e looks backward now, he laughs to think that he did not suspect the Judge of being an ally of the two who are mentioned above. The sum total of Mr. Whipple's words and advices to him
nd a slab of limestone on the pavement below, and
inion that Mr. Whipple had
rly of a put-up job, although Step
e emerged from his den. Instead of turning to the right, he strode straight to Steph
you are to take the six
Chicago road tomorrow
ino
s s
this envelope into the hands of Mr. Abraham L
tephen, rising and straddl
liver it into Mr. Lincoln's hands. If he is not in Springfield, find out where he is and follo
ned Douglas. In spite of their complacent amusement, he had won a little admiration from conservative citizens who did not believe in the efficacy of Judge Douglas's Squatter Sovereignty. Likewise this Mr. Lincoln, who had once been a rail-sputter, was up
nvulnerable in the armor of his oratory. And he was known far and wide as the Littl
n fine print in a corner of the Democrat. Perhaps this Lincoln might not be in; Springfield; perhaps he, Stephen Bric
way when he spat, where was the office of Lincoln & Herndon. The stranger spat twice, regarded Mr. Brice pityingly, and finally led him in silence past the picket fence and the New England-looking meeting-house opposite until they came to the great square on which the State House squatted. T
e brick pavement, to regard the straggling line of stores and houses which surrounded and did homage to the yellow pile. The brick house in which Mr. Lincoln's office was had decorations above the windows. Mounting the stair, Stephen found a room bare enough, save for a few chairs and law books, a
aid he, "who be you
incoln," s
the dirty top step; and gave ven
come to the
his office," said Ste
?" said the citiz
t has to do with it,"
n, critically, "if you
might stan
nt of claiming Boston,
with a message for Mr
rom down East," said th
ion. "I reckon old Abe'
ever hear of Stephen A
ias the Idol of
ngth he paused in front of a wooden house of a dirty grayish brown, too high for its length and breadth, with tall shutters of the same color, and a picket fence on top of the retaining wall which lifted the yard above the plank walk. It was an ugly house, surely. But an ugly house may look beautiful when surrounded by
re Mr. Lincoln lives
on, and he lives right here when he's at
ginning to realize the purport o
. He told Stephen that he looked wilted, invited him into the house to have a glass of lemonade, and to join him and another boy in a
er, enviously, "then you'l
Freeport debate was not as keen as it might have been. Late in the afternoon he changed at Bloomington to the Illinois Central Railroad: The sun fell down behind the cardboard edge o
sion, He tried to doze; but two men, a farmer and a clerk, got in at a w
rk, "think of him oppo
a way of sayin' things that's clear. We boys can f
panion
nt? Judge Douglas has worked it all out. He's smart. Let the territories take care of themselves. Besides, Abe ain't got n
he farmer answered solemnly.
ciful night hid from his view the forlorn station and the ragged
and politicians swarming its narrow porch and narrower hall. Discussions in all keys were in progress, and it, was with vast difficulty that our distracted young man pushed through and found the landlord, This personage was the coolest of the lot. Confusion was but f
o, sirree, the Honerable Abe, and Mister Hill, and Jedge Oglesby is sleepin' in seven." The smell of perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the situat
able in the dining-room. A sense of humor not quite extinct made him smile as he devoured pork chops and greasy
porters?" asked that worthy, with a
end den
like 'em. Guess you'
nd he added, outs of force of h
ody in there but Ben Billings, and the four Beaver brothers, an'
acked heartiness. But perceiving his host stil
incoln gon
-past ten? Wal I recko
didate of the Republican Party in Illinois were novel, at any r
boys, is because he's havin' some sort of confab with the
He was emboldened by the apparent lack of ceremony of th
up an' knock at the do
ight s
ow Mr. Lincoln?
he room. There ain't nobody I
rs to the low second story. All the bedroom doors were flung open except one, on which the n
e-downs, and four Windsor chairs in more or less state of dilapidation-all occupied likewise. A country glass lamp was balanced on a rough shelf, and under it a young man sat absorbed in making notes, and apparently oblivious to the noise
d of a discussion of the campaign with the other gentlemen, Mr. Lincoln was defending wha
f cussing in your speeches, and perhaps it
ll rip out something once in a while
air. His thick lower lip crept over in front of the
er tell you about Sam'l, th
g, uncouth man of the plains was beginning to puzzle him. The face, with its crude features and deep furrows, relaxed into i
ot sparks. And the old man used to wrastle with him nights and speak about punishment, and pray for him in meeting. But it didn't do any good. When anything wen
ays he, 'I
anding over a big rat hole, where the
ys he, 'fetc
etched t
a rat. Never mind thy dinner. And when thou hast him, if I hear the
sat hunched over an imaginary rat hole, for all the world like a gawky Quaker apprentice. And this was a candidat
have some fun with Sam'l. But Sam'l sat there, and sat there, and sat there, and after a while the old man pulled out his dinner-pail. Sam'l
moned up a good one, to t
egan to drop in again, but Sam'l, he sat there. 'Long towards night the boys collected 'round the door. They were getting kind of interested. Sam'l, he never looked up." Here Mr. Linc
ht the umbrellas t
s Sam'l, 'I hav
ey heard a terrified squeal, and there was the rat squirming and wriggling,-it seemed before their very eyes. And