The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1902-02-07

Leonard, why wouldn't you CON. n apsr's
the roof with me?" VI
The man flushed, laid down his book and
looked up at her silently for . moment
or two. Then he spoke slowly: I
II was afraid" y ."s.Hsa
"Afraid Of what" 81.
"That I would fall off the roof" 's'
"But there was no danger of that. 1t ID
q great, broad roof" =
"That makes no difference. 1t seems 70
me l would have fallen off, somehow.
"Was that the reason you would not
climb the mountains in Switzerland! Was
that why you were alarmed at the Ferris
wheel?"
Eyes" He hesitated, and then resumed:
''I'm glad you've spoken of it, We should
have talked the matter over long ago.
Where heights are concerned am coward,
and l can't help it. I've tried and failed.
l know Others affected that way, but l
thought could show enough force of char
acter to gradually overcome the weakness.
I haven't done it, What are you going to
do about it, my grl?" and he laughed
vexedly.
Nothing" she answered, cheerfully.
cts only queer physical weakness. May
be I can help you. Anyhow, we'll try to.
gether. But how did it ever come upon
you?"
II could not have answered you definitely
until this very afternoon" was the reply.
"Ive been thinking backward since l came
down the stairs and realize, now, just
when this trait in me began. III tell You
all about it.
"When was small boy" he resumed,
II climbed trees as recklessly as did the
| other boys; scampered along the beams IN
the barn, and heights did not affect me more
than they did any other healthy youngster.
My family, as you know, lived in Spring
field, Ill 1t was one day late in the ''40s,
| when I was boy of about ten, believe,
| now the courthouse, and upstairs into
| big room where a group of attorneys and
| officials were gathered, talking politics and
telling stories. A story was in progress
! as I sidled in, and it was being told most
graphically by gaunt young attorney,
! man of extraordinary height, who was sit
| ting in the open window. had hung about
| to hear him tell stories before and knew
his peculiarities. He had way of work
| ing story up to climax, then, at its close,
! rising suddenly from his chair, uplifting his
| arms and bringing them down with sweep
as some droll point was made. Then he
| would drop laziy back into his chair. I
stood listening this afternoon, open!mouth-
ed and fascinated. The story-teller went
on, reached his climax, rose, threw up his
arms and sat back suddenly, not into his
CHAIR as he imagined in his absorption and
Inconsistencies, but into the open win
dow! He shot backward and outward, but,
at the same instant, two enormously long
! arms shot upward and the outstretched
hands with the fingers barely clutched the
edge of the sash above! The man drew
himself upward and inward with a grim
smile upon his face, but the faces of the
others in the room were white, and hearts
stopped beating. Finally some one spoke:
"'Abe, if your arms hadn't been five
inches too long, you'd be dead mani
Somehow, I've never recovered from the
effect of that strange scene. I've been
afraid of heights and death. Had that man
fallen, one of the grandest figures in history
would never have doomed to it's splendid
height. The history of the United States
would have been changed. Mary, that man
was Abraham Lincoln!"