“What’s the news?” was the breathless inquiry.
“The Convention has made a nomination,” he said, “and Mr. Seward——”
A look of intense disappointment was beginning to show itself on the faces of the listeners. They supposed that Seward was nominated.
“And Seward is—the second man on the list,” continued the editor.
He could no longer restrain himself. Jumping on the editorial table, he shouted, “Gentlemen, I propose three cheers for Abraham Lincoln, the next President of the United States.”
The cheers were given with a will.
The dispatch was handed to Mr. Lincoln, who read it quietly.
Then he put it in his pocket, saying, “There is a little woman on Eighth Street who will be interested to hear this,” and he walked home.
In Springfield the news excited the greatest enthusiasm. All knew and loved Abraham Lincoln. He set himself above no one, but greeted all with cordial kindness. The nomination was felt to be a personal compliment to Springfield. The country had come to them for a President, and to the man above all others whom they would personally have selected.
That day Mr. Lincoln had to keep open house. His modest residence proved quite too small to contain the crowds who wanted to enter and shake hands with the man who had become so suddenly of national importance. They received a cordial welcome; and no one could detect in the nominee any unusual elation nor any deviation from his usual plain and modest deportment.