A lady reader or elocutionist came to Springfield in 1857. A large crowd
greeted her. Among other things she recited “Nothing to Wear,” a piece
in which is described the perplexities that beset “Miss Flora McFlimsy”
in her efforts to appear fashionable.
In the midst of one stanza in which no effort is made to say anything
particularly amusing, and during the reading of which the audience
manifested the most respectful silence and attention, some one in the
rear seats burst out with a loud, coarse laugh, a sudden and explosive
guffaw.
It startled the speaker and audience, and kindled a storm of
unsuppressed laughter and applause. Everybody looked back to ascertain
the cause of the demonstration, and were greatly surprised to find that
it was Mr. Lincoln.
He blushed and squirmed with the awkward diffidence of a schoolboy.
What caused him to laugh, no one was able to explain. He was doubtless
wrapped up in a brown study, and recalling some amusing episode,
indulged in laughter without realizing his surroundings. The experience
mortified him greatly.