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THE

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XXXIII.

THOMAS HICKS.

HEN the news of Mr. Lincoln's nomina

WHEN

tion reached the City of New York, a leading publishing house engaged me to go to Springfield to paint a portrait of him, a lithograph of which was to be used in the coming campaign. A day later, I happened to be in the editorial rooms of the New York Tribune, when Horace Greeley returned from the Chicago Convention. As he entered, stained with the dust and grime of travel, the staff crowded around him in great excitement to hear from him the details of the Convention. While he was relating some of the stirring incidents of that memorable day, he took, from the side pocket of his coat, a wood-cut which appeared like a caricature of a very plain man, and holding it up, that all might see it, he said, with an air of triumph: "There, I say, that is a good head to go before the people;" and we all agreed that it was. This picture had been made quickly, when Mr. Lincoln's chances for the nomination became probable, and was roughly done; but it suggested a man of strong character.

After the excitement had somewhat quieted, I told them I was commissioned to paint a portrait of Mr. Lincoln, and Mr. Dana kindly gave me letter of introduction to Mr. Herndon, of Springfield, who was a former partner of Mr. Lincoln.

With Dana's letter, my luggage and my painting traps, I left New York on Friday evening and arrived at Chicago Monday morning, and was disappointed to find that there was no train to Springfield before five in the afternoon; but the day was serene, and, as I was strolling by the lake, I saw many newly-arrived Swedes, scattered in groups of men, women and children, who were washing their clothes in the lake, after the long and dreary voyage. These emigrants, as they worked in the broad sunlight against the blue water, with their sunburnt faces and their native costumes, were very picturesque, and I could not resist the temptation of making some hurried sketches of them.

After an entertaining and delightful day, at five o'clock, I took the night train for Springfield, where I arrived at daylight; and having ascertained, at my hotel, that Mr. Herndon lived quite out of the town, after breakfasting, I went in search of him, and found him working among the flowers in the garden in front of his house. I gave him Mr. Dana's letter, which seemed to please him, and he

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