I think it was Melborn who was the prosecuting Attorney; before the
prosecution had opened the case Uncle Abe rose and said:
"May it please the Court, I have a motion to make before the prosecution
opens; and as it may save the Court some unnecessary labor, I hope it
will be entertained. _I move that the indictment be quashed and the
prisoner discharged!_"
The astonishment of the crowded Court room was immense, shared alike by
Judge, bar and spectators. As soon as the Judge recovered his equanimity
he asked:
"Upon what grounds is so extraordinary a motion made?"
"Why the man Johnson, was not murdered at all, and I have the pleasure
of introducing _him to the presence of the Court_."
Johnson was led forward. Hundreds recognized him immediately, The
excitement was so great that the Judge adjourned the Court.
It seems that the parties had quarreled, Johnson had been pushed into
the river, but had got out and wandered off in a state of partial
aberation of mind and had been working on a farm. His passion for
Metropolitan Bank Notes and his name suggested an idea that he was the
missing man, and he was opportunely produced in time to save a man from
being hung.
Joe Reed's Mule Hunt.
One of the best natured fellows in the world, when he is not mad, is
Joe Reed, of Logan County, Illinois, Joe is a staunch Republican--a real
rip-rarer in the cause, and has given Uncle Abe the lift of a mighty
broad pair of shoulders more than once, although at first he had a poor
opinion of the rail-splitter. Thereby hangs a tale.
In 18--, (the date is forgotten on account of the coldness of the
weather that winter,) Joe lost a couple of mules. After they had
been gone for a long time, he chanced to hear of them in a settlement
somewhere within the present bounds of Macon County. Illinois. At the
first opportunity Joe started on a mule hunt, determined to find either
the mules or some _trace_ of them. On reaching the neighborhood in
question, Joe was satisfied that an old fellow named Bosby Sheel, had
his mules; and when he went in person, and saw them, the assurance of
his eyes made "assurance double sure." He at once made claim, but the
old fellow had heard that possession was nine points of the law--he
declined to surrender them; Joe immediately appealed to old Squire
P------, who at once summoned the holder of the mules to his Court. The
Squire informed Joe that he would have to prove property; but Joe said
he would only have to swear to his property. In this dilemma, the Squire
adjourned Court till after dinner and remarked to Joe that he had better
get a lawyer.
"There is young Abe Lincoln, he don't live far from here, and he'll be
at my house after dinner."
As he was the only lawyer immediately thereabouts, Joe thought he had
best employ him, in order to "have the law on his side."
Soon after dinner a stranger arrived, and the Justice (who was landlord
of the only hotel in the settlement,) whispered to Joe, that that was
the lawyer.
"What!" exclaimed Joe, "that lean, lank gawky? Why, I'll bet both
of them mules I know more law nor he does, for I'm a 'Squire at home
myself--I am."
"But his looks is mighty deceivin', I tell you," said Boniface. "He's
gin out to be one of the piertest young fellows short o' Sangamon."
But Joe was decided, and the 'Squire re-convened his Court, he having
the meantime laid the case before his young friend, the lawyer, and got
his opinion.
Acting his own lawyer, Joe felt it due to his course to give a concise
statement of the law. As he stood up, he still continued to read from a
green-covered book that had engaged his attention most of the day It was
one of Cooper's latest novels. As Joe gave his version of the law, it
seemed to 'Squire P------ that he was _reading_ the law.
"Is that really the law?" said he, as Joe finished his version of the
law--not the book. "Let me see that book."
Joe mechanically handed it to him.
After pouring over it for some time, he handed it back, with an air of
disappointment, remarking:
"Drat me! if I see any sich law in that book."
"Well, it ain't no wonder ye don't--that's the _Red Rover_, a novel and
not a law book, and you've been and lost my place too," Joe found his
place, and continued: "what I told you is what the law says, and I know
it's so."
"Well, as you're a 'Squire, too, I reckon you ought to know. As the mules
don't belong to old man Bosby Sheel and you swear they are you'rn, I
hold he's bound to give'em up."
Joe rallied the old Squire rather hard about looking over the _Red
Rover_ for extra law, but finally "give a treat" and left the Squire and
his friend in the best of humors.
Said Uncle Abe when he had the small-pox, "I now can give something to
every one who calls."
Has no Influence with the Administration.
Judge Baldwin, an old and highly respectable and sedate gentleman,
called a few days since on Gen. Halleck, and presuming upon a familiar
acquaintance in California formerly, solicited a pass outside of our
lines, to see a brother in Virginia, not thinking that he would be met
with a refusal, as both his brother and himself were good Union men.
"We have been deceived too often," said General Halleck, "and I regret I
can't grant it."
Judge B. then went to Stanton, and was very briefly disposed of with the
same result. Finally he obtained an interview with Uncle Abe, and stated
his case.
"Have you applied to Gen. Halleck?" inquired the President.
"And met with a flat refusal," said Judge B.
"Then you must see Stanton," continued Uncle Abe.
"I have, and with the same result," was the reply.
"Well, then," said Uncle Abe, with a smile of good humor, "I can do
nothing; for you must know _that I have very little influence with this
Administration_."
A Touching Incident.
The following incident, which occurred at the White House, will appeal
to every heart. It reveals unmistakably the deep kindness of Uncle Abe's
character:
"At a reception recently at the White House, many persons present
noticed three little girls poorly dressed, the children of some mechanic
or laboring man, who had followed the visitors into the house to gratify
their curiosity. They were passed from room to room, and were passing
through the reception room with some trepidation, when Uncle Abe, called
to them: 'Little girls, are you going to pass me without shaking hands?'
Then he bent his tall, awkward form down, and shook each little girl
warmly by the hand. Everybody in the apartment was spellbound by the
incident, so simple in itself, yet revealing so much of Uncle Abe's
character."
A Lincoln Man Ducked.
During the canvass between Uncle Abe, and Peter Cartright, the
celebrated Pioneer Preacher, it chanced that Cartright, was returning to
his home from the Williamsville and Wiggins Lane settlement. The nearest
crossing of the Sangamon was at Carpenter's Mills, where there was the
convenience of a ferry instead of a bridge, as is now the case. Upon the
hill on the western side of the river, Cartright saw a man elevated upon
a barrel in front of a little grocery--and on nearing him, he discovered
that he was giving the Democrats in general, and Uncle Peter Cartright
in particular, a perfect fusilade of small shots of slang and abuse.
"I tell you, boys, I'm a Whig,--a real Harrison Tippacanoe and Tyler
too, Whig," said he. "I'm for putting down all these cuss'd locofocos,
and if we can't vote'em down, why I go for lickin'em' down. There's
long Abe Lincoln that's runnin' for the Legislature--he's the chap to
vote for. He's one of the people--split rails and got his edycation by
moonlight. He don't go round the country prayin' and preachin' like that
mean Methodist cuss, Peter Cartright, that's runnin' agin him. I'd like
to know what we wants of a parson to make laws for us? Just elect him,
and fust you know he'll have a bill into the Legislature, to fine us for
not goin' to meetin' or for drinkin' a glass of whisky. I'll tell
you what, if he ever comes round here, I'll just pass him inter the
Sangamon--certain--sure."
Just here Uncle Peter Cartright enquired for "the ferryman.
"I'm the ferry-man, old hoss," sung out the rustic orator, "and ken
put ye cross the river in no time." Uncle Peter signified his desire
to cross, and the twain started towards the ferry boat. The Preacher
stepping into the boat, hitched his horse to the side, while the
ferryman shoved out into the stream.
"So you are a Lincoln man?" queried Uncle Peter. "I'm that hoss."
"And so I presume you would douse a Cartright man if you had a chance?"
"I mought do it stranger."
"Certainly you would douse Mr. Cartright?"
"Sure's winkin', old fellow."
"Well Sir, I am Peter Cartright at your service," and before the
ferryman recovered from his surprise Uncle Peter pitched him into the
river, took the pole and put himself across the river.
The ferryman did'nt vote for Uncle Peter but he altered his opinion of
Methodist preachers in general and Uncle Peter in particular.
A Comparison.
One day as Uncle Abe, and a friend were sitting on the House of
Representatives steps, the session closed, and the members filed out in
a body. Uncle Abe looked after them with a serious smile. "That reminds
me," said he, "of a little incident when I was a boy; my flat boat lay
up at Alton on the Mississippi, for a day, and I strolled about the
town. I saw a large stone building, with massive stone walls, not
so handsome though, as this, and while I was looking at it, the iron
gateway opened, and a great body of men came out. 'What do you call
that?' I asked a bystander. 'That,' said he, 'is the State Prison, and
those are all thieves going home. Their time is up.'"
"There's Enough for All."
Uncle Abe was terribly bored by the office seekers, even before the
Presidential house-warming had scarcely began. The Illinois politicians
were the most ravenous pap-Suckers of all.
"Just wait a little," said Uncle Abe, "I can assure you, as L------d
S------t did the swine, 'there's enough for all.'"
"Let us have the story, Uncle Abe," said one of the crowd, who evidently
expected something rich.
"Why, you see," began Uncle Abe, "I attended court many years ago at
Mt. Pulaski, the first county seat of Logan County, and there was the
jolliest set of rollicking young Lawyers there that you ever saw
together. There was Bill F------n, Bill H------n, L------d S------t, and
a lot more, and they mixed law and Latin, water and whisky, with equal
success. It so fell out that the whisky seemed to be possessed of the
very spirit of Jonah. At any rate, S------t went out to the hog-pen,
and, leaning over, began to 'throw up Jonah.' The hogs evidently thought
it feed time, for they rushed forward and began to squabble over the
voided matter.
"'Don't fight (hic),' said S------t: 'there's enough (hic) for all.'"
--The politicians couldn't see anything to laugh at, although the
"snubbin" was plain enough.
Making a President.
Uncle Abe, in elucidating his estimate of Presidential honors, tells a
clever story, as he always does, when he sets about it. It seems that
Windy Billy, who is a politician of no ordinary pretensions, was a
candidate for the Consulship of Bayonne, and he urged his appointment
with the eloquence of a Clay or a Seward. He boasted vociferously of his
activity in promoting the success of the Republican ticket, and averred
with his impassioned earnestness that he and he alone had made Uncle Abe
President.
"Ah!" exclaimed Uncle Abe, "and it was you who made me President, was
it?" a twinkle in his eye all the time.
"Yes," said Billy, rubbing his hands and throwing out his chest, as a
baggage-master would a small valise, "yes, I think I may say I am the
man who made you President."
"Well, Billy, my boy, if that's the case, it's a h--ll of a muss you got
me into, that's all."
Uncle Abe Boss of the Cabinet.
A prominent Senator was remonstrating with Uncle Abe a few days ago
about keeping Mr. Chase in his Cabinet, when it was as well known that
Mr. C. is opposed, tooth and nail, to Uncle Abe's re-election.
"Now, see here," said Uncle Abe, "when I was elected I resolved to hire
my four Presidential rivals, pay them their wages and be their 'boss.'
These were Seward, Chase, Cameron and Bates; but I got rid of Cameron
after he had played himself out. As to discharging Chase or Seward,
don't talk of it. I pay them their wages and am their boss, and would'nt
let either of them out on the loose for the fee simple of the Almaden
patent."
Uncle Peter Cartright's Wonder.
Some of the farmers in and about Saggamon county, Illinois, have been and
still are so intent on cattle-raising, that the business is a sort
of cattle-mania. Uncle Peter was one Sunday preaching near a good old
deacon of this sort, whose piety was somewhat like that of a card-playing
lady mentioned by Addison, (Spectator No. 7,) who had a set hour for her
devotions, and if she happened to be at a game, would get a friend to
"hold her hand" while she said her prayers. Our worthy deacon was rather
vain of his "gift" praying and saying "blessings" at table. As a matter
of courtesy, he might occasionally ask a visiting preacher to pray
or ask a blessing; but he never failed to exhibit his "gift" to his
visitors. He had a singsong way of "getting it off," at the same time
beating time with his hands on either side of his plate. On the occasion
alluded to, he began--"Oh Lord! (thump) bless the creature comforts
(thump) provided for our (thump) sustenance (thump.) Bless it (thump) to
our needs (thump) and necessities, (thump). Lead us aright, (thump) but
if we stray (thump) put us back (thump) into the right path, (thump).
Bless the stranger (thump) that comes beneath our roof, (thump) and keep
his feet (thump) in pleasant paths, (thump). What we ask (thump)
amiss, (thump) withhold; (thump) but grant us what our (thump)
short-sightedness omits, (thump) and thine be the glory (thump) now and
for ever, (thump) a------."
And here the old deacon stopped suddenly, opened his eyes, and looking
across the table, asked:
"Son John, did Mr. Jones settle yet for that Durham cow?"
"Yes, father--it's all right."
"Amen," concluded the deacon.
"Cattle! cattle!" exclaimed Uncle Peter in ill-concealed disgust.
"Why, you can't say your prayers without having cattle running through
your head; I wonder the Lord don't turn such Christians into cattle!"
Uncle Abe a Shaksperian.
When Uncle Abe was making a plea in one of the county Circuit Courts,
not far from Springfield, one of the lawyers becoming sensible that he
was being out-generaled, remarked to Uncle Abe, as he sat down--
"I smell a mice."
"Why don't you quote Shakspeare correctly?" said Uncle Abe.
"Why," said the other, "I was not aware that I Was quoting Shakspeare at
all."
"Certainly you were, and had you done it properly, it would have been
more expressive and less vulgar. The correct expression is, 'I smell a
device.'"
The Running Sickness.
In the Black Hawk war, Uncle Abe belonged to a militia company in the
service. On a scout, the company encountered the Indians, and in a
brisk skirmish drove them some miles, when, night coming on, our forces
encamped. Great was the consternation on discovering that Lincoln was
missing. His absence or rather his stories, from the bivouac, was a
misfortune. Suddenly, however, he came into camp. "Maj. Abe, is that
you? Thought you were killed. Where've you been?" were the startling
speculations. "Yes," said Uncle Abe, "this is me--ain't killed either."
"But where have you been all the time?"
"Oh, just over there."
"But what were you over there for? Didn't run away, did you?"
"No," said he deliberately, "I don't think I run away; but, after all, I
reckon if anybody had seen me going, and had been told I was going for a
doctor, he would have thought somebody was almighty sick."
How to Get Rid of Rats.
So thick had the rats become in Logan County, a few years ago, that the
means of getting rid of the nuisance was freely discussed. The newly
organized Agricultural Society, finally concluded to offer three
premiums for the then largest numbers. The man who took the largest
prize, exhibited over 1,700 scalps all caught in the space of three
weeks. At the time these prizes were pending, Uncle Abe attended Court
there, and Col. L------n, (a considerable gourmand,) by the way, was
discussing the best way to get rid of the rats, and finally asked Uncle
Abe's opinion.
"Why," said Uncle Abe, "rats are a 'cunning cattle,' and soon find out
how things are going. I introduce them to your table as a delicacy, and
when they find out you are making 'game' of them they will soon give you
a wide berth."
The Colonel winced under a faint impression; but silently ratified Uncle
Abe's conclusions. "Yes," chimed in M------, "we might go so far as to
use their pelts to ornament our winter clothing."