Innately attached to letters, and precocious, Abraham Lincoln soon
learned his letters and drank in all the learning that his few books
could supply. Hence at an early age he became the oracle on the rude
frontier, where even a smattering made him handy and valuable to the
illiterate backwoodsmen. Besides, as working at any place and at any
work, he rarely abided long in any one spot, and had not what might be
called a home in his teens.
Dennis Hanks, his cousin, said of Abraham, at fourteen to eighteen:
"Abe was a good talker, a good reader, and a kind of newsboy." Hence he
was a sort of volunteer colporteur distributing gossip, as a notion
pedler, before he was a store clerk where centered all the local news.
It was on this experience that he would mingle with the newspaper
reporters and telegraph men fraternally, saying with his winning smile
and undeniable "push":
"Let me in, boys, for I am somewhat of a news-gatherer myself."
And then he would fix his footing by one of his stories, always--well,
often--uttered with a view to publication.
* * * * *
"A LITTLE MORE LIGHT AND A LITTLE LESS NOISE."
As the President was a diligent devourer of the newspaper in the
vexatious times (as at all others), he met many a torrent of criticism,
incitement, and counsels which left him stunned rather than alleviated.
To a special correspondent who hampered him, he said:
"Your papers remind me of a little story. There was a gentleman
traveling on horseback in the West where the roads were few and bad and
no settlements. He lost his way. To make matters worse, as night came
on, a terrible thunder-storm arose; lightning dazzled the eye or
thunder shook the earth. Frightened, he got off and led his horse,
seeking to guide himself by the spasmodic and flickering electric
light. All of a sudden, a tremendous crash brought the man in terror to
his knees, when he stammered:
"'Oh, Lord! if it be the same to Thee, give us a little more light and
a little less noise!'"
* * * * *
"MY PART OF THE SHIP IS ANCHORED."
Among the first men called out was a young Massachusetts man, Burrage,
who went as a private. Grievously wounded, he was sent into the
hospital and then to his home. Recuperated, he joined his old regiment
at the front. He was unaware that strict orders were out against the
soldiers exchanging newspapers, and so performed the daily courtesy of
giving a paper to the rebels; they had two, and he promised to give
them the one due next time. This was held as keeping up correspondence
with the Johnnies, and the authorities reduced him to the ranks, as he
was then a captain. Worse and worse, the enemy seized him when he went
out to redeem his promise about the news, and he was imprisoned on
their side. This regalled his wounds and he was a great sufferer. The
Massachusetts member of Congress, Alexander Rice, pleaded with the
President for his native citizen. The complication was that Burrage was
a captain when captured, but a private again soon after, and the rebels
would probably hold him at the higher rate if an exchange was allowed,
while the Union War Department stood for his being but a common soldier.
"If General Wadsworth raises that point," replied the President, who
had allowed this pathetic case to break his rule to deal with classes
and not individual offenses, "tell him if he could take care of the
exchange part, I guess I can take care of the rank part!"
It is clear that the President saw in this punctilio about a humane
act, whose "offense was _ranker_."
It reminded one of the story of the New England skipper who, with his
mate--and crew of a small fisher--owned the vessel. They having
quarreled and the captain bidding the other mind his part of the ship,
the latter did so, and presently came to the stern to report:
"Captain, I have anchored my part of the ship! Take care of your own."
* * * * *