up, so he swore my witness, with whom he was acquainted, and procuring a pen and ink from his tenant fixed the papers. "The judge and all the balance of us were in our shirt sleeves, and Mr. Lincoln remarked to the judge that it was a kind of shirt-sleeved court.

""Yes,' replied the judge, 'a shirt-sleeved court in a cornfield.' After the business had been transacted, Mr. Lincoln asked Judge Thomas if he did not want some help in rolling up the logs, and the judge replied that there were two logs that were pretty heavy and he would like to have us help roll them up. So before we left we helped roll the logs up, Mr. Lincoln steering one end and the judge the other. I offered to pay the judge for taking the deposition of my witness, but he said he guessed I had helped with the raising enough to pay for that and would take nothing for his work. When we got back to Lincoln's office in town I think we had walked at least three miles. Mr. Lincoln put my papers in a large envelope with the name 'Stuart & Lincoln' printed at the top. 'Now,' said he, 'when you go home put those papers on record and you will have a good title to your land.'

"I took out my pocketbook to pay him and supposed he would charge me about $10, as I knew he was always moderate in his charges. 'Now, Mr. Lincoln,' said I, 'how much shall I pay you for this work and the long walk through the hot sun and dust?' He paused for a moment and took the big silk handkerchief and wiped the perspiration off that was running down his face, and said: 'I guess I will not charge you anything for that. I will let it go on the old score.' When he said that it broke me all up, and I could not keep the tears from running down my face, for I could recall many instances where he had been so good and kind to me when I was carrying the mail; then for him to say he would charge me nothing for this work was more kindness than I could stand. I suppose what he meant by the old score was that I had occasionally helped him in his store and

post office and my father had assisted him some when he got the post office."

WORLD-WIDE FAME

"Several years after Lincoln's death (1874) the writer, then a student in Germany, was traveling in Switzerland. Arriving early one morning at the little village of Thusis, at the northern end of the Via Mala, he entered an inn for breakfast. As he seated himself at a table he was surprised and delighted to notice hanging on a wall directly in front of him, a fine engraving of Abraham Lincoln.

"It was like meeting an old friend and so far away from America, too, in that little place among the Alps, at the high mountains which are always covered with snow. The first thought was here is a Swiss gentleman who has lived in the United States and has brought this picture back home with him. So when the landlord entered, I said, 'Excuse me, sir, but have you not been in the United States?'

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"No, indeed,' he replied, 'but why do you ask?'

""That picture of Lincoln,' I said; 'where did you get it?'

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'Oh, that picture! Why I bought that at Lucerne. It is the only one in this Canton (county) and I would not sell it for forty gulden,' he exclaimed.

"Now thoroughly interested, I again asked, 'What made you buy it?' He answered very earnestly, 'Because I love the man and his principles. He was a great man. Were you ever in America?' he then asked.

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"Oh, yes! I am an American,' I replied.

"What! a native-born American,' he exclaimed, reaching out his hand. 'Give me your hand. I am proud to meet a countryman of the great Lincoln,' he continued. 'Now you must stay with me and let me show you the points of interest about here.'

"You are very good,' said I, 'and since your love and reverence for Abraham Lincoln has prompted your kindness, in his name I thank you.'

"So presently we started and I enjoyed one of the happiest and most profitable days of my entire journey because I was a countryman of the good and great Lincoln. It was his life of kind deeds, his poverty and struggle, his honesty and truthfulness, and his final death for the cause of liberty and union of the states which, when off there, thousands of miles from America, had won for me this generous hospitality. The incident shows that a single character may ennoble and glorify a nation. A single name like magic secure consideration and protection to a race."

2

WHERE THE WHETSTONE WAS

In 1834, when Lincoln was a candidate for the legislature, he called on a certain farmer to ask for his support. He found him in the hayfield, and was urging his cause when the dinner-bell sounded. The farmer invited him to dinner, but he declined politely, and added:

"If you will let me have the scythe while you are gone, I will mow around the field a couple of times."

When the farmer returned he found three rows neatly mowed. The scythe lay against the gate-post, but Lincoln had disappeared.

Nearly thirty years afterward the farmer and his wife, now grown old, were at a White House reception, and stood waiting in line to shake hands with the President. When they got near him in line, Lincoln saw them and calling an aide, told him to take them to one of the small parlors, where he would see them as soon as he got through the handshaking. Much surprised, the old couple were led away. Presently Mr. Lincoln came in, and greeting them with an outstretched hand and a warm smile, called them by name.

"Do you mean to say," exclaimed the farmer, "that you remember me after all these years?"

2 Silas G. Pratt, Lincoln in Story, pp. 215, 217.

A.LINCOLN.

AS SEEN AND LOVED ABROAD

From a picture woven in silk in Switzerland in 1865, and now in Dr. Ervin Chapman's collection.