And one of the very things which Mr. Tibbles had seen and heard Mr. Lincoln do was “to sit around and match yarns like a commercial traveller.”
***
Mr. Tibbles told me how, being at a certain place, his attention was attracted by repeated bursts of loud laughter, coming from a certain room. His youthful curiosity being excited, he followed the sound to the room from which it came. The sight that met his eyes was this: Abraham Lincoln was sitting in a chair, with his big feet upon a table in front of him; around him were grouped a number of men, to whom Mr. Lincoln was telling side-splitting yarns.
Tibbles joined the audience and got his share of the fun.
What of it?
Does that lower Lincoln in any sensible man’s eyes?
No. Let the Miss Nancy brigade go off to one side and talk about the nebular hypothesis, or some other nice, well-bred subject. For my part, I would prefer, occasionally, “to sit around and match yarns like a commercial traveller.”
***
I asked Mr. Tibbles whether the stories that he heard Mr. Lincoln telling were smutty.
At some future time, when I find, after a careful field-glass scrutiny of the horizon, that I have no other row on hand, and am feeling the need of one very badly, I am going to tell you Tibbles’ answer.