"With love and reverence his memory is cherished by the American people as is the memory of no other man," said dear grandmother. "Quoting a 'Decoration Day' orator," she added, "'He was called to go by the sorrowful way, bearing the awful burden of his people's woe, the cry of the uncomforted in his ears, the bitterness of their passion on his heart. Misunderstood, misjudged, he was the most solitary of men. He had to tread the wine-press alone, and of the people none went with him. But he turned not back. He never faltered. As one upheld, sustained by the Unseen Hand, he set his face steadfastly, undaunted, unafraid, until in Death's black minute he paid glad life's arrears: the slaves free! Himself immortal!'"
Yes, it is quite certain that Abraham Lincoln is America's Princely Man!
I would like to make something happen in the world that would be talked about after I am dead. Grandmother says that it is only something that one does for the good of the world that is remembered after he is dead. "If a man has money, people will lionize him as long as he is living for the sake of it," she says, "but money counts for nothing when a man is dead."
"Money!" said Uncle Theodore, who had been listening to our talk. "I doubt whether Abe ever owned enough to buy a farm."
February 15th, 1——
One comfort, I am not bothered much with Aunt Gwendolin—she has become acquainted with a French nobleman, Count de Pensier, and he is attracting all her attention, thanks be to goodness! Mrs. Delancy is delighted, and is doing all she can to further the acquaintance. "It is not every day that one has the privilege of associating daily and hourly with one of the titled aristocracy of the old world," she has said several times in my hearing.
When we first arrived Aunt Gwendolin saw some of the Spanish ladies wearing mantillas on their heads, and she immediately bought one for me.
"There!" she said when I put it on, "isn't that simply perfect? Doesn't that make her Spanish through and through?" She says that when I become a thorough Spanish-American she is going to give a "coming out party" for me.
The scarf is really quite becoming. Uncle Theodore admired it, or admired me with it on, so I wear it wound around my head when I go on my rambles through the country with him. I really much prefer it to the bristling hats of the American women, and it is quite pleasant to be called "señorita," and to be thought Spanish.