Lincoln's Yarns and Stories [65]
will not lead to the same in the future.
"After much thought and consideration, not to mention mental worry and anxiety, it is my opinion, all side issues being swept aside, that a man's lower limbs, in order to preserve harmony of proportion, should be at least long enough to reach from his body to the ground."
TOO MANY WIDOWS ALREADY.
A Union officer in conversation one day told this story:
"The first week I was with my command there were twenty-four deserters sentenced by court-martial to be shot, and the warrants for their execution were sent to the President to be signed. He refused.
"I went to Washington and had an interview. I said:
"'Mr. President, unless these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger. Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many.'
"He replied: 'Mr. General, there are already too many weeping widows in the United States. For God's sake, don't ask me to add to the number, for I won't do it.'"
GOD NEEDED THAT CHURCH.
In the early stages of the war, after several battles had been fought, Union troops seized a church in Alexandria, Va., and used it as a hospital.
A prominent lady of the congregation went to Washington to see Mr. Lincoln and try to get an order for its release.
"Have you applied to the surgeon in charge at Alexandria?" inquired Mr. Lincoln.
"Yes, sir" but I can do nothing with him," was the reply.
"Well, madam," said Mr. Lincoln, "that is an end of it, then. We put him there to attend to just such business, and it is reasonable to suppose that he knows better what should be done under the circumstances than I do."
The lady's face showed her keen disappointment. In order to learn her sentiment, Mr. Lincoln asked:
"How much would you be willing to subscribe toward building a hospital there?"
She said that the war had depreciated Southern property so much that she could afford to give but little.
"This war is not over yet," said Mr. Lincoln, "and there will likely be another fight very soon. That church may be very useful in which to house our wounded soldiers. It is my candid opinion that God needs that church for our wounded fellows; so, madam, I can do nothing for you."
THE MAN DOWN SOUTH.
An amusing instance of the President's preoccupation of mind occurred at one of his levees, when he was shaking hands with a host of visitors passing him in a continuous stream.
An intimate acquaintance received the usual conventional hand-shake and salutation, but perceiving that he was not recognized, kept his ground instead of moving on, and spoke again, when the President, roused to a dim consciousness that something unusual had happened, perceived who stood before him, and, seizing his friend's hand, shook it again heartily, saying:
"How do you do? How do you do? Excuse me for not noticing you. I was thinking of a man down South."
"The man down South" was General W. T. Sherman, then on his march to the sea.
COULDN'T LET GO THE HOG.
When Governor Curtin of Pennsylvania described the terrible butchery at the battle of Fredericksburg, Mr. Lincoln was almost broken-hearted.
The Governor regretted that his description had so sadly affected the President. He remarked: "I would give all I possess to know how to rescue you from this terrible war." Then Mr. Lincoln's wonderful recuperative powers asserted themselves and this marvelous man was himself.
Lincoln's whole aspect suddenly changed, and he relieved his mind by telling a story.
"This reminds me, Governor," he said, "of an old farmer out in Illinois that I used to know.
"He took it into his head to go into hog-raising. He sent out to Europe and imported the finest breed of hogs he could buy.
"The prize hog was put in a pen, and the farmer's two mischievous boys, James and John, were told to be sure not to let it out. But James, the worst of the two, let the brute out the next day. The hog went straight for the boys, and drove John up a tree, then the hog went for the seat of James' trousers, and the only way the boy could save himself was by
"After much thought and consideration, not to mention mental worry and anxiety, it is my opinion, all side issues being swept aside, that a man's lower limbs, in order to preserve harmony of proportion, should be at least long enough to reach from his body to the ground."
TOO MANY WIDOWS ALREADY.
A Union officer in conversation one day told this story:
"The first week I was with my command there were twenty-four deserters sentenced by court-martial to be shot, and the warrants for their execution were sent to the President to be signed. He refused.
"I went to Washington and had an interview. I said:
"'Mr. President, unless these men are made an example of, the army itself is in danger. Mercy to the few is cruelty to the many.'
"He replied: 'Mr. General, there are already too many weeping widows in the United States. For God's sake, don't ask me to add to the number, for I won't do it.'"
GOD NEEDED THAT CHURCH.
In the early stages of the war, after several battles had been fought, Union troops seized a church in Alexandria, Va., and used it as a hospital.
A prominent lady of the congregation went to Washington to see Mr. Lincoln and try to get an order for its release.
"Have you applied to the surgeon in charge at Alexandria?" inquired Mr. Lincoln.
"Yes, sir" but I can do nothing with him," was the reply.
"Well, madam," said Mr. Lincoln, "that is an end of it, then. We put him there to attend to just such business, and it is reasonable to suppose that he knows better what should be done under the circumstances than I do."
The lady's face showed her keen disappointment. In order to learn her sentiment, Mr. Lincoln asked:
"How much would you be willing to subscribe toward building a hospital there?"
She said that the war had depreciated Southern property so much that she could afford to give but little.
"This war is not over yet," said Mr. Lincoln, "and there will likely be another fight very soon. That church may be very useful in which to house our wounded soldiers. It is my candid opinion that God needs that church for our wounded fellows; so, madam, I can do nothing for you."
THE MAN DOWN SOUTH.
An amusing instance of the President's preoccupation of mind occurred at one of his levees, when he was shaking hands with a host of visitors passing him in a continuous stream.
An intimate acquaintance received the usual conventional hand-shake and salutation, but perceiving that he was not recognized, kept his ground instead of moving on, and spoke again, when the President, roused to a dim consciousness that something unusual had happened, perceived who stood before him, and, seizing his friend's hand, shook it again heartily, saying:
"How do you do? How do you do? Excuse me for not noticing you. I was thinking of a man down South."
"The man down South" was General W. T. Sherman, then on his march to the sea.
COULDN'T LET GO THE HOG.
When Governor Curtin of Pennsylvania described the terrible butchery at the battle of Fredericksburg, Mr. Lincoln was almost broken-hearted.
The Governor regretted that his description had so sadly affected the President. He remarked: "I would give all I possess to know how to rescue you from this terrible war." Then Mr. Lincoln's wonderful recuperative powers asserted themselves and this marvelous man was himself.
Lincoln's whole aspect suddenly changed, and he relieved his mind by telling a story.
"This reminds me, Governor," he said, "of an old farmer out in Illinois that I used to know.
"He took it into his head to go into hog-raising. He sent out to Europe and imported the finest breed of hogs he could buy.
"The prize hog was put in a pen, and the farmer's two mischievous boys, James and John, were told to be sure not to let it out. But James, the worst of the two, let the brute out the next day. The hog went straight for the boys, and drove John up a tree, then the hog went for the seat of James' trousers, and the only way the boy could save himself was by