The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1926-02-12
Official City. State and County Newspaper
Lincoln

Down in Kentucky, III distant, secluded district
Of the rolling foothills there stands a rude. print
tive log cabin. 1t is desolate little building al
most howell; and yet it is one cf the greatest
buildings in the world.
In Washington, fronting wde placid pool of
water, rises a building which is everything the log
cabin is not 1t is spacious stately beautiful, but of
marble to endure for centuries. And it was raised
to honor the memory of the who born in
the squalid cabin.
The log cabin was Abraham Lincolns birthplace;
the building at Washington is the Lincoln Memorial
most beautiful of all the capitals monuments.
Cons dering first the building and then thu
other, wonders if people, centuries hence. will
not almost think that Abraham Lincoln was
myth
For the whole story of the like
tale that someone invented than the actual bog-
raphy of real man. 1t is perfect - almost
beevable. A boy born in mean hut in print
tive backwoods settlement = doomed, one would
think, to life of unthnking toll and obscure
grave; raised without education other than that
which he dug out for himself by the Light Of
tallow candle; entirely without those advantages
which the poorest citizens have today; have this
boy growing and expanding to the proportions of
a Titan, rising in majesty and strength until he
stands forth as Of the greatest figures the New
And, if that not enough, We have this
retaining the touch; man whose
sympathies limtless as his vision; man
homely, commonplace, of the vast crowd; Il
with whom, we feel, could sit down and
joke comfortably with as we could with the man
next door.
And that, perhaps, is the greatest miracle of all.
Lincoln is the ore hero whom We who never saw
him, truly love we'll as admire. We feel
that he is of us, for all his greatness-that his
awkward tender smile flashed for John, the boot
black, and Tony, the street cleaner, warmly as
for little Tad Lincoln, who used to bounce ON the
great mans knee.
So we-Lincolns people-have preserved the rude
Kentucky hut from destruction simply because he
lived there and we have built dazzlingly beautiful
building in capital-not to keep his memory
alive for it can die but to show to the world
something of the depth Of feeling for the back
woods boy who rose to the seat Of the mighty.
And day after day the stone figure of the great
emancipation sits in the marble building and looks
cut the blue lagoon to where the white finger
of the Washington monument rises toward the sky.
And as we look at the silent, majestic figure we feel
that he is watching US, his countrymen, grow
and develop and struggle toward the distant
shining goal that he saw so clearly; watching us
with love and understanding, with tolerance
for the annel-mouthed politicians who invoke his
name glibly; knowing that he was not mistaken
in his people; and that will go and on for
ever, in the path he found for u.s.
In the north and the south men with tall hats
step onto stumps and play silvery acceerandos,
flashing people with a whip Of words.
The brawny west turns it's eyes toward Wash
ington and waits for the next pony express.
The clouds of war blot out the from the mag
noa covered cottages and the snowy hills.
1t is nation about to fight labor war within
its own boundaries, war over black mans skin
and the principle that all are born equal
From the prairies of Illinois stalks a gaunt
tragic figure the father of sorrows and the man of
mercy, the awkward gawk of ralsplitter come
into mans estate. The boy who scrubbed on a
shovel in a hut goes to the desk in the White House
to live chapter in the worlds days that no Homer
or Hugo, no Shaw Or Shelley could have written.
49, Father Abraham writes the chapter with hand
that never finches. And after it all he weeps like
mother Of lost men the ashes of heroism at
Gettysburg.
And the bright flame Of his words, of his life, Of
his courage and immortal sadness burn as a bright
torch forever
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