he
turkey and Tad had become bosom friends. Tad named him Jack and used
more patience in trying to teach him tricks than he could ever be
persuaded to give to his lessons. One day just before the holiday,
while President Lincoln was discussing a matter of gravest importance
with his cabinet ministers, Tad burst into the room as if shot out of a
cannon and sobbing as if nothing could ever comfort him. Of course,
business came to a standstill while Tad explained; Jack was about to be
killed, he must not be killed, it was wicked, and Tad had forced the
executioners to stay their hands while he laid the case before the
President. Jack should _not_ be killed! sobbed out the indignant little
tyrant.

"But," said the President quietly, "Jack was sent to be killed and
eaten for this very Christmas."

"I can't help it," roared Tad, between his sobs. "He's a good turkey
and I don't want him killed."

The President of the United States paused in the midst of the important
business under discussion, and with the gravity due to a solemn
occasion, took a card and wrote on it an order of reprieve for the
turkey, which Tad seized, and fled with all speed, and Jack's life was
saved. He became very tame, and roamed peacefully about the grounds at
will, enduring petting and teasing alternately, from his capricious
young master. At that time the White House was guarded by a company of
soldiers from Pennsylvania with whom the turkey was a great favourite.
The tents of these soldiers were on the Potomac side of the White
House, at the end of the South lawn, and in the summer of 1864 a
commission was sent down from Pennsylvania to take the votes of the
Pennsylvania soldiers in Washington for the coming election. Tad was,
as usual, much interested in what was going on, and dragged his father
to the window to see the soldiers voting, while Jack stalked around
among them, apparently intelligent and interested.

"Does Jack vote?" asked Lincoln with a roguish twinkle in his eye.

For a moment Tad was nonplussed by the unexpected question, but he was
as quick as he was keen, and rallying, he answered:

"Why no, of course not. He isn't of age yet!"

Another of Tad's great diversions was to stand around among the crowd
of office-seekers who daily filled the corridors leading to President
Lincoln's office, for their turn to see the President. Tad used to talk
with them, while they waited, asking them all sorts of impertinent
questions which w