One day during the War an attractively and handsomely dressed woman
called on President Lincoln to procure the release from prison of a
relation in whom she professed the deepest interest.
She was a good talker, and her winning ways seemed to make a deep
impression on the President. After listening to her story, he wrote a
few words on a card: “This woman, dear Stanton, is a little smarter than
she looks to be,” enclosed it in an envelope and directed her to take it
to the Secretary of War.
On the same day another woman called, more humble in appearance, more
plainly clad. It was the old story.
Father and son both in the army, the former in prison. Could not the
latter be discharged from the army and sent home to help his mother?
A few strokes of the pen, a gentle nod of the head, and the little
woman, her eyes filling with tears and expressing a grateful
acknowledgment her tongue, could not utter, passed out.
A lady so thankful for the release of her husband was in the act of
kneeling in thankfulness. “Get up,” he said, “don’t kneel to me, but
thank God and go.”
An old lady for the same reason came forward with tears in her eyes
to express her gratitude. “Good-bye, Mr. Lincoln,” said she; “I shall
probably never see you again till we meet in heaven.” She had the
President’s hand in hers, and he was deeply moved. He instantly took her
right hand in both of his, and, following her to the door, said, “I am
afraid with all my troubles I shall never get to the resting-place you
speak of; but if I do, I am sure I shall find you. That you wish me to
get there is, I believe, the best wish you could make for me. Good-bye.”
Then the President remarked to a friend, “It is more than many can
often say, that in doing right one has made two people happy in one day.
Speed, die when I may, I want it said of me by those who know me best,
that I have always plucked a thistle and planted a flower when I thought
a flower would grow.”