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For the Southern Cultivator. CEJTIES MUNRO AGAIN. Mississippi, Feb. 1867. Mr. Editur: —Thar ain’t no use ter deny it, for Ls jest us the poit said, some twenty hundred yeres afore this here present writer, when he said, “ times aint as they uster was.” No sir, when I kast my optikal luminaries askant, nr.d xperience the floatin’ events what ar liapptnin ever und anon, kohtitfUally, Fin konstrained to make use of the aforesaid poit’s language, with felins kin ter melan koly. ,Everything is changing, and I kant keep up with ’em. We go from bad to bader, and I’m afered there is a worser still away fernent the present. 1866 has disceased —gone glimmering—been wound up and slid silently back into the vast lumber room, whar time draps as it wares out —taint even a “ skool boy’s tail.” Kould I step back inter that thar aforesaid “ room” I’d pick up the yere ’6O and wipe out a heap er things recorded agin Gomes Mon ro. Yes sir; dont know but I’d tear the hole kontrap sion, from Krismus ter Krismus, and let Go run smooth inter 67—skippin 4th July, even. “llow, O! how ar the mighty a fallin!” But its all been did now, and its too late to cry after yer b s ar tore. Wisdom says mend um quick, ter kiver yer nakidness—be more kereful and tare em no more. I wound up at the end er the yere with 31 bales er kot ton —havin spent 25 bales ter make the 31. Now I hrve ter spend the 31 to run me throu this yere. The niggers made but little, and I made but littler—but havin adopted the britches parable, proverb, cr whatever it tis, I am try in it agin, and don’t low to give up yit—however, every, thing is a runnin kontrarywise. Tho’t I’d ship ten bales er kotton to Mobile tother day, and bawled it ter the I)o --po—a feller kum up an said he had ter way the kotton afore it kould go—that he war government agent and somethin bout rivernue. I told him it want goverment kotton, but belonged to me and the niggers what made it. All the same, he said, and waved the hole of it afore I kould xplain a thing about hit; then said that I must fix up ther taxes afore it kould git on the kars. You kno I told yer I was tryin to quit fightin and kuss' in, so I sot right down thar all day, ter see if he done everybody the same way, but he did, and I had to give that thar chap nigh on to one hundred $ ter git ther kot ton released from konfiskasion, and get it on the kars. Do they do your Georgy folks this way Mr. Editur V Has the North l usted up, and are we carryin on ther Gover ment by taxin cotton ? Somethin is rong—thing’s orter be more equil on “ the best Goverment on the yeath.” What sorter perduee have they got, they tax like kotton? May be we aint back in the Goverment yit; but then yer kant make a feller pay the preacher afore hejinesthe church. I’m so fur behind, I kant understand ther changes. I’m lookin fur a tax on ko» r ' and pertaters, next thing. When they do that, blieve I'll quit the hole kontrapsion, go out an jine the injuns, whar thar aint no laws, taxes, Goverment agents, nor nuthin else, and every feller shuf fles for hisself. Ter tax one set er folks and not the toth er, aint that konfiskasion ? Whar’s the use er callin it taxes. When me and my folks lived on Little River, Georgy, I uster to go to town —iun my han in my pocket, pull out a few thrips and bits, pay my taxes, get a re cipe, and heard no more of taxes that yere ; but now, out SOUTHERN CULTIV ATOR. here, you kan’t sneeze thout payio fur it, and its that way all thro the yere. Then, when krismus komes, they jest make a clean sweep, and take nigh onto all yer perduee. Yer kant write a “One day after date, thout byin a per mission and stickin it on. Has Mississippi moved ter Ing* land ? Do white folks git anything out er the “ Civil Rights Bill?” If so, what civilities, and whar ar yer rights? Ar “all men born free and equil,” as they uster was? If so, wlmr’a your freedom and yer equil? Yer see I'm so fur behind the times, I kant locate myself—be lieve I’m lost. They say ther nigger’s free—if so, I know white folks ar sold, and we aint found out who we belong ter —justusloshin round loose—stray dogs thout anybody ter give ns a bone. Jarushalem 1 Wish a yeth quake would koine—make a big land slide of Mussisslppi, and land her away out yander in the Ocean, sorter iland like. Somebody woud want us then, I rekon, thout 3 cents on kotton. Then, it Alabammy and Georgy begun ter crack all round and slide slowly, wouldn’t somebody want to throw on the grapplin’ irons, and may be offer a premium of 3 cents on kotton. Whoop c ! wouldn’t ther be a sha ktn er the dry bones in Kongress, and a bellowin and tar rin up er dirt by the Bulls on Wall Street. Yer 5-20’s would drap down to 1-nothins, and green backs berkomo thum papers fur kollored ehilden. This may never komo to pass—that is ter say, the land-slide; but that o|ber things—i. e., “ shakin of dry bones,” and thum papers— is as certain as Krismus, if things keeps er goin on as they ar now Aint the goose most ded whar laid the golden aig? Aint Kongriss sittin on a litter of foreign aigs, and a hachin out things never heard of afore? Don’t the hole eliments (perlitically spcckin) stinker rotton aigs? In short, (spcckin of freedom) aint the hole kontrapsion a dad-ratted skunk stensh in ther nosterls of the Konstitu* sion as it uster was ? The Scriptur tells of a onruly boy what cut up tremcn dusly and seceded from his daddies goverment. This boy arter tryin ter live solus bolus, sorter busted up and cum nigh onto starvin, and went back home. The old man. seed him a komin afar olf, down the lane, and run out ami met and hugged him ; put a bran new coat of many kol lers on him ; had the fattest yearlin on the place killed and barbakued, an 1 all the nubors cum over, and they had a big dinner, and the old man war happy, fur his lost son war found. I xpect they had chicken fixens, and a heap er other good things. Well, away back yander in 61, we down South, got ter cuttin up, and busted loose from the old house at Washinffton, and made right sharp history fur 4 yeres —we did! But then we wore out all our clothes ; eat up all our sugar and merlassis ; got ter drin kin tater koffee, sorgurn whisky and singiu “hard up,” and the hole land got kivered all over (xcept whar thar wan to he afght) with detailed under-strappers, rumatised Kommissarv’s and Masters —insomuch that the land wouldn’t surport the “ Stay-at-homes” even. These, ter gether with a hole mixture of other cirkumstances, too onpleasantto meniion now, made us all start back to the old home. 'Well, we have been a walkin down the lam*, fur nigh onto 2 yeres. lias anybody give you any new clothes, Mr. Editur? Have you ever heard of a yearlin bein kill’d and barbakued? Ain’t we all a standin at the crate, trvin ter sing Hail Kollombia, and a hollow in hell lo . fur the folks ter kome out ? Ain’t the yard lull er barkin, snarlin curs, ready to tar oft' even our old clothes, fays I, “ Watchman, what er the night? Says he, I kant see the Millennium yet!” lain yourn. kompletely lost, : ’ GEMES MUNRO. 107