Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1869-09-10
BELLOWS FALLS, VT, FRIDAY,

trying, drove with his friend to the White
House.
They were too late. 1t was Saturday
evening, and Mr.. Lincoln had gone to
spend Sunday at Soldiers Rest, his sum-
mer retreat This was but few miles
from town, and the Colonel's indomitable
friend, proposed that they should follow
him out, and they went
There was then popular belief that
all the wronged, the troubled, and suf-
fering could find refuge in I" Father Alb
raham's" capacious bosom belief;
that was not far out of the way. Yet
there were times when overburdened,
wearied, tortured, the patriarch longed
to clear that asylum Of his forlorn in
mates, to bolt and bar and double lock
it against the world times when life be.
came too hard and perplexing for his
genial, honest nature, too serious and
tragic and rascally thing by half
1t happened unluckily that the poor
Colonel and his friend found the Presi.
dent in one of his most despondent and
disguised moods. He was in his little
private parlor, alone in the cleaning.
He was lounging loosely in large rock
ing chair, jutting over in all directions.
His slippered feet were exalted, his rough
head was thrown back, his long throat
bare-he was in his shirt sleeves. Yes,
dear, fastidious English reader, it was
genuine Yankee abandon-make the
most Of it.
He turned upon his visitors look Of
almost savage inquiry. There was, in
deed, in his usually pleasant eyes wild,
angry gleam-a something like the glare
of worried animal at bay.
Col. Scott proceeded very modestly to
tell his story; but the President inter
rupted him, to say brusquely, " Go to
Stanton; this is his business
81 have been to him, Mr.. President,
and he will do nothing for me-"
"You have been to him, and got your
answer, and still presume to come to me.
Am l to have no rest? no privacy ?
Must | be dogged to my last Businesses,
and worried to death by inches? Mr..
Stanton has done just right. He knows
what he is about. Your demands are
unreasonable, sir"
"But, Mr.. Lincoln, l thought you
would feel for me-"
= Feel Tor you! Good asdi T have to
feel for FIVE hundred thousand more un-
fortunate than you. We are at war !;
Don't you know we are at war Sorrow
is the lot of all bear your share like a
man and soldier"
=" | try too, Mr.. President, but it seems
hard. My devoted wife lost her life for
coming to nurse me in my sickness, and
| cannot even take her body home to my
children"
Well, she ought not to have come
down to the army. She should have
stayed at home. That is the place for
women. But if they will go tearing
about the country, in such times as these,
aud running into all sorts of danger,
they must take the consequences Not
but that am sorry for you, Colonel. As
for your wife, she's at rest, and l wish
were.'
Saying this, the President leaned back
wearily in his chair, and closed his eyes,
not noticing except by slight wave of
his hand, the departure of his visitors.
1 am not ashamed to confess that my
hero tossed restlessly that night, upon a
pillow wet with many tears, that he was
desperate and re.entful, utterly unrecon-
ciled to the decree of Providence and the
War Department, and that he thought
Abraham Lincoln as hard as he was ug-
ly, and as inhumane as he was ungainly.
Towards morning he fell asleep, and
slept late. Before he was fully dressed,
there came quick knock at the door Of
his chamber, and he opened it to Presi-
dent Lincoln
The good man came forward pale and
eager, tears glistening in his eyes, and
grasped the Colonel's hand, saying, 81
treated you brutally last night. 1 ask
your pardon. | was utterly tired out
badgered to death. [ generally become
as savage as wild cat by Saturday
night, drained dry of the milk of human
kindness. l must have seemed to yor
the very gorilla the rebels paint me.
was sorry enough for it when you were
gone. l could not sleep moment las
night, so l thought I'd drive into towr
in the cool of the morning and make i
all right. Fortunately, had little diff
ficulty in finding you"
"This is very good of you, Mr.. Presi
dent" said the Colonel, deeply moved.
mo, it isn't but that was yery bat
: of me last night. i never should hav,
forgiven myself if / had let that piece o
ugly work stand. That was a noble wifi