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I see in the papers last nite, that the Goverment hez institooted a
draft, and that in a few weeks, sum hunderds uv thousands uv peeseable
citizens will be dragged to the tented feeld. I know not wat
uthers may do, but ez fer me, I can't go. Upon a rigid eggsaminashen
uv my fizzlekle man, I find it wood be wus ner madnis fer me 2
undertake a campane, to-wit:

1. I'm bald-headid, and hev bin obliged to ware a wig these 22
yeres.

2. I hev dandruff in wat scanty hair still hangs around my venerable
temples.

3. I hev a chronic katarr.

4. I hev lost, sence Stanton's order to draft, the use uv wun eye
entirely, and hev cronic inflammashen in the other.

5. My teeth is all unsound, my palit aint eggsactly rite, and I hev
hed bronkeetis 31 yeres last Joon. At present I hev a koff, the paroxisms
uv wich is friteful 2 behold.

6. I'm holler-chestid, am short-winded, and hev alluz hed panes in
my back and side.

7. I am afflictid with kronic diarrear and kostivniss. The money
I hev paid fer Jayneses karminnytiv balsam and pills wood astonish
almost ennybody.

8. I am rupcherd in 9 places, and am entirely enveloped with trusses.

9. I hev verrykose vanes, hev a white swellin on wun leg and a fever
sore on the uther—also wun leg is shorter than tother, though I
handle it so expert that noboddy never noticed it.

10. I hev korns and bunyons on both feet, wich wood prevent me
from marchin.

I dont suppose that my political opinions, wich are ferninst the
prossekooshn uv this unconstooshnel war, wood hev any wate with a
draftin orfiser, but the above reesons why I cant go, will, I maik no
doubt, be suffishent.

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