An Acre of Fight.
During the progress of the Senatorial campaign between Douglas and Lincoln, Uncle Abe came home to recreate a few days. Douglas, long used to the political arena, bore the fatigues of the canvass like a veteran. His custom was to bathe just after supper, getting some friend to rub him like a race horse, when he would sit down and enjoy his whisky and cigar. Lincoln, lank and abstemious, bore his yoke with evident weariness. But to the story.
Uncle Abe went up into the Governor's room in the State House, where he was soon joined by many of the leading Republicans of the town. Some one remarked on his look of weariness. "It is a mighty contest," remarked Uncle Jesse Du Bois.
"But Mr. Lincoln does not show his great appreciation of it upon the stand," remarked a Chicago correspondent, in allusion to Uncle Abe's good humored replies to Douglas.
"But still, when the day's gladiatorial combat is over, it seems to me, as the Kentucky fellow said, that I had been through 'an acre of fight.'"
"Give us that story, Abe," said Dr. Wallace, Uncle Abe's brother-in-law.
"Well, one of my earliest recollections of a Kentucky Court, was a trial about a fight. It took place in the Court House grounds, and the Judge, thinking it constructable as a contempt of Court, sent out the Sheriff, and had the parties quickly brought before him. Both had bruised noses and beavers, and showed the unmistakable evidence of having been in a scrimage. The witnesses were numerous, and the evidence was so conflicting, that the Judge declared he could legally reach no other conclusion than that there had been no fight at all. But the Sheriff ventured to suggest:
"Here's Jim Blowers—he had hold on one of them fellers, when I arrested them."
"Mr. Clerk," said the Judge, "you will at once swear Mr. Blowers."
"Now, Mr. Blowers," said the Clerk, "you will please tell the Court what you know about this affair."
"Well, ax on."
"Well, was there a fight between these parties?"
"Just a bit of scrimage."
"It was a real fight, was it?"
"Well, some people would call it that."
"How much of a fight was it?"
"Oh, considerable—they pulled and hauled about kinder like two cows when they lock horns."
"But, tell the Court more precisely?"
"Well, I should say it was a right smart fight."
"But how much of a fight?"
"Well, then, just about an acre, I reckon."
It is needless to say that the crowd enjoyed the joke hugely.
"It is easier to pay a small debt than a larger one."