The Man That Knew ’em All
by
If you have ever “been around” some, and taken notice of things, you have doubtless seen the man who knows pretty much every thing and every body!
I’ve seen them frequently. As the old preacher observed to a venerable lady, in reference to forerunners, “I see ’em now.” Well, talking of that rare and curious specimen of the human family, the man that knows every body, I’ve rather an amusing reminiscence of “one of ’em.” Stopping over night at the Virginia House, in that jumping off place of Western Virginia, Wheeling, some years ago, I had the pleasure or pastime of meeting several of the big guns of the nation, on their way from Washington city, home. It was in August, I think, when, as is most generally the case, the Ohio river gets monstrous low and feeble; when all of the large steamers are past getting up so far, and travelling down the river becomes quite amusing to amateurs, and particularly tedious and monotonous to business people, bound home. Three hundred travellers, more or less, were laying back at the “Virginia” and “United States,” in the aforesaid hardscrabble of a city, or town, waiting for the river to get up, or some means for them to get down.
The session of Congress had closed at Washington, some time before, and as almost all of the M. C.’s, U. S. S.’s, wire pullers, hangers on, blacklegs, horse jockeys, etc., etc., came over “the National Road” to Wheeling, to take the river for Southern and Western destinations, of course the assemblage at that place, at that time, was promiscuous, and quite interesting; at least, Western and Southern men always make themselves happy and interesting, home or abroad, and particularly so when travelling. It was a glorious thing for the proprietors of the hotels, to have such a host of guests, as a house full of company always is a “host,” the guests having nothing else to do but lay back, eat, drink, and be merry, and foot the bills when ready, or when opportunity offers, to—- go.
They drank and smoked, and drank again, and told jests, and played games and tricks, and thus passed the time along. Among the multitude was one of those ever-talkative and chanting men of the world, who knew all places and all men–as he would have it. Just after removing the cloth, at dinner, a knot of the old jokers, bacchanalians and wits, settled away in a cluster, at the far end of a long table, and were having a very pleasant time. The man of all talk was there; he was the very nucleus of all that was being said or done. He was from below, somewhere, on his way, as he informed the crowd, to Washington city, upon affairs of no slight importance to himself and the country in general.
“Oho!” says one of the party, a sly, winking, fat and rosy gentleman, whom we shall designate hereafter, “you’re bound to the capital, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” responded the man of all talk.
“Of course you’ve been there before?” says the interrogator, nudging a friend, and winking at the rest.
” What? Me been in Washington before? Ha, ha! me been there before! Bless you, me been in Washington city!”
“Oho! ha, ha!” says the interrogator, “you’re one of the caucus folks, eh? One of them wire pullers we read about, eh?”
” Me? Caucus? Ha, ha! Mum’s the word, gents, (looking killingly cunning.) Come, gentlemen, let’s fill up. Ha, ha! me pulling the–ha, ha! Well, here’s to the old Constitution; let’s hang by her, while there’s a–a–a button on Jabe’s coat.”
And they all responded, of course, to this eloquent sentiment.
“Here’s to Jabe’s buttons, coat, hat, and breeches.”