HOW MR. LINCOLN BECAME AN ABOLITIONIST.

Perhaps, Messrs. Editors, you may recall A story you published some time in the fall,— I think 'twas October—your files will declare,— Bearing the title of 'Tom Johnson's Bear.'

Well, the story since that time has grown somewhat bigger, And has something to say about holding the 'nigger;' And something, likewise, about letting him go, The which I've no purpose at present to show: To wit, how a woodman, a kind-hearted neighbor, Returning at night from his rail-splitting labor, Found poor Mistress Johnson forlorn and distressed, In that perilous posture still holding the beast; And how she besought the kind gentleman's help, And how he'd have nothing to do with the whelp; And how he and Johnson soon got by the ears, And fought on the question of 'freedom for bears;' And how, inter alia, the beast got away And took himself off in the midst of the fray; And how Tommy Johnson at last came to grief: All which I omit, as I wish to be brief. The story's too lengthy—it must not be sent all To cumber your pages, my dear Continental. At present my purpose, my object, my mission is To show how the woodman became 'Abolitionist.' Introductions, you know, like 'original sin,' Hang on, while you long for some sign of repentance In shape of the last and the welcomest sentence, So, in short, I'll cut short, draw a line, and begin.

The woodman one night was aroused by a clatter, Each one in the house crying, 'Ho! what's the matter?' All jumped out of bed and ran hither and thither, Scarce knowing amid their alarm why or whither; But soon it was found 'mid the tumult and din That burglars were making attempts to break in. And now there arose o'er the turmoil and noise The woodman's loud summons addressed to 'the boys.' 'The boys' quickly came, and on looking around, At one of the windows a ladder was found, And on it a burglar, who, plying his trade, A burglarious opening already had made. Now the woodman, though making this nocturnal sortie All armed and equipped, at the rate of 'two-forty,' Called a halt, and proposed, before firing a gun, To question with care what had better be done. Forthwith he assembled a council of war, To gravely consider how fast and how far In a case of this kind it was lawful to go. Some said, 'Smash the ladder,' but others said, 'No, There were many objections to that, and the chief Was the constitutional rights of the thief; That the ladder was property all men agreed, And as such was protected, secured, guaranteed; And if 'twas destroyed, our greatest of laws Could not be upheld and maintained 'as it was.'' But others replied, 'That ladder's the chief Supporter, as all men may see, of the thief; Let's aim at the ladder, and if it should fall, Let the burglar fall with it, or hang by the wall As well as he can; and by the same token, Whose fault will it be if his neck should be broken?' To which it was answered, 'That ladder may be The chattel of some honest man, d'ye see.' 'Well, then, we will pay for't.' 'No, never!' says V., 'To be taxed for that ladder I'll never agree; You have brought on this fuss,' said V., mad and still madder; 'You always intended to break the man's ladder; You have been for a long time the people deceiving With false and pretended objections to thieving; You never desired to have robbing abolished; You only have sought to have ladders demolished.' 'Pray, hold!' said another, 'perhaps while we're trifling About this old ladder, the thief will be rifling The house of its contents, or, venturing further, May set it on fire—the children may murder.' 'Can't help it,' says V.; 'though he murder to-day, Who knows but to-morrow the murderer may Repent and reform; then who shall restore The ladder all perfect and sound as before? But whether or no, I can never consent That the thief and the ladder should make a descent, Which haply might hurt a burglarious brother, Or totally wreck and demolish the other.' The woodman bade 'Silence!' He cried out, 'Ho! list!' Then called on the burglar his work to desist, And made proclamation throughout all the town That if in a specified time he came down And gave a firm pledge of obeying the laws, He might keep his old ladder all safe 'as it was;' But if he pursued his felonious intent Beyond the time given, he'd cause to be sent 'Mid the conflict of arms and the cannon's loud thunder, A missile to knock his old ladder from under. Then pausing to see the effect of his speech, He saw nought but the thief still at work at the breach; And, being opposed to thieves visiting attics, Combined with those vile anti-ladder fanatics, And sent a projectile which left the thief where Thieves and traitors should all be, suspended in air, Except that he lacked what was due to his calling, A hempen attachment to keep him from falling. Then burglars, and thieves, and traitors, and all Their friends sympathetic forthwith 'gan to bawl, 'We're ruined! we're ruined! To what a condition The country is brought by this man's abolition!' And echo replied: 'Oh! dreadful condition! Abolition—bolition—bolition—abolition!'