“Mrs. Sessions,” he began, “there is a very talkative little boy up in the Army of the Potomac. And it seems that after Antietam General Hooker sent for that little boy to ask him some questions about a wounded officer that General Hooker takes considerable interest in. And the boy, under Hooker’s questions, blabbed about that officer’s being engaged to marry a very lovely and dear little woman. General Hooker wrote to me about it. So I wanted a word or two with that little woman—about him.”
Think of that, Jim! Just think of it. I made up my mind, that minute, I’d go to the hospital ear specialist right off and get him to find out why I’d taken to hearing things that couldn’t possibly have been said to me.
But Mr. Lincoln went on, more serious:
“Mrs. Sessions, I know Major Dadd’s story. All of it. He’s the kind of man I think I’d like to be friends with. Do you think he’d feel like meeting me?”
“Oh, Mr. President!” I sputtered.
I couldn’t say another word.
“Because,” he goes on, his mouth-corners twisting up in a smile. “I’d like to have him come to see me. We owe him a good deal. And I want we should pay some of that debt. If he hangs back, and doesn’t think it’s worth while to come, just you tell him I’ve a couple of little presents for him.
“One is from Congress. One is from me.”
Yes, I was sure I’d have to go to that ear specialist, Jim!
“The present from Congress, ma’am,” says Mr. Lincoln, “is a gold Distinguished Service Medal. It was voted him yesterday for his share in the Antietam campaign. But it wasn’t voted to James Dadd. I’ve put an end to ‘James Dadd’s’ existence with six strokes of the pen.”