File:Lincoln at work - sketches from life (1900) (14785912653).jpg

Identifier: lincolnatworks2280stod (find matches)
Title: Lincoln at work : sketches from life
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Stoddard, William Osborn, 1835-1925 Gallagher, Sears, 1869-1955, ill
Subjects: Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865
Publisher: Boston Chicago : United Society of Christian Endeavor
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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e House at night, in war time. To tellthe truth, we had not supposed that there wasanybody else awake in this part of the build-ing. Mr. JS~icolay was at his desk across the hall,however; and he at once put down his penand came over to find out what was going on.Of course the story had to begin again, and itwent on as if there were no ghosts of lostbattles stalking dismally along the shadowedcorridors of the national headquarters. Thefunny point was reached a second time, andagain the peals of reckless merriment wentout to startle the proprieties, if they had beenthere. John, just tell that story over again. Iwant to hear it. The hall door had opened silently, and inwalked President Lincoln, his dark face bright-ening with a smile of relief. Down he sat,right there, in Andrew Jacksons chair, andstretched himself out to hear the story. For LINCOLN AT WORK once, you see, he had gone all the way out ofhis workshop, leaving even his tools behindhim ; and none of the other workmen, states-
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JOHN, JUST TELL THAT STORY OVER AGAIN. men or generals, were anywhere near. He washiding away in a sort of place of refuge, everso far away from councils and camps andbattle-fields. THE DARK WORK-ROOM 69 John Hay did not stir from his post at themantel, and he began at the beginning, doingit better than ever. That same first ludicrousclimax was reached, and neither of us boyslaughed more unrestrainedly than did thePresident. His feet came heavily down uponthe floor, and he lay away back in AndrewJacksons chair. The laughter was checked atlast, and the narrative had just begun again,when the half-closed door from the hall waspushed open widely. Your Excellency, its Mr. Seward. Hesgone into your room, sir. I think it is Mr.Stanton, too, and a gineral with him. Maybe its Gineral Hallick, thats coming up thestairs. There stood old Edward Moran, thedoorkeeper, rubbing his hands one over theother and looking almost comically regretfuland apologetic. He was the last man to in-terrupt fun wil

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