During the war, one of the Northern Governors, who was able, earnest
and untiring in aiding the administration, but always complaining,
sent dispatch after dispatch to the War Office, protesting against
the methods used in raising troops. After reading all his papers,
the President said, in a cheerful and reassuring tone to the
Adjutant-General:
“Never mind, never mind; those dispatches don’t mean anything. Just go
right ahead. The Governor is like a boy I once saw at a launching. When
everything was ready, they picked out a boy and sent him under the ship
to knock away the trigger and let her go.
“At the critical moment everything depended on the boy. He had to do the
job well by a direct, vigorous blow, and then lie flat and keep still
while the boat slid over him.
“The boy did everything right, but he yelled as if he were being
murdered from the time he got under the keel until he got out. I thought
the hide was all scraped off his back, but he wasn’t hurt at all.
“The master of the yard told me that this boy was always chosen for that
job; that he did his work well; that he never had been hurt, but that he
always squealed in that way.
“That’s just the way with Governor--. Make up your mind that he is not
hurt, and that he is doing the work right, and pay no attention to his
squealing. He only wants to make you understand how hard his task is,
and that he is on hand performing it.”