The Glenwood post., 1922-04-27
Lincoln of illinois,"

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 son of Illinois.
Then-the campaign with its crowds
its enthusiasm, its Vesuvian mutter-
lngs. There was curious touch of
bumor and history In its banners. Here
are three of them:
"N1enard County for the Tall
Sucker"
"We are for old Abe the Giant
Killer"
Link on to Lincoln"
Then-those last days in 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-
gether?' he asked.
sixteen years"
"Never cross word"
"Never"
"Keep the old sign hanging. A lit
tie thing like the election of Presi-
dent should make no change in the
firm of Lincoln and Herndon. If
live. I'm coming back some time and
then we'll go right on with the prac-
tice of the law rs if nothing had hap
pened."
Then-that Monday morning in
Springfield, at eight o'clock, on the
eleventh of February, the train bore
him toward the great task of his life
Hannah Armstrong, who had foxed
his trousers in New Salem, and the
venerable Doctor Allen and the Brim-
steads and Aleck Ferguson, bent with
age, and Harry Needles and BIN and
their four handsome children, and my
father and mother. and Betsey. my
maiden sister, and Eli Frendenberg
were there in the crowd to bid him
good-by.
quartet sang. Mr.. Lincoln asked
his friends and neghbOrS to pray for
his success. 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 lis who
stood trying to see through our tears
were again to look upon him. The
years of preparation We're ended and
those of sacrifice had begun.
Now, we are at the foot of the last
hill. For long time l had seen it
looming in the distance. Those days
it filed my heart with a great fear
Now, how beautiful, how lonely it
seems Oh, but what vineyard ON
that very fruitful Lill / speak low
when l think of 1t. Harry Needles
and | were on our way to Washington
that fateful night of April IA, 1860
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 way for
US 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 We're sobbing as we passed. We
We're 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
a silence as the great soul of my friend
was 'brealiing camp to go home"
Friends of the family and members of
the cabinet were in the room. Through
the open door of a room bevond
saw Mrs. Lincoln ana the cnldren ana
others. We looked at our friend lying
on the bed. His kindly face was pale
and haggard. He breathed family and
at long intervals. His end was near.
Poor Abel" Harry whispered as he
looked down at him. 'He has had to
die on the cross"
To most of those others Lincoln was
the great statesman. To Harry he was
the beloved Abe who had shared his
fare and his hardships in many long,
weary way.
The doctor put his ear against the
breast of the dying man. There was
a moment in which we could hear the
voices in the street. The doctor rose
and said: He is gone"
Secretary Stanton, who more than
once had spoken lightly of him. came
to the bedside and tenderly closed the
eyes of his master, saying:
"Now, he belongs to the ages"
We went out of the door. The sound
of mourning was in the streets. A
dozen bells We're tolling. ON the cor
ner of Tenth street "A quartet of ne
groes was singing that wonderful
prayer:
"Soing low, sweet chariot, comm
for - carry me home"
one of them. whose rich. deep bass
thrilled me and all who heard it, was
Roger Wentworth, the fugitive, who
had come to our house with BIN. in
the darkness Of the night, long before.
lTIE END.l
-r-