File:Lincoln at work - sketches from life (1900) (14785927673).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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themain street. Hardly had we reached it whenwe saw a large, portly man coming up theavenue. In one hand he carried a long, heavy,naked bowie-knife; in the other hand a redsilk handkerchief, with which he now and thenwiped his face. Lincoln is dead! Lincoln is dead! D—n!—for this man was weeping bitterly and swear-ing, pouring forth angry curses upon the wretchwho had slain the good President. He hadbeen a Confederate Army officer, and also acivil court official under the general Confeder-ate government. He did not look at us orspeak to us, and we walked on. He was inmany respects a representative man, belongingto the educated higher class of the Southwest. Not many yards beyond him we met a short,gnarled, rugged sort of man who had been anative Arkansas Unionist. He was of unusualintelligence, and had recently been elected to THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH Congress by one of the Mississippi Eiverdistricts. lie, too, was crying like a child ashe walked along, talking to himself about this
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11 Lincoln is dead! Lincoln is dead! disaster to the South; and he was all thewhile swearing fiercely, as one who did notknow or care what he was saying. Not aword did he speak to either of us, although he 170 LINCOLN AT WORK knew us well; and we passed on as two menwho were dreaming. Wandering near a line of shanties that wereoccupied by colored people, we saw a numberof men and women, half-clad, hurrying out tofasten rude strips of black stuff at theirhumble doorways. All of these were mourn-ing loudly, as if they had lost their father. More and more did it seem like some im-probable dream, but only a few minutes laterI had to spring forward and restrain someUnion soldiers who were dashing furiouslyalong with their knives out, in hot pursuit of afugitive who was barely rescued from them. Why, Colonel, they told me, we ought tokill him ! When he heard of Lincolns murder,he said it was good enough for him ! They obeyed me, nevertheless, even whilethey still angrily asserted that such

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