He knew how to disregard little men and their little deeds.
That night Tom sat up late. Nicolay and Hay had asked him to spend the evening, after the household had gone to bed, in their office. Crackers and cheese and a jug of milk were the refreshments and John Hay's talk was the delight of the little gathering. Midnight had just struck when the door opened quietly and the President slipped into the room. Never had Tom seen him in such guise. The only thing he had on was a short nightshirt and carpet-slippers. He was smiling as he entered.
"Hear this, boys," he said. "It's from the 'Biglow Papers.' That fellow Lowell knows how to put things. Just hear this. He puts these Yankee words into Jeff Davis's mouth:
"'An' votin' we're prosp'rous a hundred times over
Wun't change bein' starved into livin' on clover.
An' wut Spartans wuz lef' when the battle wuz done
Wuz them that wuz too unambitious to run.
An' how, sence Fort Donelson, winnin' the day
Consists in triumphantly gettin' away!'
And here," continued the President, utterly unaware of the oddity of his garb, "and here is a good touch on the Proclamation. I wish all the 'cussed fools' in America could read it. Hear this:
"'An' why should we kick up a muss
About the Pres'dent's proclamation?
It ain't a-goin' to lib'rate us
Ef we don't like emancipation.
The right to be a cussed fool
Is safe from all devices human.
It's common (ez a gin'l rule)
To every critter born o' woman.'"