My friends, I have come before you today to tell you about the heinous and evil practices of the Northeast and Atlantic States and how they attack the God fearing people and their liberties out here in the territories. I see most of you’all wear spurs, have saddles, pack six shooters, drink whiskey, and roll or chew tobacky. Well, all them things cost twice as much as they should ‘cause the city dwellers back east put taxes on all these things.
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See those tender feet want their precious factories to corner the market on all you need. They don’t want us to pay half the money for better goods from England, France, and Germany. You ever ask why you drink corn squeezings tasting like panther piss instead of the fine rum coming from out in the islands. You drink panther piss ‘cause New Yorkers tell you to drink panther piss and like it. I look around me here today and I see a bunch of lackeys beholden to those fat cats. You crawl on your knees, lick their boots, and take all that money you made by sifting sand, or punching doggies, from the crack of dawn to sunset, take all that money in your bleeding and cracked hands, and hand it over to them and beg’em to let you give’em some more.
And why do those folks want all your money? They want your money because they need to house, feed, clothe and pay their darkies. Now the South don’t need your money. We clothe our labor, we feed our labor, we house our labor, and we still supply the cheapest cotton in the whole world. Look around here today, look at the fine linen shirts your women sewed, look at the pants that keep you cool when you sweat, and not once have you complained that the source of the shirts on your back came from the farms in the south. Now them Northern boys up in Mass-a-cheese-its and the like, they want to buy up all the cotton, and sell it to foreigners so you’ll soon be wearing coyote or wolf hides like the redskins. The choice is clear, trade your claim for a shot of rye, trade your boots for a single bullet, and trade your horse for a skillet. Make these trades or join me and let the farms of the south become the ranches of the west.
I reckon you’all just don’t want to see darkies out here, but the fact is you need’em. You need ‘em to feed cows in the winter, dig latrines, and work mines. If you got a mine, you just sit back and let the darkies dig, while you build a fine house, and have a large family. Darkies just need a shack, a loaf of bread, some rags, and some water. You got a ranch, you let them get the cowboys water, let ’em put the horses down at night, and let ‘em mend the fences in the winter. But let’s say you still don’t want to use ‘em for yourself; it doesn't matter, truth is, all you need to do is allow I'm here to work for your neighbors and friends.
If we have good god-fearing people in these areas allowed to have slaves, we can move the Government back to reasonable tariffs. We can stop the factories up in the northeast from preventing quality goods from reaching our shores. We can bring in Canadian wood at a fraction of a cost. Look around here today. Every board in every house, on every store, on every saloon, and every brothel cost twice as much as it would have if the anti-slavery protectionists hadn’t had their way. I’m not asking you to own slaves; I saying allowing others to keep slaves will lower the costs of everything in our district, will kick out them damn Whigs, and give us an affordable life. Don’t take my word for it. Go back east and see the slums paid for by your money, see treasury coffers overflowing with your cash, see the dirt and slime of the streets because no slave is around to clean up the mess. Repeal these evil tariffs, keep your money, stop the fat cats from selling you badly built goods at a king’s ransom. Do this by allowing slavery in this district. Once slavery is here, the Congress will change, and you can start living the life you want to live instead of a life dictated by the Godless, corrupt, evil, and filthy rich manufacturers of the northeast, and all like ‘em. Thank you and God speed.
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