"Why, John, I'm glad to see you. I haven't seen you since you and I made rails for old Mrs. in Sangamon county, in 1837. How are you?' "The old man turned to his wife with quivering lip, and without directly replying, said:

"Mr. Lincoln,' he said finally, 'our three boys all enlisted; John was killed in the Seven Days' Fight; Sam was taken prisoner and starved to death, and Henry is in the hospital.

"We had a little money, an' I said, "Mother, we'll go to Washington and see him."

6

"An' while we were here I said, "We'll go up and see the President." "Mr. Lincoln's eyes grew dim.

"John,' he said, 'we all hope this miserable war will soon be over. must see these folks here for an hour, then I want to talk with you.' "And despite their protests they were hustled into a private room."

THE BOY WAS TOO RAPID.

I

In speaking of certain odd doings in the army, Lincoln said that reminded him of a story.

On one occasion a certain general's purse was getting low, and he remarked that he would be obliged to draw on his banker for some money. "How much do you want, father?" said the boy.

"I think I shall send for a couple of hundred," replied the general. "Why, father," said his son, very quietly, "I can let you have that amount."

"You can let me have it! Where did you get so much money?" "I won it playing draw poker with your staff, sir!" replied the youth. The earliest morning train bore the young man toward his home.

IT WAS A VERY TIGHT SQUEEZE, INDEED.

Lincoln was very doubtful about his second election. He said his poor prospect reminded him of old Jake Tullwater, who lived in Illinois.

Old Jake got a fever once, and he became delirious, and while in this state he fancied that the last day had come, and he was called to judge the world.

With all the vagaries of insanity he gave both questions and answers

himself, and only called up his acquaintances-the millers-when something like this followed:

"Shon Schmidt, come up here! Vat bees you in dis lower worlds?" "Well, Lort, I bees a miller."

"Well, Shon, did you ever take too much toll?"

"Oh, yes, Lort, when the water was low, and the stones were dull, I did take too much toll."

"Well, Shon," Old Jake would say, "you must go to the left among the goats."

So he called up all he knew, and put them through the same course, till finally he came to himself:

"Shake Tullwater, come up here! Well, Shake, what bees you in dis lower world?"

"Well, Lort, I bees a miller."

"And, Shake, didn't you ever take too much toll?"

"Ah, yes, Lort, when the water was low, and the stones were dull, I did take too much toll."

"Well, Shake-well, Shake (scratching his head)—well, Shake, what did you do mit dat toll?"

"Well, Lort, I gives him to de poor."

"Ah! Shake, give it to the poor, did you? Well, Shake, you can go to the right among the sheep, but it's a tam'd tight squeeze!"

LINCOLN WOULD NOT YIELD TO THE STORM.

The antagonism between the conservatives in the Cabinet, represented by Secretary of State Seward, and the radicals, represented by Secretary of the Treasury Chase, was a source of much embarrassment to Lincoln.

Finally, the radicals appointed a committee to demand the dismissal of Seward. Before the committee arrived, Seward, in order to relieve the President of embarrassment, tendered his resignation.

In the course of the discussion with the committee, Chase found his position so embarrassing and equivocal that he thought it wise to tender his resignation the next day.

Lincoln refused to accept either, stating that "the public interest does not admit of it."

When it was all over he said: "Now I can ride; I have got a pumpkin in each end of my bag."

Later on he said: "I do not see how it could have been done better. I am sure it was right.

"If I had yielded to that storm, and dismissed Seward, the thing would have slumped over one way, and we should have been left with a scanty handful of supporters."

SENATOR VOORHEES' TRIBUTE TO LINCOLN'S CLEMENCY.

Henry M. Luckett had been sentenced to be shot for disloyal conduct. Colonel Lane, Colonel William R. Morrison, Mr. and Mrs. Bullitt and Senator Hendricks had interceded in his behalf.

Senator Voorhees, a life-long Democrat, tells the story:

"We ascended the stairs and filed into the President's room. As we entered I saw at a glance that Mr. Lincoln had that sad, preoccupied, faraway look I had so often seen him wear, and during which it was difficult to engage his attention to passing events.

"As we approached, he slowly turned to us, inclined his head, and spoke. Senator Lane at once, in his rapid, nervous style, explained the occasion of our call, and made known our reasons for asking executive clemency.

"While he was talking Mr. Lincoln looked at him in a patient, tired sort of way, but not as if he was struck with the sensibilities of the subject as we

were.

"When the senator ceased speaking there was no immediate response; on the contrary, rather an awkward pause. My heart beat fast, for in that pause was now my great hope, and I was not disappointed.

"Mrs. Bullitt had taken a seat, on coming in, not far from the President, and now, in quivering but distinct tones, she spoke, addressing him as 'Mr. Lincoln.'

"He turned to her with a grave, benignant expression, and as he listened his eyes lost that distant look, and his face grew animated with a keen and vivid interest.

"The little pale-faced woman at his side talked wonderfully well for her father's life, and her eyes pleaded even more eloquently than her tongue. "Suddenly, and while she was talking, Mr. Lincoln, running to Senator Lane, exclaimed:

66

'Lane, what did you say this man's name was?'

"Luckett,' answered the senator.

"Not Henry M. Luckett?' quickly queried the President.

66

"Yes,' interposed Mrs. Bullitt; 'my father's name is Henry M. Luckett.' "Why, he preached in Springfield years ago, didn't he?' asked Mr. Lincoln, now all animation and interest.

"Yes, my father used to preach in Springfield,' replied the daughter. "Well, this is wonderful!' Lincoln remarked; and, turning to the party in front of him, he continued:

"I knew this man well; I have heard him preach; he was a tall, angular man like I am, and I have been mistaken for him on the streets.

"Did you say he was to be shot day after to-morrow? No, no!

""There will be no shooting or hanging in this case. Henry M. Luckett! There must be something wrong with him, or he wouldn't be in such a scrape as this.

" 'I don't know what more I can do for him, but you can rest assured, my child,' turning to Mrs. Bullitt, 'that your father's life is safe.'

"He touched a bell on his table, and the telegraph operator appeared from an adjoining room.

"To him Lincoln dictated a dispatch to General Hurlbut, directing him to suspend the execution of Henry M. Luckett and await further orders in the case.

"As we thanked him and took our leave he repeated, as if to himself: "Henry M. Luckett! No, no! There is no shooting or hanging in this case.'

"With what feelings we all left his presence; how the woman's heart bore its great flood of joy and its sudden revulsion from the depths of fear and despair; how she sobbed and laughed, and how tears and smiles were in her bright face together; how in broken words and choking voice she tried to pour out her unutterable gratitude to Abraham Lincoln; how some of the party returning in the same carriage with her and her husband were almost as deeply moved as she was; how all these things and others occurred in the swift transition from deep distress and overwhelming dread to happiness and security, cannot now be told. Perhaps they were recorded at the time somewhere else."

Voorhees also gave the interesting sequel to his story:

"Two or three months later he was released, and the first thing he did was to travel to Washington to express his gratitude to the President."

DANIEL WEBSTER.

CHAPTER XI.

THE AMERICAN DEMOSTHENES-HIS SPEECHES FOR THE
UNION-WISDOM TO LINCOLN AND VALOR TO
GRANT GREAT ORATIONS AT BUNKER HILL
AND PLYMOUTH.

"W

HEN my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in Heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance behold rather the glorious ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full-high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured; bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this worth? or those other words of delusion and folly: Liberty first and Union afterwards; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart: LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE!"

With these words Daniel Webster, the master of patriotic eloquence, closed his Great Reply to Hayne, the most memorable and famous of all American orations.

When Webster arose to reply to the eloquent Carolinian the Senate Chamber of the United States was thronged with eager and excited listeners. The greatest question ever raised regarding the Constitution of the United States was the subject of debate. The attention of the entire country was centered upon the United States Senate, where two giants of eloquence were contending for supremacy. Robert Y. Hayne, the eloquent senator from