The people generally seem to think that the present extra session of the State Legislature was convened for the purpose of transacting this Railroad business, and I hasten from a sense of duty to my fellow-citizens, to correct this wrong impression; their ignorance on this subject shows that they have paid very little attention to the proceedings of the Legislature.—Now this is just the way of it: I didn’t like my surname; as for the handles to it, they did very well; I wouldn’t care if I had twenty more like ’em; but the surname didn’t suit; and although the Legislature is not, I believe, accustomed to change people’s surnames, I nevertheless wrote to Gov. King, who is a particular friend of mine, requesting him to call the session and make the wished-for alteration, and leaving the selection of the new name to his own refined taste and judgment. Well, the request was granted; the Legislature was convened; my title was altered, shortened, and greatly beautified—and all at a cost of only a few thousands of dollars to the State!—these Democratic Legislators work cheap, don’t they, Editor?
This new cognomen suits me, and I hope it will meet with favor in the eyes of the inhabitants of this great Union; and if Congress takes the matter up and changes it back the way it was, the villainous President that signs the documents and makes it a law will never get my support—No, sir! not if he’s NEVER elected again! As for Queen Victoria and Lord Derby, they may cut up as much as they like—it’s none of their business.
Blab—Blab—sounds pretty—makes good jingle—it’s just the thing—the Blab’s were ancestors of mine, anyhow. The first Blab lived in Adam’s time, and had a little falling out with that distinguished gentleman about a tin cup, which both claimed—yes, a tin cup!—you needn’t giggle either; if you knew as much about the Bible as I do, you’d find that tin cups were tolerably scarce in those days. Well, as I was going to say, they quarreled about the cup; public opinion was in favor of Adam, and Adam got the cup; and ever since that time people haven’t thought well of the Blabs; that was right though—they were always a rascally set, and I believe Blab stole the cup; but Adam was no more respectable than Blab—he never had a mother! at least people said so, and folks of that character don’t stand very high nowadays. However, if it hadn’t been for that little difficulty, a Blab would have been President instead of John Quincy Adams! Despite all these things, the Blabs have been somewhat distinguished, anyhow; honorable mention was made of one of them in a book that was never published, and another one was hung last week for his rascality, and I’m glad of it; for he was a Democrat, and ought to have been hung long ago. I go in for hanging all the Whigs and Democrats, and then the only Blab that ever went unhung would stand a chance—a slim one, too, I reckon, for then that great military hero you mentioned some time since—I believe you call him Ensign Jehiel Stebbings—would step in. It’s no go.
W. E. A. B.
September 16, 1852