The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1921-11-17
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sGentlemen, this Il nv speech: On
your second ballot vote for Abraham
Lincoln of Illinois,
He bowed and left the room and
visited many delegations, and every
where expressed his convictions n.
this formula. Backed by his tremen-
dOus personality and influence. the
simple words were impressive. I doubt
not they turned scores Of men from
Seward to the great 9 Of Illinois.
Then-the campaign with Its crowds,
Its enthusiasm, LIS Vesuvian mutter
ings. There was q curious touch Of
hurnor and history ii It'd banners. Here
are three Of them:
"Menard County Tor the TAI.
Sucker"
We are for old Abe the Giant
Killer ' 8.s
Link on to Lincoln"
Then-those last days IL Springfield.
He came to the Office the afternoon
before he left and threw himself on
the lounge and talked OF bygone days
with Herndon.
Billy, how long have we been to-
getherY" he asked.
Sixteen years"
Never q cross word"
Never
Keep the old sign hanging. a lit
tie thing like the election OF q Presi-
dent should make no change In the
firm Of Lincoln and Herndon. IL /
live, I'm coming back some time and
then wen go right on with the prac-
tice Of the law as IL nothing had hap
pened." u
Then-that Monday morning In
Springfield, at eight o'clock, on the
eleventh Of February, the train bors
him toward the great task Of his life.
Hannah Armstrong. who had foxed
his trousers IN New Salem, ana the
venerable Doctor Allen and the DRim-
steads, and Aleck Ferguson, bent With
age, and Harry Needles and Bim and
their four Handsome children, and my
father and mother, and Betsey, my
maiden sister, and Eli Frendenbsrg
e there In the crowd to bid him
go0d-by. N
A quartet sang. Mr.. Lincoln asked
his friends and neighbors to pray for
his uccess He was moved by the
sight Of them and could not have said
much If he had tried. The bell rang.
The train started. He waved his hand
and was gone. Not many Of us who
stood trying to see through our tears
again to look upon him, The
years Of preparation were ended and
those of sacrifice bad begun.
Now, we arc at the foot of the last
hill. For a long time l had seen it
looming in the distance. Those days
1t filled my heart with a great fear.
Now. how beautiful, how lonely it
seems! Oh, but what a vineyard On
that very fruitful hill! I speak low.
when l think of it. Harry Needles
and I were on our way to Washington
that fateful night Of April Ia, 1865.
We reached there at an early hour in
the morning. We made our way
through the crowded streets to the lit
tie house opposite Ford's theater. An
officer who knew me cleared a way for
Vi to the door. Reporters, statesmen,
citizens and their families were
massed In the street waiting with tear
stained faces for the end. Some Of
them were sobbing as we passed. We
were admitted without delay. A min
lister and the doctor sat by the bedside.
The latter held an open watch in his
hand. / could hear it ticking the last
moments In an age Of history. What
q silence as the great soul OF my friend
was breaking camp to go home"
Friends of the family and members Of
the cabinet were In the room. Through
the open door Of a room beyond I
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