STANTON'S SERVICE WAS WORTH HIS SAUCE.
Among the President's minor worries was the assiduity with which his generosity was cultivated by his relatives--not only those by his marriage, but by his father's second marriage. He was like the eldest son of the family to whom all looked for sustenance. There came to the seat of government that Dennis Hanks, his cousin, who stood to reach for boons on the platform of rails which they had cut long ago in cohort. Dennis was seeking the pardon of some "Copperheads"--that is, Southern sympathizers of the North, veiled in their enmity, but dangerous. The secretary of war had pronounced against any leniency toward what were dubbed glaring traitors. All the chief could do--for he bared his head like Lear to let the Stanton tempest blow upon him and so spare others--was to say he would look at the cases the next day. Hanks was muttering.
"Why, Dennis, what would you do were you President?" he asked the raw backwoodsman, turning badly into suppliant.
"Do? Why, Abe, if I were as big and 'ugly'--aggressively combative--as you are, I would take your Mr. Stanton over my knee and spank him!"
This caused a laugh, but the other replied severely:
"No. Stanton is an able and valuable man for this nation in his station, and I am glad to have his service in spite of his sauce."