He took a lodestone out of his pocket and holding it near the compass moved it back and forth. The needle followed it.
The young man came up to us breathing deeply. Perspiration was rolling off his face. He was much excited and spoke with some difficulty.
"Senator Wright," he gasped, "Mrs. Wright sent me down to tell you that President Van Buren is at the house."
I remember vividly the look of mild amusement in the Senator's face and the serene calmness with which he looked at the young man and said to him:
"Tell Mrs. Wright to make him comfortable in our easiest chair and to say to the President that I shall be up directly."
To my utter surprise he resumed his talk with me as the young man went away.
"You see all ways are north when you put this lodestone near the needle," he went on. "If it is to tell you the truth you must keep the lodestone away from the needle. It's that way, too, with the compass of your soul, partner. There the lodestone is selfishness, and with its help you can make any direction look right to you and soon—you're lost."
He put his hand on my arm and said in a low tone which made me to understand that it was for my ear only.
"What I fear is that they may try to tamper with your compass. Look out for lodestones."
He was near the end of a row and went on with his reaping as he said: