Lincoln’s habits at the White House were as simple as they were at his
old home in Illinois.
He never alluded to himself as “President,” or as occupying “the
Presidency.”
His office he always designated as “the place.”
“Call me Lincoln,” said he to a friend; “Mr. President” had become so
very tiresome to him.
“If you see a newsboy down the street, send him up this way,” said he to
a passenger, as he stood waiting for the morning news at his gate.
Friends cautioned him about exposing himself so openly in the midst of
enemies; but he never heeded them.
He frequently walked the streets at night, entirely unprotected; and
felt any check upon his movements a great annoyance.
He delighted to see his familiar Western friends; and he gave them
always a cordial welcome.
He met them on the old footing, and fell at once into the accustomed
habits of talk and story-telling.
An old acquaintance, with his wife, visited Washington. Mr. and Mrs.
Lincoln proposed to these friends a ride in the Presidential carriage.
It should be stated in advance that the two men had probably never seen
each other with gloves on in their lives, unless when they were used as
protection from the cold.
The question of each--Lincoln at the White House, and his friend at the
hotel--was, whether he should wear gloves.
Of course the ladies urged gloves; but Lincoln only put his in his
pocket, to be used or not, according to the circumstances.
When the Presidential party arrived at the hotel, to take in their
friends, they found the gentleman, overcome by his wife’s persuasions,
very handsomely gloved.
The moment he took his seat he began to draw off the clinging kids,
while Lincoln began to draw his on!
“No! no! no!” protested his friend, tugging at his gloves. “It is none
of my doings; put up your gloves, Mr. Lincoln.”
So the two old friends were on even and easy terms, and had their ride
after their old fashion.