Of his Washington experience in 1848, Lincoln brought a pack of tales
about the statesmen then prominent. He declared to have heard of Daniel
Webster the subjoined:
In school little Dan had been guilty of some misdoing for which he was
called up to the teacher to be caned on the hand. His hands were dirty,
and to save appearance he moistened his right hand, on his way up, and
wiped it on his pants. Nevertheless, it looked so foul on presentation
to the ferule that the teacher sharply protested:
"Well, this is hard to beat! If you will find another hand in this room
as filthy, I will let you off!"
Daniel popped out his left hand, modestly kept in the background, and
readily cried:
"Here it is, sir!"
(Told by Lincoln before "the Honorable Mr. Odell, and others." This is
not the ex-governor, Mr. Odell, of New York, who pleads guilty to the
editor of "being too young to have the honor of speaking with Mr.
Lincoln." The worse luck--both would have profited by the mutual
pleasure.)
* * * * *
"I RECKON I TOOK MORE THAN MY SHARE."
Lincoln confessed at the outset of life that he was going to avoid
society, as its frequentation was incompatible with study. He avowed at
the same time that he liked it, which enhanced the sacrifice. No doubt
so, since his Washington sojourn and his legal and legislative company
earned him the title of the prince of good fellows. To be coupled with
the genial Martin van Buren with the same epithet was, indeed, a
compliment.
At Washington he had, in 1848, made acquaintance with the fashionable
world. He preferred the livelier and less strait ways of the
Congressional boarding-house table, the Saturday parties at Daniel
Webster's, and the motley crowd at the bowling-alley, as well as the
chatterers' corner in the Congressional post-office. Still, as chairman
of a committee, and by reason of his being a wonder from the hirsute
West, he was invited to the receptions and feasts of the first
families. Green to the niceties of the table, he committed errors--so
frankly apologized for and humorously treated that he lost no standing.
At one dinner the experience was new to him of the dish of currant
jelly being passed around for each guest to transfer a little to his
plate. So he took it as a sweet, oddly accompanying the venison, and
left but little on the general plate. But after tasting it, he
perceived that the compote-dish was going the rounds, and suddenly
looking pointedly at his plate and then at the hostess, with a troubled
air, he said, with convincing simplicity:
"It looks as though I took more than my share."--(Supplied by the
hostess, and collected by J. R. Speed.)
* * * * *