''Abe'' Lincoln's Yarns and Stories, Alexander Kelly McClure [suggested reading TXT] 📗

in his class. His next teacher was Andrew Crawford, who taught in the winter of 1822-3, in the same little schoolhouse. “Abe” was an excellent speller, and it is said that he liked to show off his knowledge, especially if he could help out his less fortunate schoolmates. One day the teacher gave out the word “defied.” A large class was on the floor, but it seemed that no one would be able to spell it. The teacher declared he would keep the whole class in all day and night if “defied” was not spelled correctly.

When the word came around to Katy Roby, she was standing where she could see young “Abe.” She started, “d-e-f,” and while trying to decide whether to spell the word with an “i” or a “y,” she noticed that Abe had his finger on his eye and a smile on his face, and instantly took the hint. She spelled the word correctly and school was dismissed.

 

THE PRESIDENT HAD KNOWLEDGE OF HIM.

Lincoln never forgot anyone or anything.

At one of the afternoon receptions at the White House a stranger shook hands with him, and, as he did so, remarked casually, that he was elected to Congress about the time Mr. Lincoln’s term as representative expired, which happened many years before.

“Yes,” said the President, “You are from—” (mentioning the State). “I remember reading of your election in a newspaper one morning on a steamboat going down to Mount Vernon.”

At another time a gentleman addressed him, saying, “I presume, Mr. President, you have forgotten me?”

“No,” was the prompt reply; “your name is Flood. I saw you last, twelve years ago, at—” (naming the place and the occasion).

“I am glad to see,” he continued, “that the Flood goes on.”

Subsequent to his re-election a deputation of bankers from various sections were introduced one day by the Secretary of the Treasury.

After a few moments of general conversation, Lincoln turned to one of them and said:

“Your district did not give me so strong a vote at the last election as it did in 1860.”

“I think, sir, that you must be mistaken,” replied the banker. “I have the impression that your majority was considerably increased at the last election.”

“No,” rejoined the President, “you fell off about six hundred votes.”

Then taking down from the bookcase the official canvass of 1860 and 1864, he referred to the vote of the district named, and proved to be quite right in his assertion.

 

ONLY HALF A MAN.

As President Lincoln, arm in arm with ex-President Buchanan, entered the Capitol, and passed into the Senate Chamber, filled to overflowing with Senators, members of the Diplomatic Corps, and visitors, the contrast between the two men struck every observer.

“Mr. Buchanan was so withered and bowed with age,” wrote George W. Julian, of Indiana, who was among the spectators, “that in contrast with the towering form of Mr. Lincoln he seemed little more than half a man.”

 

GRANT CONGRATULATED LINCOLN.

As soon as the result of the Presidential election of 1864 was known, General Grant telegraphed from City Point his congratulations, and added that “the election having passed off quietly… is a victory worth more to the country than a battle won.”

 

“BRUTUS AND CAESAR.”

London “Punch” persistently maintained throughout the War for the Union that the question of what to do with the blacks was the most bothersome of all the problems President Lincoln had to solve. “Punch” thought the Rebellion had its origin in an effort to determine whether there should or should not be slavery in the United States, and was fought with this as the main end in view. “Punch” of August 15th, 1863, contained the cartoon reproduced on this page, the title being “Brutus and Caesar.”

President Lincoln was pictured as Brutus, while the ghost of Caesar, which appeared in the tent of the American Brutus during the dark hours of the night, was represented in the shape of a husky and anything but ghost-like African, whose complexion would tend to make the blackest tar look like skimmed milk in comparison. This was the text below the cartoon: (From the American Edition of Shakespeare.) The Tent of Brutus (Lincoln). Night. Enter the Ghost of Caesar.

BRUTUS: “Wall, now! Do tell! Who’s you?”

CAESAR: “I am dy ebil genus, Massa Linking. Dis child am awful impressional!”

“Punch’s” cartoons were decidedly unfriendly in tone toward President Lincoln, some of them being not only objectionable in the display of bad taste, but offensive and vulgar. It is true that after the assassination of the President, “Punch,” in illustrations, paid marked and deserved tribute to the memory of the Great Emancipator, but it had little that was good to say of him while he was among the living and engaged in carrying out the great work for which he was destined to win eternal fame.

 

HOW STANTON GOT INTO THE CABINET.

President Lincoln, well aware of Stanton’s unfriendliness, was surprised when Secretary of the Treasury Chase told him that Stanton had expressed the opinion that the arrest of the Confederate Commissioners, Mason and Slidell, was legal and justified by international law. The President asked Secretary Chase to invite Stanton to the White House, and Stanton came. Mr. Lincoln thanked him for the opinion he had expressed, and asked him to put it in writing.

Stanton complied, the President read it carefully, and, after putting it away, astounded Stanton by offering him the portfolio of War. Stanton was a Democrat, had been one of the President’s most persistent vilifiers, and could not realize, at first, that Lincoln meant what he said. He managed, however to say:

“I am both surprised and embarrassed, Mr. President, and would ask a couple of days to consider this most important matter.”

Lincoln fully understood what was going on in Stanton’s mind, and then said:

“This is a very critical period in the life of the nation, Mr. Stanton, as you are well aware, and I well know you are as much interested in sustaining the government as myself or any other man. This is no time to consider mere party issues. The life of the nation is in danger. I need the best counsellors around me. I have every confidence in your judgment, and have concluded to ask you to become one of my counsellors. The office of the Secretary of War will soon be vacant, and I am anxious to have you take Mr. Cameron’s place.”

Stanton decided to accept.

“ABE” LIKE HIS FATHER.

“Abe” Lincoln’s father was never at loss for an answer. An old neighbor of Thomas Lincoln—“Abe’s” father—was passing the Lincoln farm one day, when he saw “Abe’s” father grubbing up some hazelnut bushes, and said to him: “Why, Grandpap, I thought you wanted to sell your farm?”

“And so I do,” he replied, “but I ain’t goin’ to let my farm know it.”

“‘Abe’s’ jes’ like his father,” the old ones would say.

 

“NO MOON AT ALL.”

One of the most notable of Lincoln’s law cases was that in which he defended William D. Armstrong, charged with murder. The case was one which was watched during its progress with intense interest, and it had a most dramatic ending.

The defendant was the son of Jack and Hannah Armstrong. The father was dead, but Hannah, who had been very motherly and helpful to Lincoln during his life at New Salem, was still living, and asked Lincoln to defend him. Young Armstrong had been a wild lad, and was often in bad company.

The principal witness had sworn that he saw young Armstrong strike the fatal blow, the moon being very bright at the time.

Lincoln brought forward the almanac, which showed that at the time the murder was committed there was no moon at all. In his argument, Lincoln’s speech was so feelingly made that at its close all the men in the jury-box were in tears. It was just half an hour when the jury returned a verdict of acquittal.

Lincoln would accept no fee except the thanks of the anxious mother.

 

“ABE” A SUPERB MIMIC.

Lincoln’s reading in his early days embraced a wide range. He was particularly fond of all stories containing fun, wit and humor, and every one of these he came across he learned by heart, thus adding to his personal store.

He improved as a reciter and retailer of the stories he had read and heard, and as the reciter of tales of his own invention, and he had ready and eager auditors.

Judge Herndon, in his “Abraham Lincoln,” relates that as a mimic Lincoln was unequalled. An old neighbor said: “His laugh was striking. Such awkward gestures belonged to no other man. They attracted universal attention, from the old and sedate down to the schoolboy. Then, in a few moments, he was as calm and thoughtful as a judge on the bench, and as ready to give advice on the most important matters; fun and gravity grew on him alike.”

 

WHY HE WAS CALLED “HONEST ABE.”

During the year Lincoln was in Denton Offutt’s store at New Salem, that gentleman, whose business was somewhat widely and unwisely spread about the country, ceased to prosper in his finances and finally failed. The store was shut up, the mill was closed, and Abraham Lincoln was out of business.

The year had been one of great advance, in many respects. He had made new and valuable acquaintances, read many books, mastered the grammar of his own tongue, won multitudes of friends, and became ready for a step still further in advance.

Those who could appreciate brains respected him, and those whose ideas of a man related to his muscles were devoted to him. It was while he was performing the work of the store that he acquired the sobriquet of “Honest Abe”—a characterization he never dishonored, and an abbreviation that he never outgrew.

He was judge, arbitrator, referee, umpire, authority, in all disputes, games and matches of man-flesh, horse-flesh, a pacificator in all quarrels; everybody’s friend; the best-natured, the most sensible, the best-informed, the most modest and unassuming, the kindest, gentlest, roughest, strongest, best fellow in all New Salem and the region round about.

 

“ABE’S” NAME REMAINED ON THE SIGN.

Enduring friendship and love of old associations were prominent characteristics of President Lincoln. When about to leave Springfield for Washington, he went to the dingy little law office which had sheltered his saddest hours.

He sat down on the couch, and said to his law partner, Judge Herndon:

“Billy, you and I have been together for more than twenty years, and have never passed a word. Will you let my name stay on the old sign until I come back from Washington?”

The tears started to Herndon’s eyes. He put out his hand. “Mr. Lincoln,” said he, “I never will have any other partner while you live”; and to the day of assassination, all the doings of the firm were in the name of “Lincoln & Herndon.”

 

VERY HOMELY AT FIRST SIGHT.

Early in January, 1861, Colonel Alex. K. McClure, of Philadelphia, received a telegram from President-elect Lincoln, asking him (McClure) to visit him at Springfield, Illinois. Colonel McClure described his disappointment at first sight of Lincoln in these words:

“I went directly from the depot to Lincoln’s house and rang the bell, which was answered by Lincoln himself opening the door. I doubt whether a wholly concealed my disappointment at meeting him.

“Tall, gaunt, ungainly, ill clad, with a homeliness of manner that was unique in itself, I confess that my heart sank within me as I remembered that this was the man chosen by a great nation to become its ruler in the gravest period of its history.

“I remember his dress as if it were but yesterday—snuff-colored and slouchy pantaloons, open black vest, held by a few brass buttons; straight