Mr. Downing's opinion about Newspapers.

Portland, March 30, 1830.

Dear Uncle Jack—In my last letter to Ephraim, I
said I should write to you pretty soon something about
the Portland Town Meeting. As you've been sleekman
and survare a good many years, I suppose you'd

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like to hear about such kind of things. And I spose I
might tell you about a good many other things tu, that
you don't have much time to know about away there;
and aunt Sally says I ought to; for she says I have a
great many advantages living here in Portland, that
folks can't have up in the country, and if I should
write to some of you once or twice a week, she thinks
it would be time well spent. So I shall spend part of
my evenings, after I get my day's work done, in writing
letters. I don't know but I forgot to tell you that
I had hired out here this summer. I get eight dollars
a month and board, and have the evenings to myself.
I go to school three evenings in a week, and aunt Solly
says that she can begin to see that I spell better already.
The printer of the Courier and the Family Reader, that
sends my letters for me, is very kind; he does'nt ask
any thing for sending my letters, and he gives me as
many newspapers as I can get time to read. So I spend
one evening in the week reading newspapers, and set
up pretty late that evening tu. And besides I get a
chance to read awhile most every morning before the
rest of the folks are up; for these Portland folks are
done of your starters in the morning. I've known
my father many a time, before the rhumatiz took the
poor old gentleman, to mow down an acre of stout
grass in the morning, and get done by that time one
half the Portland folks leave off snoring. Sometimes
I think I better be up in the country tu, mowing or
hoeing potatoes, or something else, instead of reading
newspapers. Its true they are bewitching kind of
things, and like well enough to read 'em, but jest between
you and me, they are the worst things to bother
a feller's head about that you ever see. In one of my
letters you know, I said newspapers were dreadful
smoky things, and any body couldn't read in 'em half
an hour without having their eyes so full of smoke they
couldn't tell a pig-sty from a meeting-house.

But I'm thinking after all they are more like rum
than smoke. You know rum will sometimes set quite

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peaceable folks together by the ears, and make them
quarrel like mad dogs—so do the newspapers. Rum
makes folks actvery silly—so do the newapepers. Rum
makes folks see double—so do the newspapers. Sometimes
rum gets folks so they can't see at all—so do the
newspapers. Rum, if they take tu much of it, makes
folks sick to the stomach—so do the newspapers. Rum
makes folks go rather crooked, reeling from one side of
the road to tother—and the newspapers make one half
the politicians cross their path as often as any drunkard
you ever see. It was the newspapers, uncle Joshua,
that made you bet about the Speaker last summer, and
lose your bushel of corn. Remember that, uncle, and
dont believe any thing you see in the papers this summer,
unless you see it in the Daily Courier or Family
Reader; and dont you believe them neither if ever you
see them smoke like the rest of the papers.

As I was a saying about my evenings, I spend one
evening a week reading that little book called the constitution,
that kept our legislators quarrelling all winter.
You know I bought one for four ax-handles; I find
I can read it considerable easy, most all of it without
spelling, and when I get through I shall tell you something
about it.

A queer thought, uncle, has just popt into my head:
I guess I should make a capital member of Congress—
for this letter is just like one of the Congress speeches.
It begun about the town meeting, but not a bit of a word
is there in it from beginning to end about the town meeting,
after you get over the text. But I find by reading
the papers that when a Congress man speaks all day
without touching his subject, he makes a motion to adjourn,
and goes at it again the next day. So I believe
I must say good night to you now, and try it again the
next leisure evening.