At one of the stopping places of the train a beautiful little girl, having a bunch of rosebuds in her hand, was held up to an open window of the President's car, lisping, "Flowerth for the Prethident." The President stepped to the window, took the rosebuds, bent down and kissed the child, saying: "You are a sweet little rosebud yourself! I hope your life will open into perpetual beauty and goodness."
GRANTING A PARDON
This story, probably better than any other, illustrates the noble and sublime qualities of our great Lincoln. It is a forceful illustration of his justice—justice tempered with mercy.
"WELL, my child," he said, in his pleasant, cheerful tone, "what do you want so bright and early in the morning?"
"Bennie's life, please," faltered Blossom.
"Bennie? Who is Bennie?"
My brother, sir. They are going to shoot him for sleeping at his post.
"Oh, yes;" and Mr. Lincoln ran his eye over the papers before him. "I remember. It was a fatal sleep. You see, child, it was a time of special danger. Thousands of lives might have been lost for his culpable negligence."
"So my father said," replied Blossom, gravely; "but poor Bennie was so tired and Jemmie so weak. He did the work of two, sir, and it was Jemmie's night, not his; but Jemmie was too tired, and Bennie never thought about himself, that he was tired, too."
"What is this you say, child? Come here; I do not understand," and the kind man caught eagerly, as ever, at what seemed to be a justification of an offense.