“Oh yes.”
“Then make the insurance by all means.”
“I have thought of it several times since we conversed on the subject; but some how or other have put it off from time to time. I must do so no longer. My doubts as to the propriety of life insurance, which I expressed some time ago, I do not feel as strongly as then. I thought a good deal of what you said, and came to the conclusion that your views were pretty nearly correct.”
“Life is uncertain. We can only call the present our own. Be wise, then, and make this provision for your family.”
“I must do it,” said Lincoln, as he left me.
“Have you effected that insurance yet?” said I to him a few months afterward.
“No, I have not,” he replied, “but I must do it. The fact is, when it comes to the pinch, the amount of premium is something. A man hasn’t always got ninety dollars to spare.”
“True. But didn’t I see a new sofa and a set of mahogany chairs going into your house a week or two ago?”
“Yes.”
“And they cost, no doubt, a hundred dollars.”