I told him, as for that matter, I supposed I could take a glass of wine upon a pinch, even if the occasion was not half so joyful. So he had two or three bottles full brought in, and filled up the glasses. And now, says the President, I will give you a toast. The State of Pennsylvania, the most patriotic State in the Union; for though I go against all her great public interests, still she votes for me by an overwhelming majority.

He then called for my toast. And what could I give but my dear native Downingville; the most genuine unwavering democratic republican town in New England.

Good, said the President; and that Downingville has never been rewarded yet. You shall have a Post Office established there, and name to me which of your friends you would like should be Post Master, and he shall be appointed.

The President then gave his second toast; Martin Van Buren, the next President of the United States, and the only man in the country that is fit for it. Capt. Downing, your toast if you please. So I gave Uncle Joshua Downing, the most thorough going republican in Downingville.

Good, said the President, I understand you, Captain Downing; your uncle Joshua shall have the Post Office.

His third toast was the editor of the Washington Globe; and mine was the editor of the Portland Courier. But I told him he mustn't ask me for any more toasts, for that was as fur as I could go.

The President toasted several more of his friends, sich as Major Eaton, and Mr Kendall, and Mr Lewis, and the Hon. Isaac Hill, and so on, till it got to be pretty late in the evening, and I told the President I would be glad if he would excuse me, for I wanted to start early in the morning on my way down East, and I thought I should feel better if I could get a little nap first. And besides I had got to go and get the old lady that used to do my washing and mending, to patch up my coat 15*

that got such a terrible shipwreck by being thrown off the horse with the express.

Start down East to-morrow morning, Capt. Downing, said he, you must not think of it. I have an important and delicate job on hand which I cant get along with very well without your assistance. There's that miserable ambitious Calhoun has been trying this dozen years to be President of the United States; but he can't make out, so now he is determined to lop off a few of the southern States and make himself President of them. But if he don't find himself mistaken my name is n't Andrew Jackson. As he said this he started up on his feet, and begun to march across the floor with a very soldier-like step, and his eyes fairly flashed fire. No, said he, Capt. Downing, he must wait till somebody else is President besides me before he can do that. Let him move an inch by force in this business, if he dares. I'll chase him as far beyond Tennessee as it is from here there, but what I'll catch him and string him up by the neck to the first tree I can find.

I must send some troops out there to South Carolina to reconnoitre and keep matters strait, and your gallant defence of Madawaska last winter points you out as the most suitable man to take the command.—I shall give you a Major's commission to-morrow, and wish you to enlist two or three companies of brave volunteers and hold yourself in readiness to obey orders. In case we should have to come to a real brush, said the President, I shall take command myself, and make you Lieutenant General. But I wish you to bear in mind, let what will come, never to shoot that Calhoun. Shooting is too good for him. He must dance upon nothing, with a rope

round his neck.

As for your coat, Capt. Downing, dont trouble the old lady with it. It looks as though it had seen service enough already. I'll give you one of mine to wear till you have time to get a suit of regimentals made. I told

him I felt a little uneasy about taking the command among strangers, unless I could have my Downingville company with me. Send for them, said the President, by all means, send for them. There are no troops equal to them except it is some of the boys from Tennessee. So I shall forthwith send orders to Sargeant Joel to march 'em on here. As I am to have my commission to-morrow, I shall venture to subscribe myself your friend, MAJOR JACK DOWNING.

LETTER L.

In which uncle Joshua tells what a tussle they had in Downingville to keep the Federalists from praising the President's Proclamation against the Nullifiers.

Downingville, State of Maine, Dec. 27, 1832. To Major Jack Downing, at Washington City, or if he is gone to South Carolina I want President Jackson to send this along tu him.

MY DEAR NEffu, We had almost gin you up for dead, you had been gone so long, before we got your letter in the Portland Courier telling how you had been away to Tennessee along with President Jackson. Your poor mother had pined away so that she had nothing left, seemingly, but skin and bones, and your cousin Nabby had cried her eyes half out of her head, poor girl. But when the Portland Courier came bringing that are letter of yourn, Downingville was in a complete uproar all day. Sargent Joel had come home. from Madawaska and dismissed your company, and gone to work in the woods chopping wood. But as soon as he heard your letter had come, he dropped his ax, and I dont think he 's touched it since; and he put on his regimentals and scoured up the old piece of a scythe

that he used to have for a sword, and stuck it into his waistband, and strutted about as big as a major gineral. Your mother begun to pick up her crums immediately, and has been growing fat ever since. And Nabby run about from house to house like a crazy bed-bug, telling 'em Jack was alive and was agoing to build up Downingville and make something of it yet.

We got your last letter and the President's Proclamation both together, though I see your letter was written two days first. That Proclamation is a capital thing. You know I've made politics my study for forty years, and I must say it 's the most ginuine republican thing I ever come acrost. But what was most provoking about it, was, all the old federalists in town undertook to praise it tu. Squire Dudley, you know, was always a federalist, and an Adams man tu. I met him the next day after the Proclamation come, and he was chock full of the matter. Says he, Mr Downing, that Proclamation is jest the thing. It's the true constitutional doctrine. We all support the President in this business through thick and thin.

My dander began to rise, and I could not hold in any longer. Says I, squire Dudley, shut up your clack, or I'll knock your clam-shells together pretty quick. It's got to be a pretty time of day indeed, if after we 've worked so hard to get President Jackson in, you Federalists are going to undertake to praise his proclamation as much as though he was your own President. You've a right to grumble and find fault with it as much as you like; but dont let me hear you say another word in favor of it, if you do I'll make daylight shine through you. The old man hauled in his horns and meeched off looking shamed enough.

The next day we concluded to have a public meeting to pass resolutions in favor of the Proclamation. I was appointed chairman. The federal party all come flocking round and wanted to come in and help praise the

President. We told 'em no; it was our President, and our Proclamation, and they must keep their distance. So we shut the doors and went on with our resolutions. By and by the federal party begun to hurra for Jackson outside the house. At that I told Sargent Joel and your cousin Ephraim and two or three more of the young democrats to go out and clear the coast of them are fellers. And they went out and Sargent Joel drew his piece of a scythe and went at 'em and the federalists run like a flock of sheep with a dog after 'em. So we finished our resolutions without getting a drop of federalism mixed with 'em, and sent 'em on to the President by Sargent Joel. He got his company together last week and they filled their knapsacks with bread and sasages and doe-nuts, and started for Washington according to your orders.

I was glad to see that hint in your letter about a post office here. We need one very much. And if the President should think I ought to have it, being I've always been such a good friend to him, why you know, Jack, I'm always ready to serve my country.

So I remain your loving Uncle,

JOSHUA DOWNING. P. S. If the President should n't say any thing more about the post office, I think you had better name it to him again before you go to South Carolina; for if any thing should happen to you there, he might never do any more about it.