"IT WAS THE BABY THAT DID IT."
A young mother came to Washington to sue for the life of her husband, a deserter, condemned to die. Such was the crowd of besiegers for grace, offices, and simple greeting by the host of the White House that she was kept out in the hall. But one day, the master passing through the corridor "to hold the show," heard a baby's pitiful wail. He halted, listened again to make sure, and on entering his reception-parlor asked his favorite usher if he had not heard that odd thing--there--an infant's cry.
The attendant promptly related that a woman with a babe was without, who had been losing her time three days.
"Go at once, and send her to me," he ordered, expressing regret that she should have been overlooked.
As there were several extenuating points in her plea, or the benign official leaned that way, he wrote his pardon and gave it to the woman, whose still plaintive smile shone through tears of gratitude.
"Take that, my poor woman, and it will bring you back your husband," he said, going so far as to direct her to what authority to apply for the action.
In showing her forth, the old usher, who knew his employer's tender heart where children were concerned, whispered:
"It was the baby that did it!"--(Told by "Old Dan'el," the good-natured Irish usher.)