“The trouble is, Bob, that your mother is deadly serious, too. She’s lost two boys,” Lincoln reminded him.
“So have other women.”
“I know. Give her a little more time, Bob. Till the end of this year anyway. The war isn’t going to end before New Years’ Day.”
“I shan’t wait much longer, I promise you,” threatened Robert, standing tall.
“Just promise me to the end of this school year. Then we’ll talk about it again.”
“And you’ll talk to Mama? Make her see that it’s something I have to do?”
“I’ll talk to Mama,” agreed Abraham Lincoln. “I’ll do my best, son.”
But when, he was thinking wearily after the boy had gone, had his best ever been good enough to prevail against Mary’s ready tears?
7
“Bob,” Abraham Lincoln said, when he went back to the family rooms, “I need some help. Your mother has very graciously provided some little Christmas cheer for those boys out there of Company K. The things are all here in this big box. I’ll need you to help pass ’em out.”