The last words rang out in such an earnest, impressive, almost prophetic tone as to make a cold shiver run through the audience. For a moment the speaker stood silent, his black hair fallen forward over his forehead, his sad grey eyes, deep-set and hollow, gazing out over the assembled people. Then as a great storm of applause broke out and the people made a rush for the platform he bowed and retired.
Joe woke as from a trance when the audience began to file out.
"Who was he, Father?" he asked breathlessly. "Who was that man?"
As he looked up into his father's face he saw that his cheeks were flushed and his usually gentle, kindly eyes were blazing.
"His name is Lincoln, I believe," he answered, rousing himself with an effort from the thoughts the address had set running in his mind. "He is a lawyer, a member of the legislature from Sangamon County, some one told me."
For a long time Joe was silent. Lige spoke to him about something else, but he did not hear him. When he spoke again they were out on the street and on their way back to the hotel.
"Do you believe I could ever be a lawyer, Father?" he asked.
His father smiled, then answered gravely, "I have no doubt you could, Joe, if you set your mind on it."
"And a member of the legislature—like that man?"
Joshua Peniman laughed outright. "Well, I don't know about that, my son. That man appears to me to be a rather unusual sort of a person. But you might become a member of the legislature, perhaps."