The Lansing State Republican

THE TRIALS OF THE PIRATE DEMOCRACY.
The gallant old ship Democracy has degenerated into a piratical canal boat, and lies chafing her hawsers at the snubbing posts of Cottondom. She is manned by a set of piratical renegades under Cotton Buchanan. He formerly served on the staunch old ship Federal, as a waiter or scullion; then deserted by smuggling himself on board the Democracy, when she was a tight, stanch, and clipper craft, under Capt. Jackson. Here he tried to rise in favor with Jackson by slandering Lieutenant Clay. After long and tedious efforts, he so demoralized the crew, that they mutinied, and threw Captain Pierce overboard, and elected him. This success destroyed the discipline on board the ship and she has been cruising about since upon inland waters, picking up additions to her officers and crew from among the offscourings of the mutineers all over the land, preparatory to a descent upon the possessions of our peaceable neighbors—
Among the motley and pirate crew of this crazy old hulk are Lieutenants Choate, Cushing, Wise, Toombs, Stephens, Benjamin, Jimmy Jones, and others, of the old ship Whig, which foundered on the rock Compromise some years ago; and the attempt to make them fraternize with Lieutenants Douglas, Hunter, Slidell, Lane, Bright, Floyd, Hammond, Cobb, Orr, Davis, Brown, Toucey, and Dickinson, has but raised another mutiny.
The various cliques have been shubbing each other till they have finally brought the old tub to a stand still at the snubbing posts, as before stated.
It is a lamentable state of things, surely. The captain sends his Herald on deck to say that he positively will not make another trip in her as commander (with the mental reservation) if they don't harmonize. His Herald was chosen for this special service, because of his peculiar capacity for looking at both ends of the ship at once. The crews receive the announcement with a chuckle, and reply, (also mentally,) 'You may be sure you won't if we do.' The Captain then sends his Constitutional organ to accompany a song of the great things he has done, and can do again. The crew reply, "Yes, yes, it's all in my eye, Buchanan!" And they drown the organ and the voice with cries of "a Douglas! a Douglas." "a Breckinridge!" "a Seymour." "a Slidell!" "a Brown!" "a Cuba!" "a Tehuantepec!" "a Pacific Railroad:" "a Nicaragua!" till finally the confusion becomes so great, nothing can be distinguished in this babel of sounds for a long while, and the most perfect discord reigns triumphant.
By and by, a brave private—Spratt by name—leaps upon the Southern Convention, with a full-blown cotton plant in one hand, and a palmetto leaf in the other which he waves most gracefully, till he gains the attention of the mutineers. Then he shouts "An African! for every man an African!"
This is received at first with most deafening shouts of applause by all the pirates, but, finally, Lieutenant Davis comes cautiously up and says, "Sh— sh—! Quietly! quietly. The 'old man and these Northmen are afraid of the Africans by daylight, and we must work in the dark. They are willing to catch and carry the niggers for us, but they must do it in the dark. They want the profits, and will let us have the niggers. Just keep quiet about—don't say a word about Africans, and you shall have all the niggers you want."
"But where will we get them, if not from Africa?"
"Echo answers—where. We will pick up 'Wanderers.'
Ha! ha! ha! good! he's sharp. A Davis! a Davis!
"Now," says Davis, "we understand each other, I think." [Yes, yes.] "Do any of you ever play bluff?"
"We don't play nothing else, sir."
"Then let me give you a war-cry."
[Go it, old war horse!]
"Union! Not for the Union, but union Union for the rights of the South. These Northmen will think we mean the Union, and they will all join in the cry, and we will threaten disunion if we do not have our own way."
How do you like the game?
"Good! good! we'll go it Union!"