''Abe'' Lincoln's Yarns and Stories by Alexander Kelly McClure (books to read for 13 year olds TXT) 📖

and in this way he made himself a thorough, practical surveyor. Once, during those days, I was in the upper part of the State, and I met General Ewing, whom President Jackson had sent to the Northwest to make surveys. I told him about Abe Lincoln, what a student he was, and that I wanted he should give him a job. He looked over his memorandum, and, holding out a paper, said:

“‘There is County must be surveyed; if your friend can do the work properly, I shall be glad to have him undertake it—the compensation will be six hundred dollars.’

“Pleased as I could be, I hastened to Abe, after I got home, with an account of what I had secured for him. He was sitting before the fire in the log-cabin when I told him; and what do you think was his answer? When I finished, he looked up very quietly, and said:

“‘Mr. Simmons, I thank you very sincerely for your kindness, but I don’t think I will undertake the job.’

“‘In the name of wonder,’ said I, ‘why? Six hundred does not grow upon every bush out here in Illinois.’

“‘I know that,’ said Abe, ‘and I need the money bad enough, Simmons, as you know; but I have never been under obligation to a Democratic Administration, and I never intend to be so long as I can get my living another way. General Ewing must find another man to do his work.’”

A friend related this story to the President one day, and asked him if it were true.

“Pollard Simmons!” said Lincoln. “Well do I remember him. It is correct about our working together, but the old man must have stretched the facts somewhat about the survey of the county. I think I should have been very glad of the job at the time, no matter what Administration was in power.”

 

IT LENGTHENED THE WAR.

President Lincoln said, long before the National political campaign of 1864 had opened:

“If the unworthy ambition of politicians and the jealousy that exists in the army could be repressed, and all unite in a common aim and a common endeavor, the rebellion would soon be crushed.”

 

HIS THEORY OF THE REBELLION.

The President once explained to a friend the theory of the Rebellion by the aid of the maps before him.

Running his long fore-finger down the map, he stopped at Virginia.

“We must drive them away from here” (Manassas Gap), he said, “and clear them out of this part of the State so that they cannot threaten us here (Washington) and get into Maryland.

“We must keep up a good and thorough blockade of their ports. We must march an army into East Tennessee and liberate the Union sentiment there. Finally we must rely on the people growing tired and saying to their leaders, ‘We have had enough of this thing, we will bear it no longer.’”

Such was President Lincoln’s plan for heading off the Rebellion in the summer of 1861. How it enlarged as the War progressed, from a call for seventy thousand volunteers to one for five hundred thousand men and $500,000,000 is a matter of well-known history.

 

RAN AWAY WHEN VICTORIOUS.

Three or four days after the battle of Bull Run, some gentlemen who had been on the field called upon the President.

He inquired very minutely regarding all the circumstances of the affair, and, after listening with the utmost attention, said, with a touch of humor: “So it is your notion that we whipped the rebels and then ran away from them!”

 

WANTED STANTON SPANKED.

Old Dennis Hanks was sent to Washington at one time by persons interested in securing the release from jail of several men accused of being copperheads. It was thought Old Dennis might have some influence with the President.

The latter heard Dennis’ story and then said: “I will send for Mr. Stanton. It is his business.”

Secretary Stanton came into the room, stormed up and down, and said the men ought to be punished more than they were. Mr. Lincoln sat quietly in his chair and waited for the tempest to subside, and then quietly said to Stanton he would like to have the papers next day.

When he had gone, Dennis said:

“‘Abe,’ if I was as big and as ugly as you are, I would take him over my knee and spank him.”

The President replied: “No, Stanton is an able and valuable man for this Nation, and I am glad to bear his anger for the service he can give the Nation.”

 

STANTON WAS OUT OF TOWN.

The quaint remark of the President to an applicant, “My dear sir, I have not much influence with the Administration,” was one of Lincoln’s little jokes.

Mr. Stanton, Secretary of War, once replied to an order from the President to give a colonel a commission in place of the resigning brigadier:

“I shan’t do it, sir! I shan’t do it! It isn’t the way to do it, sir, and I shan’t do it. I don’t propose to argue the question with you, sir.”

A few days after, the friend of the applicant who had presented the order to Secretary Stanton called upon the President and related his reception. A look of vexation came over the face of the President, and he seemed unwilling to talk of it, and desired the friend to see him another day. He did so, when he gave his visitor a positive order for the promotion. The latter told him he would not speak to Secretary Stanton again until he apologized.

“Oh,” said the President, “Stanton has gone to Fortress Monroe, and Dana is acting. He will attend to it for you.”

This he said with a manner of relief, as if it was a piece of good luck to find a man there who would obey his orders.

The nomination was sent to the Senate and confirmed.

 

IDENTIFIED THE COLORED MAN.

Many applications reached Lincoln as he passed to and from the White House and the War Department. One day as he crossed the park he was stopped by a negro, who told him a pitiful story. The President wrote him out a check, which read. “Pay to colored man with one leg five dollars.”

 

OFFICE SEEKERS WORSE THAN WAR.

When the Republican party came into power, Washington swarmed with office-seekers. They overran the White House and gave the President great annoyance. The incongruity of a man in his position, and with the very life of the country at stake, pausing to appoint postmasters, struck Mr. Lincoln forcibly. “What is the matter, Mr. Lincoln,” said a friend one day, when he saw him looking particularly grave and dispirited. “Has anything gone wrong at the front?” “No,” said the President, with a tired smile. “It isn’t the war; it’s the postoffice at Brownsville, Missouri.”

 

HE “SET ‘EM UP.”

Immediately after Mr. Lincoln’s nomination for President at the Chicago Convention, a committee, of which Governor Morgan, of New York, was chairman, visited him in Springfield, Ill., where he was officially informed of his nomination.

After this ceremony had passed, Mr. Lincoln remarked to the company that as a fit ending to an interview so important and interesting as that which had just taken place, he supposed good manners would require that he should treat the committee with something to drink; and opening the door that led into the rear, he called out, “Mary! Mary!” A girl responded to the call, to whom Mr. Lincoln spoke a few words in an undertone, and, closing the door, returned again and talked with his guests. In a few minutes the maid entered, bearing a large waiter, containing several glass tumblers, and a large pitcher, and placed them upon the center-table. Mr. Lincoln arose, and, gravely addressing the company, said: “Gentlemen, we must pledge our mutual health in the most healthy beverage that God has given to man—it is the only beverage I have ever used or allowed my family to use, and I cannot conscientiously depart from it on the present occasion. It is pure Adam’s ale from the spring.” And, taking the tumbler, he touched it to his lips, and pledged them his highest respects in a cup of cold water. Of course, all his guests admired his consistency, and joined in his example.

 

WASN’T STANTON’S SAY.

A few days before the President’s death, Secretary Stanton tendered his resignation as Secretary of War. He accompanied the act with a most heartfelt tribute to Mr. Lincoln’s constant friendship and faithful devotion to the country, saying, also, that he, as Secretary, had accepted the position to hold it only until the war should end, and that now he felt his work was done, and his duty was to resign.

Mr. Lincoln was greatly moved by the Secretary’s words, and, tearing in pieces the paper containing the resignation, and throwing his arms about the Secretary, he said:

“Stanton, you have been a good friend and a faithful public servant, and it is not for you to say when you will no longer be needed here.”

Several friends of both parties were present on the occasion, and there was not a dry eye that witnessed the scene.

 

“JEFFY” THREW UP THE SPONGE.

When the War was fairly on, many people were astonished to find that “Old Abe” was a fighter from “way back.” No one was the victim of greater amazement than Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America. Davis found out that “Abe” was not only a hard hitter, but had staying qualities of a high order. It was a fight to a “finish” with “Abe,” no compromises being accepted. Over the title, “North and South,” the issue of “Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper” of December 24th, 1864, contained the cartoon, see reproduce on this page. Underneath the picture were the lines:

“Now, Jeffy, when you think you have had enough of this, say so, and I’ll leave off.” (See President’s message.) In his message to Congress, December 6th,

President Lincoln said: “No attempt at negotiation with the insurgent leader could result in any good. He would accept of nothing short of the severance of the Union.”

Therefore, Father Abraham, getting “Jeffy’s” head “in chancery,” proceeded to change the appearance and size of the secessionist’s countenance, much to the grief and discomfort of the Southerner. It was Lincoln’s idea to re-establish the Union, and he carried out his purpose to the very letter. But he didn’t “leave off” until “Jeffy” cried “enough.”

 

DIDN’T KNOW GRANT’S PREFERENCE.

In October, 1864, President Lincoln, while he knew his re-election to the White House was in no sense doubtful, knew that if he lost New York and with it Pennsylvania on the home vote, the moral effect of his triumph would be broken and his power to prosecute the war and make peace would be greatly impaired. Colonel A. K. McClure was with Lincoln a good deal of the time previous to the November election, and tells this story:

“His usually sad face was deeply shadowed with sorrow when I told him that I saw no reasonable prospect of carrying Pennsylvania on the home vote, although we had about held our own in the hand-to-hand conflict through which we were passing.

“‘Well, what is to be done?’ was Lincoln’s inquiry, after the whole situation had been presented to him. I answered that the solution of the problem was a very simple and easy one—that Grant was idle in front of Petersburg; that Sheridan had won all possible victories in the Valley; and that if five thousand Pennsylvania soldiers could be furloughed home from each army, the election could be carried without doubt.

“Lincoln’s face’ brightened instantly at the suggestion, and I saw that he was quite ready to execute it. I said to him: ‘Of course, you can trust want to