The Crisis, Volume 3

e looks backward now, he laughs to think that he did not suspect the Judge of being an ally of the two who are mentioned above. The sum total of Mr. Whipple's words and advices to him

nd a slab of limestone on the pavement below, and

inion that Mr. Whipple had

rly of a put-up job, although Step

e emerged from his den. Instead of turning to the right, he strode straight to Steph

you are to take the six

Chicago road tomorrow

ino

s s

this envelope into the hands of Mr. Abraham L

tephen, rising and straddl

liver it into Mr. Lincoln's hands. If he is not in Springfield, find out where he is and follo

ned Douglas. In spite of their complacent amusement, he had won a little admiration from conservative citizens who did not believe in the efficacy of Judge Douglas's Squatter Sovereignty. Likewise this Mr. Lincoln, who had once been a rail-sputter, was up

nvulnerable in the armor of his oratory. And he was known far and wide as the Littl

n fine print in a corner of the Democrat. Perhaps this Lincoln might not be in; Springfield; perhaps he, Stephen Bric

way when he spat, where was the office of Lincoln & Herndon. The stranger spat twice, regarded Mr. Brice pityingly, and finally led him in silence past the picket fence and the New England-looking meeting-house opposite until they came to the great square on which the State House squatted. T

e brick pavement, to regard the straggling line of stores and houses which surrounded and did homage to the yellow pile. The brick house in which Mr. Lincoln's office was had decorations above the windows. Mounting the stair, Stephen found a room bare enough, save for a few chairs and law books, a

aid he, "who be you

incoln," s

the dirty top step; and gave ven

come to the

his office," said Ste

?" said the citiz

t has to do with it,"

n, critically, "if you

might stan

nt of claiming Boston,

with a message for Mr

rom down East," said th

ion. "I reckon old Abe'

ever hear of Stephen A

ias the Idol of

ngth he paused in front of a wooden house of a dirty grayish brown, too high for its length and breadth, with tall shutters of the same color, and a picket fence on top of the retaining wall which lifted the yard above the plank walk. It was an ugly house, surely. But an ugly house may look beautiful when surrounded by

re Mr. Lincoln lives

on, and he lives right here when he's at

ginning to realize the purport o

. He told Stephen that he looked wilted, invited him into the house to have a glass of lemonade, and to join him and another boy in a

er, enviously, "then you'l

Freeport debate was not as keen as it might have been. Late in the afternoon he changed at Bloomington to the Illinois Central Railroad: The sun fell down behind the cardboard edge o

sion, He tried to doze; but two men, a farmer and a clerk, got in at a w

rk, "think of him oppo

a way of sayin' things that's clear. We boys can f

panion

nt? Judge Douglas has worked it all out. He's smart. Let the territories take care of themselves. Besides, Abe ain't got n

he farmer answered solemnly.

ciful night hid from his view the forlorn station and the ragged

and politicians swarming its narrow porch and narrower hall. Discussions in all keys were in progress, and it, was with vast difficulty that our distracted young man pushed through and found the landlord, This personage was the coolest of the lot. Confusion was but f

o, sirree, the Honerable Abe, and Mister Hill, and Jedge Oglesby is sleepin' in seven." The smell of perspiration was stifling as Stephen pushed up to the master of the situat

able in the dining-room. A sense of humor not quite extinct made him smile as he devoured pork chops and greasy

porters?" asked that worthy, with a

end den

like 'em. Guess you'

nd he added, outs of force of h

ody in there but Ben Billings, and the four Beaver brothers, an'

acked heartiness. But perceiving his host stil

incoln gon

-past ten? Wal I recko

didate of the Republican Party in Illinois were novel, at any r

boys, is because he's havin' some sort of confab with the

He was emboldened by the apparent lack of ceremony of th

up an' knock at the do

ight s

ow Mr. Lincoln?

he room. There ain't nobody I

rs to the low second story. All the bedroom doors were flung open except one, on which the n

e-downs, and four Windsor chairs in more or less state of dilapidation-all occupied likewise. A country glass lamp was balanced on a rough shelf, and under it a young man sat absorbed in making notes, and apparently oblivious to the noise

d of a discussion of the campaign with the other gentlemen, Mr. Lincoln was defending wha

f cussing in your speeches, and perhaps it

ll rip out something once in a while

air. His thick lower lip crept over in front of the

er tell you about Sam'l, th

g, uncouth man of the plains was beginning to puzzle him. The face, with its crude features and deep furrows, relaxed into i

ot sparks. And the old man used to wrastle with him nights and speak about punishment, and pray for him in meeting. But it didn't do any good. When anything wen

ays he, 'I

anding over a big rat hole, where the

ys he, 'fetc

etched t

a rat. Never mind thy dinner. And when thou hast him, if I hear the

sat hunched over an imaginary rat hole, for all the world like a gawky Quaker apprentice. And this was a candidat

have some fun with Sam'l. But Sam'l sat there, and sat there, and sat there, and after a while the old man pulled out his dinner-pail. Sam'l

moned up a good one, to t

egan to drop in again, but Sam'l, he sat there. 'Long towards night the boys collected 'round the door. They were getting kind of interested. Sam'l, he never looked up." Here Mr. Linc

ht the umbrellas t

s Sam'l, 'I hav

ey heard a terrified squeal, and there was the rat squirming and wriggling,-it seemed before their very eyes. And