The Crisis, Volume 3

e low-ceiled room of the country tavern, reeking with the smell of coarse food and hot humanity. He remembers vividly how at first his gorge rose, and recalls how gradually there crept

y awake. And before his eyes was that strange, marked face, with its deep lines that blended both humor and sadness there. It was homely, and yet Stephen found

dering why Judge W

reaction came with the morning.

prostrate forms of the four Beaver brothers, reached the window. Clouds filled the s

his enthusiasm h

back to St. Louis. He had an early breakfast of fried eggs and underdone bacon, and coffee which made him pine for Hes

ed him, and every once in a while a knot would double up with laughter. There was no sign that the senatorial aspirant took the situation seriously; that the coming struggle with his skilful antagonist was weighing him down in the least.

said. "Mr. Lincoln asked me to get hold of

prawled (he could think of no other word to fit the attitude) on a seat next the window, and next him was Mr. Medill of the Press and Tribune. The seat just in front was reserve

ing out his hand. "Glad to see you. Just you sit

t there were others in that train who would

this Bostonian, Joe,"

tch 'em young to do anyt

e a notion how politics

r new Republican party?

is,

ncoln seemed to feel Medill's objections, as by mental telepathy. But he

forgot himself. He felt that this man was not one to feign an interest. The shouts of the peo

outhern Democrats," Mr. Lincoln re

Old Line Whigs, sir," v

, "did you ever hear Wa

ine W

dill h

and votes the Democratic ticket occasi

and two more in the seat behind,

leaders in Mr. Blair and others" (Mr. Lincoln nodded at the name). "We are getting an ever increasing population from New England, mostly of young men who will take kindly to the new party." And then

Mr. Lincoln surpri

lieve that the

ldiers if the time should come," said Mr. Lincoln

that observation, and the ac

equal in roughness to theirs, his manner if anything was more democratic,-yet in spite of all this Stephen in them detected a deference which might almost be termed a homage. There were many women among th

Dixon, Mr. Lincoln took off his hat, and produced a crumpled a

ere are the four questi

ready for yo

Mr. Medill. "But I tell you this. If you ask that se

ave had a blow from which it can scarcely reco

o hear them. His eyes were f

that moment. How were they to know that the fate of the United States of America was concealed in th

h the tousled hair, knew it. And the stone that was rejected

, and cleared his throat. In measured tones, plainly heard

gainst the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude slave

l listene

ate, and that is all the assurance these Northern Democrats wa

nswered Mr. Li

ment of the others; "then why the devil are you wearing your

d his hand on M

ou know, where to set your trap in the larder. I'll tell you why I'm in this campaign: to catch Doug

nce, broken by t

on as ever he got his breath, "what have we

ln smiled

eckon," he an

d!" said

dill g

of the Republican party, you don't

uglas there with his wings

r yes, that slavery ca

u

as been fostering ever since he has had the itch to be President. Without the solid South the Little Giant will never liv

re was a stout man standing in the aisle,

," said he, gloomily, "but the g

, Ed," said Mr. Linco

sagacious statesmanship, and (best of all)-the superb self sacrifice of it, struck him suddenly. I think it

thought of this new vital force which became part of him that day, it was in the terms of Emerson: "Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and

with Lincoln before and

as day. Jim Rickets, who had life all his own way, was none other than Stephen A. Douglas, the easily successful. The ugly galoot, who dared to raise his eyes

d quietly, he answered with a patient smile. Now and then he threw a story into the midst of this discussion which made them laugh in spite of themselves. The hopeles

The train was slowing down for Freeport. In the distance, bands could be heard playing, and along the track, line upon line of men

, Steve, you stick close to me, and you'll see the show. Why, boys," he

ay-car on a sidetrack. A brass canno