! has since paid the debt, and in the prime of life too, which many of our best countrymen have also paid, and which the best men must pay for the want of bread, caused by the criminal and treacherous conduct of our own president, who could have relieved him at pleasure. The poor man has left a destitute family to mourn his loss.18
Trimble could mimic the look of an owl, and twist his head, and whoop, far better than the most eloquent owl upon the great Mississippi. This poor fellow, thus having the wink at the time that the guards came up, squared himself, rolled his eyes entirely over in the sockets, twisted his head "clean round" on his shoulders, and gave a whoop that beat the best of owls.
Our burly captain turned round, frowned, and then hesitated whether to be