Better than I can⁠—well, he can have the job. It’s harder sweating than driving six cross mules, But I haven’t run into that other fellow yet And till or supposing I meet him, the job’s my job And nobody else’s. Seward and Chase don’t know that. They’ll learn it, in time. Wonder how Jefferson Davis Feels, down there in Montgomery, about Sumter. He must be thinking pretty hard and fast, For he’s an able man, no doubt of that. We were born less than forty miles apart, Less than a year apart⁠—he got the start Of me in age, and raising too, I guess, In fact, from all you hear about the man, If you set out to pick one of us two For President, by birth and folks and schooling, General raising, training up in office, I guess you’d pick him, nine times out of ten And yet, somehow, I’ve got to last him out.