e with no man's rights; and all I ask is
that, having something to say, you will give me a decent hearing. And,
being Illinoisans, Kentuckians, and Missourians--brave and gallant
people--I feel sure that you will do that. And now let us reason
together, like the honest fellows we are." Having uttered these words,
his face the very picture of good-nature and his voice full of
sympathetic earnestness, he mounted the speaker's stand and proceeded
to make one of the most impressive speeches against the further
extension of slavery that he ever made in his life. He was listened to
attentively; was applauded when he indulged in flashes of humor, and
once or twice his eloquent passages were lustily cheered. His little
opening remarks had calmed the threatening storm, had conquered his
enemies, and he had smooth sailing. From that day to the time of his
death, Abraham Lincoln held a warm place in the respect of very many
of those rough and rude "Egyptians," and he had no warmer supporters
for the Presidency, or while he was President, than they were.

Mr. Leonard Volk, the sculptor who afterwards made an excellent bust of
Lincoln, says: "My first meeting with Abraham Lincoln was in 1858, when
the celebrated Senatorial contest opened between him and Stephen A.
Douglas. I was invited by the latter to accompany him and his party by a
special train to Springfield, to which train was attached a platform-car
having on board a cannon, which made considerable noise on the journey.
At Bloomington we all stopped over night, as Douglas had a speech to
make there in the evening. The party went to the Landon House--the only
hotel, I believe, in the place at that time. While we were sitting in
the hotel office after supper, Mr. Lincoln entered, carrying an old
carpet-bag in his hand, and wearing a weather-beaten silk hat--too
large, apparently, for his head--a long, loosely-fitting frock-coat of
black alpaca, and vest and trousers of the same material. He walked up
to the counter, and, saluting the clerk pleasantly, passed the bag over
to him, and inquired if he was too late for supper. The clerk replied
that supper was over, but perhaps enough could be 'scraped up' for him.
'All right,' said Mr. Lincoln; 'I don't want much.' Meanwhile, he said,
he would wash the dust off. He was certainly very dusty; it was the
month of June, and quite warm. While he was so engaged, several old
friends, who had learned of his arrival, rushed in to see him, s