Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Macon, Vineville, Georgia, May 7, 1850
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author of the Declaration of Independence. He
called him in a loud voice the worst of names,
always turning, as he did so, to a tall, very thin
military man of noble appearance, who sat on the
other side of the carriage, and who seemed to be
half amused by the fat man’s ebullitions, although
he endeavored to appease them. But it was like pouring oil upon fire.
“Sir!” exclaimed our fat gentleman with a stentorian
voice, on an occasion when the train stood still,
“sir, I say that if it had not been for Tom Jefferson,
the whole Union would be five hundred years further
advanced and Carolina at least a thousand!”
“Oh! do you think so?” said the other, smiling.
“Yes, I say that Tom Jefferson was the worst man
who has as yet been placed at the head of a nation;
he has done more mischief than all the presidents
after him can do good!”
“Yet he drew up our Act of Independence!” said the
thin gentleman.
“He stole it, sir,” ejaculated the fat one;
“he stole it, stole it! I can prove you that he
did. There is,” etc. And here followed proofs,
and many observations and replies between the two
gentlemen which I could not exactly follow. Finally,
up sprang the fat gentleman, and grasping two seats
firmly, stood before the thin one, crying,
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