ell from his lips "like the winter snows."

"They shook our hearts as the wind shakes the branches of a tree," Samson
writes in his diary. "The lean, bony body of the boy was transfigured and
as I looked at his face in the firelight I thought it was handsome.

"Not a word was spoken for a minute after he sat down. I had got my first
look at Lincoln. I had seen his soul. I think it was then I began to
realize that a man was being made among us 'more precious than fine gold;
even a man more precious than the golden wedge of Ophir.'"

The Doctor gazed in silence at the boy. Kelso sat with both hands in his
pockets and his chin upon his breast looking solemnly into the fire.

"Thank you, Abe," he said in a low voice. "Something unusual has happened
and I'm just a little scared."

"Why?" Abe asked.

"For fear somebody will spoil it with another hog story. I'm a little
afraid of anything I can say. I would venture this, that the man Webster
is a prophet. In his Plymouth address he hears receding into never
returning distance the clank of chains and all the horrid din of slavery.
It will come true."

"Do you think so?" Abe asked.

"Surely--there are so many of us who hate it. These Yankees hate it and
they and their children are scattering all over the midlands. Their
spirit will guide the West. The love of Liberty is the salt of their
blood and the marrow of their bones. Liberty means freedom for all. Wait
until these babies, coming out here by the wagon load, have grown to
manhood. Slavery will have to reckon with them."

"I hate it too," said Abe. "Down the Mississippi I have seen men and
women sold like oxen. If I live I'm going to hit that thing on the head
some day."

"Do you still want to be a lawyer?" Kelso asked.

"Yes, but sometimes I think I'd make a better blacksmith," said Abe.

"I believe you'd do better with the hammer of argument."

"If I had the education likely I would. I'm trying to make up my mind
what's best for me."

"No, you're trying to decide what is best for your friends and your
country and for the reign of law and justice and liberty."

"But I think every man acts from selfish motives," Abe insisted.

Dr. Allen demurred as follows:

"The other night you happened to remember that you had overcharged Mrs.
Peters for a jug of molasses and after you had closed the store you
walked three miles to return the money which belonged to her. Why did you
do it?"

"For a selfish motive," sa