Lincoln's Yarns and Stories [64]
he would expect the ladies to subdue the rebellious spirit of their husbands, and to that end he thought it would be well to reform their religion. "True patriotism," said he, "is better than the wrong kind of piety."
THE ONLY REAL PEACEMAKER.
During the Presidential campaign of 1864 much ill-feeling was displayed by the opposition to President Lincoln. The Democratic managers issued posters of large dimensions, picturing the Washington Administration as one determined to rule or ruin the country, while the only salvation for the United States was the election of McClellan.
We reproduce one of these 1864 campaign posters on this page, the title of which is, "The True Issue; or 'That's What's the Matter.'"
The dominant idea or purpose of the cartoon-poster was to demonstrate McClellan's availability. Lincoln, the Abolitionist, and Davis, the Secessionist, are pictured as bigots of the worst sort, who were determined that peace should not be restored to the distracted country, except upon the lines laid down by them. McClellan, the patriotic peacemaker, is shown as the man who believed in the preservation of the Union above all things--a man who had no fads nor vagaries.
This peacemaker, McClellan, standing upon "the War-is-a-failure" platform, is portrayed as a military chieftain, who would stand no nonsense; who would compel Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis to cease their quarreling; who would order the soldiers on both sides to quit their blood-letting and send the combatants back to the farm, workshop and counting-house; and the man whose election would restore order out of chaos, and make everything bright and lovely.
THE APPLE WOMAN'S PASS.
One day when President Lincoln was receiving callers a buxom Irish woman came into the office, and, standing before the President, with her hands on her hips, said:
"Mr. Lincoln, can't I sell apples on the railroad?"
President Lincoln replied: "Certainly, madam, you can sell all you wish."
"But," she said, "you must give me a pass, or the soldiers will not let me."
President Lincoln then wrote a few lines and gave them to her.
"Thank you, sir; God bless you!" she exclaimed as she departed joyfully.
SPLIT RAILS BY THE YARD.
It was in the spring of 1830 that "Abe" Lincoln, "wearing a jean jacket, shrunken buckskin trousers, a coonskin cap, and driving an ox-team," became a citizen of Illinois. He was physically and mentally equipped for pioneer work. His first desire was to obtain a new and decent suit of clothes, but, as he had no money, he was glad to arrange with Nancy Miller to make him a pair of trousers, he to split four hundred fence rails for each yard of cloth--fourteen hundred rails in all. "Abe" got the clothes after awhile.
It was three miles from his father's cabin to her wood-lot, where he made the forest ring with the sound of his ax. "Abe" had helped his father plow fifteen acres of land, and split enough rails to fence it, and he then helped to plow fifty acres for another settler.
THE QUESTION OF LEGS.
Whenever the people of Lincoln's neighborhood engaged in dispute; whenever a bet was to be decided; when they differed on points of religion or politics; when they wanted to get out of trouble, or desired advice regarding anything on the earth, below it, above it, or under the sea, they went to "Abe."
Two fellows, after a hot dispute lasting some hours, over the problem as to how long a man's legs should be in proportion to the size of his body, stamped into Lincoln's office one day and put the question to him.
Lincoln listened gravely to the arguments advanced by both contestants, spent some time in "reflecting" upon the matter, and then, turning around in his chair and facing the disputants, delivered his opinion with all the gravity of a judge sentencing a fellow-being to death.
"This question has been a source of controversy," he said, slowly and deliberately, "for untold ages, and it is about time it should be definitely decided. It has led to bloodshed in the past, and there is no reason to suppose it
THE ONLY REAL PEACEMAKER.
During the Presidential campaign of 1864 much ill-feeling was displayed by the opposition to President Lincoln. The Democratic managers issued posters of large dimensions, picturing the Washington Administration as one determined to rule or ruin the country, while the only salvation for the United States was the election of McClellan.
We reproduce one of these 1864 campaign posters on this page, the title of which is, "The True Issue; or 'That's What's the Matter.'"
The dominant idea or purpose of the cartoon-poster was to demonstrate McClellan's availability. Lincoln, the Abolitionist, and Davis, the Secessionist, are pictured as bigots of the worst sort, who were determined that peace should not be restored to the distracted country, except upon the lines laid down by them. McClellan, the patriotic peacemaker, is shown as the man who believed in the preservation of the Union above all things--a man who had no fads nor vagaries.
This peacemaker, McClellan, standing upon "the War-is-a-failure" platform, is portrayed as a military chieftain, who would stand no nonsense; who would compel Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis to cease their quarreling; who would order the soldiers on both sides to quit their blood-letting and send the combatants back to the farm, workshop and counting-house; and the man whose election would restore order out of chaos, and make everything bright and lovely.
THE APPLE WOMAN'S PASS.
One day when President Lincoln was receiving callers a buxom Irish woman came into the office, and, standing before the President, with her hands on her hips, said:
"Mr. Lincoln, can't I sell apples on the railroad?"
President Lincoln replied: "Certainly, madam, you can sell all you wish."
"But," she said, "you must give me a pass, or the soldiers will not let me."
President Lincoln then wrote a few lines and gave them to her.
"Thank you, sir; God bless you!" she exclaimed as she departed joyfully.
SPLIT RAILS BY THE YARD.
It was in the spring of 1830 that "Abe" Lincoln, "wearing a jean jacket, shrunken buckskin trousers, a coonskin cap, and driving an ox-team," became a citizen of Illinois. He was physically and mentally equipped for pioneer work. His first desire was to obtain a new and decent suit of clothes, but, as he had no money, he was glad to arrange with Nancy Miller to make him a pair of trousers, he to split four hundred fence rails for each yard of cloth--fourteen hundred rails in all. "Abe" got the clothes after awhile.
It was three miles from his father's cabin to her wood-lot, where he made the forest ring with the sound of his ax. "Abe" had helped his father plow fifteen acres of land, and split enough rails to fence it, and he then helped to plow fifty acres for another settler.
THE QUESTION OF LEGS.
Whenever the people of Lincoln's neighborhood engaged in dispute; whenever a bet was to be decided; when they differed on points of religion or politics; when they wanted to get out of trouble, or desired advice regarding anything on the earth, below it, above it, or under the sea, they went to "Abe."
Two fellows, after a hot dispute lasting some hours, over the problem as to how long a man's legs should be in proportion to the size of his body, stamped into Lincoln's office one day and put the question to him.
Lincoln listened gravely to the arguments advanced by both contestants, spent some time in "reflecting" upon the matter, and then, turning around in his chair and facing the disputants, delivered his opinion with all the gravity of a judge sentencing a fellow-being to death.
"This question has been a source of controversy," he said, slowly and deliberately, "for untold ages, and it is about time it should be definitely decided. It has led to bloodshed in the past, and there is no reason to suppose it