ew felt that they could afford to engage in it. One
who needed such aid went to Edward D. Baker, and was refused, distinctly
and frankly on the ground that as a political man he could not afford
it. The man applied to an ardent anti-slavery friend for advice. He
spoke of Mr. Lincoln, and said, 'He's not afraid of an unpopular case.
When I go for a lawyer to defend an arrested fugitive slave, other
lawyers will refuse me. But if Mr. Lincoln is at home he will always
take my case.'"
An old woman of seventy-five years, the widow of a revolutionary
pensioner, came tottering into his law office one day, and told him that
a certain pension agent had charged her the exorbitant fee of two
hundred dollars for collecting her pension. Lincoln was satisfied by
her representations that she had been swindled, and finding that she was
not a resident of the town, and that she was poor, gave her money, and
set about the work of procuring restitution. He immediately entered suit
against the agent to recover a portion of his ill-gotten money. This
suit was one of the most remarkable that Lincoln ever conducted. The day
before the case came up he asked his partner, Mr. Herndon, to get him a
"Life of Washington," and he spent the whole afternoon reading it. His
speech to the jury was long remembered. The whole court-room was in
tears as he closed with these words: "Gentlemen of the jury. Time rolls
by. The heroes of '76 have passed away. They are encamped on the other
shore. This soldier has gone to his rest, and now, crippled, blinded,
and broken, his widow comes to you and to me, gentlemen of the jury, to
right her wrongs. She was not always as you see her now. Once her step
was elastic. Her face was fair. Her voice was as sweet as any that rang
in the mountains of old Virginia. Now she is old. She is poor and
defenceless. Out here on the prairies of Illinois, hundreds of miles
from the scenes of her childhood, she appeals to you and to me who enjoy
the privileges achieved for us by the patriots of the Revolution for our
sympathetic aid and manly protection. I have but one question to ask
you, gentlemen of the jury. Shall we befriend her?" During the speech
the defendant sat huddled up in the court-room, writhing under the lash
of Lincoln's tongue. The jury returned a verdict for every cent that
Lincoln had asked. He became the old lady's surety for costs, paid her
hotel bill and sent her home rejoicing. He made no charges for his own
or
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