unty."

"Why don't you go to the growing and prosperous town of Springfield," Mr.
Lincoln asked. "The capitol will be there, and so will I. It is going to
be a big city. Men who are to make history will live in Springfield.
You must come and help. The state will need a man of your good sense. It
would be a great comfort to me to have you and Sarah and Harry and the
children near me. I shall need your friendship, your wisdom and your
sympathy. I shall want to sit often by your fireside. You'll find a good
school there for the children. If you'll think of it seriously, I'll try
to get you into the public service."

"We need you plenty," Samson answered. "We kind o' think o' you as one o'
the family. I'll talk it over with Sarah and see. Never mind the job. If
I keep you behavin' yourself, it'll be job enough. Anyway, I guess we can
manage to get along. Sarah's uncle in Boston died last month and left her
a little money. If we can get what we have well invested, all I shall
need will be a few acres and a few tools and some friends to swap stories
with."

"I've had a talk with Stuart and have some good news for Harry and Bim,"
said young Mr. Lincoln. "Stuart thinks she can get a divorce under the
law of 1827. I suppose they are still interested in each other."

"He's like most of the Yankees. Once he gets set, it's hard to change
him. The Kelsos have moved to Chicago, and I don't know how Bim stands.
If Harry knows, he hasn't said a word to us about it."

"I'm interested in that little romance," said the legislator. "It's our
duty to do what we can to secure the happiness of these young lovers. We
mustn't neglect that in the pressure of other things. They and their
friends are dear to me. Tell Harry to come over here. I want to talk with
him."

This dialogue was about the last incident in the visit of Samson Traylor.

Late in the historic session of that spring, wherein the Whigs adopted
the convention system of nominations and many plans were made for the
expenditure of visionary millions, young Mr. Lincoln received a letter
from his friend, Mrs. Bennet Able of New Salem, which conveyed a shock to
his nerves. Before, he had gone to the session, Mrs. Able had said to him
lightly:

"Abe, I'll ask my sister Mary to come up here for a visit if you'll agree
to marry her."

"All right," the young man had answered playfully. He remembered Mary.
When he had left Kentucky, years before, Mary--a slender, sweet-faced
girl-