used to speaking out of doors and was afraid of
speaking too loud.

"He said 'Mr. Cheerman,' instead of 'Mr. Chairman,' and employed many
other words with an old-fashioned pronunciation. I said to myself, 'Old
fellow, you won't do; it is all very well for the Wild West, but this
will never go down in New York.' But pretty soon he began to get into
the subject; he straightened up, made regular and graceful gestures; his
face lighted as with an inward fire; the whole man was transfigured.

"I forgot the clothing, his personal appearance, and his individual
peculiarities. Presently, forgetting myself, I was on my feet with the
rest, yelling like a wild Indian, cheering the wonderful man. In the
close parts of his argument you could hear the gentle sizzling of the
gas burners.

"When he reached a climax the thunders of applause were terrific. It
was a great speech. When I came out of the hall my face was glowing with
excitement and my frame all a-quiver. A friend, with his eyes aglow,
asked me what I thought of 'Abe' Lincoln, the rail-splitter. I said,
'He's the greatest man since St. Paul.' And I think so yet."

BOY WAS CARED FOR.

President Lincoln one day noticed a small, pale, delicate-looking
boy, about thirteen years old, among the number in the White House
antechamber.

The President saw him standing there, looking so feeble and faint, and
said: "Come here, my boy, and tell me what you want."

The boy advanced, placed his hand on the arm of the President's chair,
and, with a bowed head and timid accents, said: "Mr. President, I have
been a drummer boy in a regiment for two years, and my colonel got angry
with me and turned me off. I was taken sick and have been a long time in
the hospital."

The President discovered that the boy had no home, no father--he had
died in the army--no mother.

"I have no father, no mother, no brothers, no sisters, and," bursting
into tears, "no friends--nobody cares for me."

Lincoln's eyes filled with tears, and the boy's heart was soon made glad
by a request to certain officials "to care for this poor boy."

THE JURY ACQUITTED HIM

One of the most noted murder cases in which Lincoln defended the accused
was tried in August, 1859. The victim, Crafton, was a student in his
own law office, the defendant, "Peachy" Harrison, was a grandson of
Rev. Peter Cartwright; both were connected with the best families in the
county; they were brothers-in-law, and had always b