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12
A Reconstruction Letter.
Have your eye on the placemen, a close watch on Sm-the.
But I need not tell you how to handle the scythe,
Not you, who have cropped multitudinous heads,
And rolled men in and out of the National beds.
Keep a sharp eye on R-ym-nd; you know all his tricks,
How he's hopping around like the devil on sticks,
With his Rose in his button-hole, jaunty and neat,
And his horse in the Park and his friends on "the street."
Poor fellow, I fear that he'll want to shy off—he
Has all of the settlings and none of the coffee,
Meets the hand of one party, the boot of the other,
And still turns around like a man and a brother.
If the Loyalists' Meeting is much of a muster,
He'll be backing and filling, in spite of his bluster;
Just keep him whipped in, and, wherever you go,
Don't stay long away from the shop in Park Row.
