In the year which has just elapsed, things have been
managed in a manner which must excite universal reprobation. Even the
alleged performances of the army are problematical, and--"
"I beg your pardon, sir," says Colonel Desperade, twirling his mustache
in a warlike manner; "do I understand you to call in question the nerve
of our brave soldiers, or the generalship of our great commander?"
"I do, sir," says Mr. Croker, staring haughtily at the speaker. "I am
not of those enthusiasts who consider General Lee a great soldier. He
has succeeded in defensive campaigns, but is deficient in genius--and I
will add, sir, as you seem to be surprised at my remarks, sir, that in
my opinion the Southern Confederacy will be overwhelmed, sir, and the
South compelled to return to the Union, sir!"
"Upon what do you ground that extraordinary assumption, may I ask,
sir?"
"On common sense and experience, sir," returns Mr. Croker, severely;
"look at the currency--debased until the dollar is merely a piece of
paper. Look at prices--coffee, twenty dollars a pound, and sugar the
same. Look at the army starving--the people losing heart--and strong,
able-bodied men," adds Mr. Croker, looking at Colonel Desperade,
"lurking about the cities, and keeping out of the way of bullets."
The mustached warrior looks ferocious--his eyes dart flame.
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