The Writings of Sam Houston, Volume VIII

159

WRITINGS OF SAM HOUSTON, 1860

Judge Johnson, a leading Democrat of the day. Many were the quarrels they had about politics. But at last Steinberger was sued before Judge Johnson for his land, and he began to reflect whether it would not be well to strengthen up matters between himself and the Judge, and thus secure the Judge's good graces. So one morning he goes over, and finding-the Judge at home says: "Good morning, Shudge Shonson." "Good morning, Mr. Steinberger," replies the Judge. "Vel Shudge, how's bolitics dish morning," says Steinberger. "Pretty well, but times are very exciting, Mr. Steinberger," was the reply. "Yaw, Shudge," says Steinberger, "dot's shust vot I komes for. You know, Shudge, dot youse hash peen von dimmercrat, and I hash been von_ vig. Vel, dot ish all right, ain't it Shudge?" "Yes," says the Judge, "that's all right." "But," continues Steinberger, "lately deys been gitting to telling lies on me about bolitics. Dey tell how I said d·ot all the Dimmer- crats wash grand raschals. Now, Shudge, dot ish a lie." "Thank you, Mr. Steinberger," says the Judge, "I am very glad to hear that you did not make such a harsh expression. It would have been very wrong." Steinberger thought for a rroment to see whether he had com- mitted himself too far, and at last said, "No, Shudge, I did not say dot; but I'll dell you vot I did say, and I'll stick to it ash long ash I lif. I did not say dot all the Dimmercrats was grand raschals; but I dit say dot all de grand raschals wash Dimmercrats. Dot is vot I said, Shudge." No, my fellow-citizens, I do not say that all these Southern Constitutional Democrats a:i·e disunionists; but I do say that all the Southern disunionists are Southern Constitutional Democrats. I can speak but little longer; but let my last words be remem- bered by you. When I look back and remember the names which , are canonized as the tutelar saints of liberty, and the warnings they have given you against disunion, I cannot believe that you will be led astray. I cannot be long among you. My sands of life are fast running out. As the glass becomes exhausted, if I can feel that I leave my country prosperous and united, I shall die content. To leave men with whom I have mingled in troublous times, and whom I have learned to love as brothers-to leave the children of those whom I have seen pass away, after lives of devotion to the Union-to leave my country, and not feel that the liberty and happiness I have enjoyed would still be theirs,

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