Norwich Bulletin Newspaper, February 12, 1909, Page 9

. - STORIES OF ABRABAM LINCOLN ; Took First Prize. it has been that the grandest heritage of any nation is the lives and deeds of its noblest sons, #who have sacrificed even life itself that the na- tion might live. Our country is rich In the herolc men who have toiled and struggled in the cauge of patriotism, but in none more se than in Abraham Lincoln. The story of his life is familiar to wll, but there are many anecdotes and fncidents known only to his most inti- sngte friends. - Lincoln and a judge were one day Jjoking each other on horse trades, and finally agreed to meet next day to make a‘trade. The horses were to re- main unseen up to that hour. Neither was to withdraw from the agreement under Forfeiture of twenty-five dollars. 'When the mamed hour approached, the udge came up first, leading the worst' looking animal he had been able to find. He had been to the appointed. place but a short time when Lincoln tame up, bringing a dilapidated wood - en gaw-horse. When Lingoln had crifg- fcally surveyed the judge’'s horse, lae xclaimed, “Well, judge, I must say, fhh is the first time in my life I ever @ot the worst of a horse frade,” ‘When Mr. Lincoln first began te prac- tice law, he had occasion to make use of his ready wit in defense of a friend’s son, who was accused ‘of mur- der. " At the trial one witness swjore that he saw the murder commitfted. “Might you not be mistaken?” asked incoln. “A dim light is -decemtive, end it was a dark night.” The “eye witness” hastened to reply that it was moonlight, whereupon Lincoln, *%aking an almanac from his pocket, safid: “*It §s not necessary for me to make a plea, for no jury can place any.reliane on a witness who will swear that it was a moonlight night, when the ralmanac proves it was dark.” The young pris- oner was acquitted, President Lincoln was fndeerd a “man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” e once said during the war: “I shall xever be happy any more.” jAany peo- le came to him to ask yardon for heir friends, and he was aliyays ready to save life if it was possibJe. Twenty- four deserters were senteinced to bhe shot. The president refwsed to sign the warrants for their exgcution. An army officer told him that unless these men were made an exarnpue of, the arny itself would be in danger. He repiied “Mr. General, ‘there age al- ready too many weeping widows In the TUnited States. For God!s sake, don't ask me to add to the number, for I won't do it One of his last acts was to pardon B voung man who had gone out to epend the evening, had fallen into bad company and had failed to reach his regiment bhefore it le¢ft the city. He was gentenced to be slhot for desertion. s he signed the pardion, while an odd smile lit up his =ad, liomely face, Pres- fdent Lincoln said: “Well, I think the boy can do us more good above ground than under ground.” The day after thg capture of Rich- guond, Mr, Lineoln set out alone to walk through the city. As soon as this was discovered a body guard was ordered to escort the president, but he hud a good staft.and & long stride be had already” corpered several miles Wwhen he was ovérvaken. What a con- ¢rast hetween other great conquerers, n ing at the head of their triumph- ant troops in the captured cities of their defeated ensnies, and this con- quering le; r of a great nation, en- tering the capital of the vanquished, elone, in as simphe and modest a man- mer as the humbhist citizen who eager- Iy waited to see Wim! With-an army to eferred to enter the gates of the sulrdued city as a fellow- couniryman—syinpathizing with them | In their sorrow and defeat, “with maly | fce toward none and charity for all.” Abraham Lincoln as a Man. % nd Prize.) to place a correct character of Lin- (Tool It i not diff estimate upon ult the eoln. He wayg the greatest man of his ¢ime, especially approved of God for the work he smve them to do. It is now a hundred years since this American henp was born, but the name of Abraham Lincoln will never cease. Each generatfon wil] bave a better un. ergtanding of him than we have, hough he is not far removed from us. He was b the blessed Inherit- mnce of pove and it is from the soil ©f poverty that the highest virtues gpring. He did wol have any advantages, gnd his suriou igs were such in his ®oyhood da that they did not ex- wite ambitbon for an education, and E' went vegy little to common school; at gradumted from that grand col- ge of frem-labor whose works were the flatbomts, the farin and the back- woods lasvyer's office. But he strug- Jed to get an education, every book e heard, about he obtained, even walking #twelve miles to get one, and #f damaged he split rails to pay for it, The eiement of his greatness that ade hitn master of the greatest crisis ?l our history are that he had the true aith of the people, He walked with and among them. In ull he did he in- wited them rather than evaded them o crityeismn and exainination. Lin- oln louked right inte their. souls, and ad thait peculiarity which few public en hawe attained, of looking away thve deceptive and misleading ings about him, determining for Rimself what the people wanted him ¢o do; mnd no one was a more accurate e of their opinions and wishes. He d not show his guperiority even to ¢he humblest ne but geeply sym- thizéd with him. The poer widow, e sokdier on the pattlefleld, sufferers fn hompitals, all knew of his kind love. One of his most remarkable traits was Itis honesty. Honesty was the framework of his mental and moral | countries. Yet when the crisis came | Lincoln managed the country so well that made him the equal, if not the superior, Tn statesmanship, to Wash- ington. Lincoln died as he lived, pure and simple, and his example will forever remain a shining light for every true ower. When a clerk in a store he ad made a mistake of six cents and malked three iniles to redeem it. Lincoln was a man of peace, and felt that even in the most righteous cause war was a fearful thing. He ave the 'south every chance possi- le, and pleaded with them with an earnesness that was pathetic. War came, he accepted it to save the un- don. This was his main purpose— mnothing else mattered, Havimg a keen insight into the future he foresaw that the country could not #Femadm half-slave and half-free, long before he becamé president. The crowning glory of his presidency and the greatest executive act in the world's history was the Proclamation of Emancipation. Many long and thorny steps had to be taken to issue it Great and strong men had urged him to issue it long before he did, and equally great and strong men had urged him to delay its issue. He therefore stood alone and acted for Mmself. To him is given the honor of tulfilling the Declaration of Independ- ence. ‘When a boy, he hiad visited a slave suction in New Orleans, and there re- marked: “If I ever get a chance to hit that thing I'l hit it hard.” He €id hit it hard, when, as a member of e wnm. he protested that slav- woted for the Wiimot proviso as good s forty times. He hit it hardest in bis Pmancipation Proclamation. Abraham Lincoln had high ldeals ~ LINCOLN MEDALS FOR THE 238 WRITERS and had a dtermination to fuifil them. He wag honest in all dealings, a pure patriot, of an unselfish nature, full of forglveness to his enemies, With his kind. deeds he won the hearts of the peaple and became our martyred pres- idenit. To him belongs the credit of worrking up from the humblest posi- tion to the highest one. Let Abraham Lincoln’s life make an imprirt on each of ours to work up and not down, regardless of surroundings. To be loyal to ourselves and human- ity, even the poor slave in his shackles and whatever rank we attain, even the resident’s chair, be not bribed, for we ave no bargains to make, Lincoln the Emsncipator. (Took Third Prize.) If we pick up an American history we see engraved on its choicest pages the name of Abraham Lincoln. What were the traits of this lean, angular, yellow-faced n that made him the best loved president and the greatest orator of his time? He was a plain, honest and everyday man, who trusted in the people, and in turn was trusted by the people. Lincoln believed with all the strength of his mighty soul in the institutions of his country, and also in the injustice of slavery. When the crisis came Lincoln, although by nature peaceful, threw himself heart and soul into the grand cause. He was a true type of the self-made American. Born in poverty and squalor, Lincoln overcame almost in- surmountable obstacles, and when only & boy learned to read and cipher, to think and declaim in a manner far beyond his years. Misfortune only spurred him on to “further effort, and although Lincoln might have only one dollar and no prospect of getting more, he would struggle on, and finally won the mastery of English, surveying and the law. ~'Where did Lincoln master that grand eloquence that enabled him to sway strong minds like reeds in a breeze Only in the rough school of experi- ence. ‘When the great crisis of our country came he d@id not hesitate, but tried with all his might to force the rebell- ing states back to their original places in the union, as he believed in the right of his country to do this. Well did he succeed, for generation upon generation of people will bless the hand that broke slavery’'s bonds for- ever. He expressed these game thoughts in that immortal Gettysburg address, when he said- that “all men, both black and white, were created equal and that the government of the peo- ple, by the people, would not perish,” and so eloquently did he speak that men, roughened by fighting, were moved, and Lincoln, “the uneducated farmer,” with all the simplicity of the Bible made these words stanfi out im- mortally as the resul of American perseveranee¢ and pluck | When finally the end came, Lincoln received his chastened countrymen with such mercy and respect that all | marveled. The result was that the seceding states were again established in their ginal places in the union and a more perfect confederation was established without slavery within its borders. In the anpals of our country the names of Lincoin and Washington stand side by slde as the two great- est Americans that our country has ever produced. Washington's name is associated with the freeing of a cown- trodden people and the establishment n. Lincoln's is linked with rom bondage of a peopls fault was their color and on of that same union | on had tried so hard to | reconstru h Washin: wh establisi and perfect Washington was rich, education and a large rring countries their critical periods. Lincoln was poor, had com- paratively little education and smail experience in governing men, let ajone had a good experience in American to imitate, Two Abrahams. (Took Fourth Prize.) Abraham Lincoln Johnson, his small negro face wearing a look .of the most despondency rudged ward in the gathering twil kt—in his mind but one thought—food, he must have food. for Mammy was dying “Plenty ' of nourishment,” the "doctor had gald that morning as he turned his back on the tumbled-cown house, pocketing without a flutter of con- science the dollars handed him by the boy. With a choking scb, honest young Abe had hurried back to the bedside of his Mammy. JFor mon:ihs he had laid by every hard-earned penny, for, | some future time, indefinite, m tical, but always sure, he would go to school and lea bout those strange | things called edom,” and the| “Rights of the Black Man.” All had gone well until his ' went “to fight in the Rebellion,” aud Abraham’s gervices were no longer required. From that day Abe Johnson, too, had fought! in a rebellion—a rebellion of three for life and flood. v had fought bravely, he and his mother, and his four-year-old. brother, but two were down, and Abraham alone remained to fight for all. Tenth street was reachied, but the tired young soldier could do no more. | With a heart-broken . he leaned his | starved little frame against a friendly street lamp, the most accommodating | thing yet discovered. and burst into tears. All the agony- of the past weeks, all the discouragement of the present moment were poured into thati{ boyish outbreak. But no one stopped, no one bestowed more than a passing | glance upon the desolate picture, Not so with a certain fieure, tall gaunt, and awkward, that, with down- cast head and drooping shoulers paced sorrowfully om in the light of the street lamps. A man, sad in spirit, whose homely face, as it passed be- neath a light, piainly bore the signs of a great inward struggle. Ieep-set, tired-looking eyes, a great pain and a great sorrow iIn their depths ,gazed out from beneath bushy eyvebrows. Awkwardly, with hands hanging loose- ly at his sidés, Abraham Lincoln the First strode steadily on. Suddenly that weary head is lifted. Straining forward the president listens intently—he has caught the sound a sob. -He hears another soul in trou- ble calling out to him in the dark- ness, and, with a few ungainly strides, heé has reached the side of the nego ad. It is over in 2 second! The long arms have reached down and gath- ered the tiny fragment of humanity up into their close and loving embrace. Abraham Lincoln Johnson gazes deep, deep into the eyes of Abraham Lincoln, far beyond the outward features the world beholds down into the heart of the Man. Forgotten is all the hunger, and the pain and the sorrow—he has found a resting place at last. Bearing his strange burden away from the'rude and inquisitive eyes of the world to one of the rooms of a nearby hotel, the president orders, “Some nourishing food, at once, for the boy!"” “Dat’s what der doctor-man said,” (Countinued to Fifth Column.) THE COMMITTEE ¥ L Were compelled to reject several weil writ- ten letters as the writers exceeded the num- ber of words allowed. | The committée found the letters of above average merit and many of them remarkably good. After careful deliberation the committee awarded the prizes as follows: First . Prize—Raymond _D. Danielson, $10. Second Prize—Florence E. Olin, Mans- field Center, $7. Third Prize—Frank D. Burke, Nor- wich, $5. Fourth Prize—Mary R. Gibbs, Norwich. Preston, HONORABLE MENTION. A. Alice Finegan, Norwich. Irma Hutzler, Norwich. Florence Weller, Taftville, Florence West, Grosvenordale. John P. Downing, Norwich. Hazel C. Jacobs, Mansfield Center. Frank Rinella, Norwich. ‘Marion Sinclair Walker, Norwich. Harriet B. James, Danielson. Helen C. Sullivan, Norwich, Jennis G. Berriman, Killingly. Mary C. Nolan, Norwich. Mildred A.8mith, Norwich, Albina B. Juneau, Norwich. Marion 1. Pray, Attawaugan, Killingly, Conn. Almira Gladys Frink, Norwich. Agnes Graham, Taftville. 8. Grace Lawton, Putnam. Ruth A. Fowler, Norwich. ~ Grace A. Taylor, Putnam. HIGHLY COMMENDED. John B. Noyes, Norwich. Willis P. Wildes, Jr., Epgleville, Eleanor M. Harrigan, Norwich. \ i i i i | | | Myrton P. Jackson, Willimantic. | Edith Frissell, | Russel] N. Hopkins, Norwich. | Fannie E. Wells, Norwich. Ruth Roode, Jewett City. Hazel A. Thomas, Norwich, Annie Swift, South Coventry. Lincoln. Wadsworth, Norwich. Charles B. Palmer, Norwich, Harriét Blackman, Killingly. F. Marjorie Richardson, Putnam, Mary Ansel, Norwich. Blanche Douglas, Danielson. Carrie Place, Eagleville. \ Winifred Egan McCaffrey, Norwich. ?-m‘ond McNamara, Norwich, n R. Tracy, Jewett City, alerie Shannon, Norwich. Elizabeth Fitzgerald, Norwich. Marion Bell Wolcott, Norwich, Albina Boulais, Danielson, Lois Kebler, Sterling. Maud C. Oehlers, Chestnut Hill. Ballouville. Marguerite Shields, Norwich Town. James Kilkenny, Norwich, Lydia 8. Morrill, Ballouville. Paul W, Latham, Norwich Town. Millie Lintusky, Norwich Town, Myrtle Lumis, Norwich, Viola Burr, Hanover. Thomas Halpin, Danielson. Marjorie Burnham, Hampton. Katherine Haney, Unc e. Eunice S. Ward, Storrs. Timothy Parker Lathrop, Norwich. Rose M, Callahan, Norwich. Clarice E. Woodson, Breoklyn. | coln, is you? . (in deep, husky tone), nobody dorie gib LINCOLN ‘ Nursed on the rocks and reefs of life, Want and work, his dower, » rose at e call of woe and strife Begirt with power. As from the lowly and the poor Omne sprang—the Great Annointed— He came with mission not less sure And God-appointed. viour of a nation’s fame. rom taint that stained it point of sword, where dreamed Of him who gained it redeemed Freedom | | Brealker of clairs! Beneath the awful rending; Prayer cried to God, and hope seemed dead, And then—the ending. Giver of peace, that freed a land rom throes of affliction; Lincoln, we take it at your hand, In benediction. Whiie, hove wreathed. The welded Union, Hand clasped in hand and sword long sheathed, Bows in communion your quiet bed, oak- ABRAHAM LINCOLN. (From an address to an audience of | and thy neighbor as thyself.’ I am in | full fellowship with all who keep His 3,000 by Rev. Lewis B. Bates, D. D., Boston, Mass., Feb. 12, 1908.) George Washington led the way for independence in the of our na- | tion live forev fi reat struggle, and he will r in the hearts of all those who love liberty. Abraham Jed the way in the awful days of civil strife, and when one wond wrote his name on the emancipation proclamation he wrote his name on the hearts of the human race the shackles from four mi an beings, and turned those shack- nto bands of steel to bind unto himself the hearts of all true Ameri- e names of ‘Wendell Phillips, s Sumner and Willlam Lloyd Garrison thrill our hearts on this the ninety-ninth anniversary of the birth of Abraham Lincoln, but great as are these names, we realize that these men were only as John the Baptists to the mighty Lincoln who followed them. What is there about the ¢ acter y he | Lincoln | of this one man that today places him | in so unique a position in American history? The ¥irst thing that im- presses us in the st@dy of Lincoln is his wonderfu]l simplicity. In spirit he was always the little child seeking di- vine wisdom. Of humble origin, even at the heginning of his political career, with twenty-five cents in his pocket, he was rich in character because he had already “overcome so much.” himself once said: “No man is poor who has had a godly mother and who has' faith in God and faith in human- ity.” The honesty of Lincoin was another great element in his character. 1In private life, in his profession, in nis public life, in the administration of the nation’s affairs in the “dark hour” of its history, he>was so perfectly true that at his death not dme spot of dis- honesty could be found wpon him! What a lesson for the American na- tion of today! We are told that the pure in heart shall see God. Abraham Lincoln once said: “This is. my creed: *Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, mind, soul and strength, He | i commandments in spirit and truth.” In private and in public life the purity of' his character was above reproach. Abraham Lincoln was simple in his greatness, honest and pure in motive, but above all else he showed his genius in his power of consecration, pucpose in life will make even an ordi- nary li it gave k From B immortality, when as a young man he first saw in a the day southern ci men and women sold at auction as slaves, he became possessed of a great purpose, and that purpose to help humanity. He said then: f God gives me a chance, I will strike and 1 will strike it s hour came, and Abraham Lincoln heard fo- over forty yvears. Today, throughout the schools of our land, the boys and girls are repeating a simple little piece of prose, so simple that the heart ofl a child is thrilled as he listens, so eloquent that it is known to the world as the American master- piece. It ‘is Lincoln’s “Address at Gettysburg.” *In the days of Ther- mopylae, even to three hundred years after its famous battle, the children were required to recite in its honor the names of all its participants. In America, instinctively on the 12th of February, the nation.arises and to- gether utters forth in glorious voice: “It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated to the unfinished work . . that government of the people, the people. for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” We rejoice today in the thought of the heavenly crowning of Abraham Linceln. It is not often given to man to be crowned on earth, but there was one momient in the life of Lincoln when the most perfect tribute ever given to man was awarded to him. Tt was the tribute of perfect silence which greet- ed him on the close of this speech. In his humility, for .days after, he fel* his speech was a failure, and could never be made to realize that this two- minute speech, written on the back of an old envelope, hurriedly and wearied- 1y, had been called pfi by a world. Abraham Lincoln, the great white The earth ran red | | After battling through thick and thin ! he began the study of law. | He dia not hard!™ ' a blow whose echoes have been | | which prepared him for the presidency | During this lin 1865, T STOR.ES OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN (Continued from Second Column.) came a tired voice from the lounge. “Yes, ' boy,” said Lincoln, bendineg down over his charge and looking him straight in the eyes, “You shall tell me about that when you have rested and eaten, And, servant, send word to the White house that the president will be unable to attend the conference until jate this evening ,and”—but here a cry from the corner stopped him, “Js you de President Abraham’ Lin- Yes, you is! My Mam- my done said you was de uglies’ man she ever seed, but she never done seed vour xyes like I has!™ JYed, T is” said Lincoln simply— never once imagining any reason for anger, and completely hiding that never-closed wound, Quite used was he to being thus recognized! “And what can I do for you, now that yot | know who I am?" “Oh,” said the boy, “my Mammy rick and s=o's Charles Jefferson, an’ de doctor-man he done said dey mus’ hab nourishments—but, Sir President me work so’s I could get dem any!™ “You want food?” said the Man, walking to the window and gazing out at the crowds of people passing below. *“You, a boy in Washington, the capital of our United States, hun- ar; earching for food—and finding none! And the boy, although he heard the break in that deep and won- derful voice, could not see the tears that, for a moment, dimmed the sight of the passers below. “And today I have wondered, I have pondered, whether 1 was doing ri~ht! But, now, now"—and with firm, guick step, lhe; avekward figure straightening, he ad- vanced toward the boy. “Come,” he said, “take me fo your Mammy! You have answered my questions. Come, I will answer youfs!” And hand in hand Abraham Lincoln, the president, and Abe Johnson, the negro, departed for “Mammy.” LETTERS IN HONORABLE MEN- TION CLASS. Essay on Abraham Lincoln. One hundred years ago a little heart | began to beat in a log cabin in the | backwoods of Kentucky—a heart that | was destined to swell with the hopes, | and throb with the grief of the great- est neticn orn earid. Who would have | thought that from such humble sur- roundings and improvident people | would come one of the greatest presi- | dents the world has ever known. Rven | though the days of Lincoln’s childhood were dull and barren, they shone with the warmth and kindness of his heart. His love for his sister did not lessen the Jove for his mother, for many times he quoted the words, “All T am or hope to be T owe to my sainted moth- er. student he must have been, | vheod cays belonged to that | civilization which the modern people | have never known. K His kind heart was sorely wounded by the death of his mother, bt bright- énéd later by his father’s marriage to a Kentucky w « In his tine hools wera few s poor, but young Lincoln took advant- age of learning, and when seventeen walked four miles for that purpose. in school difficulties for several years, | Imagine his stalwart figure growing from boyhod to vouthhood with always | an expression on his face that shoWed | his kindness of heart. Even as a youth | he was forever defending the helpless, consider anything in dis- tress beneath his notice. But in love affairs he was like most young men. He was disappointed at} the death of an attractive and estima- ble girl, Ann Rutledge, to whom he was to be married after the completion of his law studies. Later in life, he | married Miss Mary Todd, a young | Kentucky lady of good family. Al- though she possessed a vigorous and cultured mind, her temper was erratic which caused, at times, unpleasantnes: for Mr. Lincoln. Toward his fam which consisted of three boys, he w very tender hearted and proved a lov- ing fathe . | During his married life he continued the study of law and also human na- ture. He was a keen observer. In | 2 he received his largest fee. It | s not until the repeal of the Mis- 1ri compromise, in 1854, that Lincoln was really aroused. He had alwseys opposed the extension of slavery. Dur- ng this time he became a great com- petitor of Douglas. After arranging that Lincoln should speak against Douglas, the two met in debate at Pe- oria. But it was the campalgn of 1858 which madg Lincoln famous, which fully demonstrated his powers., and | In 1861 he was inaugurated for presi- | dent. As he was a great anti-slavery | man the southern people, thinking he | would free the slaves, secded. This brought on the great etvil war of 1861. campalgn Lincoln's task | was such as no man ever faced before, Imagine his great, stooping figure | walking here and there, with his heart torn and bleeding with sorrow for the poor soldiers. At thé end of the war, he was re-elected president. was on the evening of April 14, 65, that Mr. Lincoln was, by special | invitation, to witness a play at Ford's | theater. With qeep regret we have ! heard of Lincoln’s assassination, by | John Wikes Booth. Eorrow, more deep and universal, cannot be imagined than enveloped our land on that 15th of April. Throughout the country every household felt the loss. The loved re- mains were quietly laid away in Springfield. Father Abraham certainly merited the words “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” r. W. Taftville. For the Sake of the “Step-kind.” The president sat alone in his pri- vate office. Without, a cold, drizaling rain had beem falling all afternoon— within, the room wag dreary, and the gloom of the day was reflected in the president's face. All day long dis- couraging reports had been coming in of officers’ incompetency, of yet an- other battle, with even nore than usual killed and wounded—and still no prospect of ending this cruel war. Presjlent Lincoln’s face wore an ex- on of ineffable sadness—the bur- en of the great work which he had undertaken seemed greater than he ¢ould bear. It was mnot alone the soul of America, what more shall I say of you? When you were living at your greatest, you yourself once said to a friend: “After all, the one meaning of life is simply to be kind. T have tried to be. I have not done much, but this much I have done—wherever I have found a thistle growing, I have tried to pluck it up and in its place I have planted a flower!” And so today we would bring forth our tribute to your greatness, to your goodness, and as we thank God for your life, resolve that we, too, .will endeavor to change our nation's great moral thorns into flowers, believing that He who has made the desert to bhlossom as a rose will ever aid us in this great —C, S. Sentinel, Boston, Feb. 14, 1908. "i'fncoln Letter Prize Winners and Leaders struggle of the north which weighed upon him—his sympathies were broad- er, more comprehensive than that—for with every pang and suffering of the erring south his great heart throbbed in compassion, He looked, as he sat there, as {f he could not stand the strain much longer, if he were not diverted for a time from his melan- choly thoughts, ; Suddenly * there came the sound of hurrying footsteps, and a man’s angry voice. As the president looked up in surprise, there rushed into the room, pursued by an Irate White house at- tendant, a Jittle girl, perhaps twelve years of age. She was flushed and breathless from excitement, and her_ curly brown hair was tumbled about her face in confusion. “I told this child that she'couldn’t see you, Mr. President,” cried the angry attendant, “but the impertinent little imp just dodged me and ran right in” 0 I gee,” said the president, calm- ‘but since she has come, perhaps we had better see what we can do for her. You may go, Jenkins. And now, little one,” turning to the child, “why did 'you wish to see me?” The audacious youngster, however, now that she had accomplished her end, and stood in the very presence of the president, was abashed—quite speechiess from embarrassment, The president drew forward a chair and gently bade her be seated, “Now, my dear, just tell me all about it,” he said, so kindly that the Jittle maid was reassured and proceed- ed to tell her story, “My name is Patrici I came to ask you to Jpardon Capt. Richard Kent. He was, in the rebel army until last week he was captured as a spy. They've condemned him to be shot, and you're the only one who can+save him. 1 was sure you would, because I've heard so many times how kind you are, and' oh, do, please, Mr. President! One rebel surely won't make much difference!” “And why are you so anxious that Enfield, and this particular rebel should be let loose, Patricia? Is he a relative of yours?”’ “Well, not exactly. Ile is my step- mother's son, and, oh, you can’t imag- ine how much ghe loves him!” “I think I can imagine,” sald the president, in his grave kind voice. *“I have a son myself. But how do you feel about -Captain Kent? Are you fond of him, too?” “Oh, Richard never notices me and I've never seen much of him, because | when he’s at home I'm at school, and when I'm in, he’s out, But it's for mother that I want you to save him, It would break her heart if anything happened to him. And oh, she is so lovely! 1 never saw my own mother, and I'd always thought it would be terrible to have one of the step-kind— you know how they are in storfes. But then two years ago, when father brought Her home, I loved her from the very first minute. - Those two rog have been so different from all the others! Oh, Mr. President, I wish. vou could see her, for then you'd surely let Richard go. You couldn't bear to grieve her!” - “No,” 1 don’'t belleve I could,” said the president. “At any rate, I'll take your word for it, Patricia® He ‘turned to the desk and wrote busily for a few moments; then folde ing and sealing the document, he hand- ed it to Patricia. “Here you are, Patricia. Mr. Jen- kins will take you to the secretary of war's office, and this will have Captain Kent freed immediately, T hope, Pa- tricia, that you will always love that ifttle stepmother as you do know. You and T know hat the ‘step-kind’ are all right, don't we?" Long after little Patricia had gone joyfully on her way, the president sat with a tender smile lighting his kind face. His thoughts were far away—in a rough log cabin in g western state. He saw in memory a little woman go- ing cheerfully about her many tasks— one whose gentle ways and bright face had meant very much to him in his lonely boyhood. “It would have pléased her,” he satd softly, and the thought was a pleasant one. For ghe, too. had been one of the “step-kind. M, & W., Norwich. / Lincoln at Home. The day's work was done and Abra- ham had a few minutes before supper to do as he pleased. Climbing up the ladder which led to his loft, he took his book, a speller, and stretching him- self out his full length before the fire- place began to study. He had not been studying long before hls mother called him to supper. All he had for his supper was hoe cakes, but Abra- ham was hungry and mother's cakes tasted good. After supper the whole family sat around the fire while Abraham read from the Bible. As he paused In his reading, to hear a remark from one of th. family, a knock was heard at the door. Mr. Lincoin went to the door. A neighbor had come to see if Abraham would write a letter for him. Most of the people knew little about writing and Abraham, out of the kindness of his heart, often wrote letters for them. By the time the lotter was finished Abraha;: was ready to go to bed. [ am quite sure that he slept just as well, if not better, than we do in our nice roomy beds. In the morning Abraham weht right to work in the fields as soon as he had his breakfast, his first task being to chop down a large . When this was done he got up the stump and made a speech. All the men crowded around him, for Abe’s speeches were famous. This hindered very much with the work and Mr. Lincoln did not like it. These pioneer people depended on the rifle to furnish them meat, so Abraham was expected to hunt some of the time. That afternoon Lincoln's cousin, Dennis Hanke came for Abe to go hunting. Lincoin had just se- cured a new book and preferred to stay at home rather than go, That evening as the family sat around the fireplace Mr. Lincoln brought up the subject of moving into Ilinois, where he heard there were gopd fields for raising corn and other grains. Abraham was not quite ready to leave the home of his father and mother, so he left the place where he working, to go with them to Illlinois. The family could boast of having more goods than they did when they came to Indlana. It took them several days to make this journey, but after they reached Illinois they felt fully repaid. Lincoln helped settle the house -and after that was finished his father set him and John Hanks to splitting logs for fences. They fenced off about fif- teen acres for the purpose of raising grains, ‘The next day they started the plant- ing, which took them a good part of a week. In the evening John Hanxs came over and told Abe of a pr i- tion that a man had made hltno&"p to New Orleans on a flatboat to carry products. Ths pay was good and Abraham consented to go. In the morning they talked over the trip and Abe’s mother wanted him to go. but as she toid him she couldn't help fearing what might hanpen: ’ The trip was made with but one mishap, but as Abraham , . night as they sat around m::‘:& never enjoyed a mishap quite as ® t one. Lincoln was ued on page