's answer was, “If I did, Dennis
, it would be difficult to find another man to fill his place.”
The President's cousin1
sat in the office during the endless interviews that take place between the head of the nation and the latter's loyal subjects.
He saw modesty and obscurity mingling with the arrogance of pride and distinction.
One day an attractive and handsomely dressed woman called to procure the release from prison of a relative in whom she professed the deepest interest.
She was a good talker, and her winning ways seemed to be making a deep impression on the President
After listening to her story he wrote a few lines on a card, enclosing it in an envelope and directing her to take it to the Secretary of War
Before sealing it he showed it to Dennis
It read: “This woman, dear Stanton
, is a little smarter than she looks to be.”
She had, woman-like, evidently overstated her case.
Before night another woman called, more humble in appearance, more plainly clad.
It was the old story.
Father and son both in the army, the former in prison.
Could not the latter be discharged from the army and sent home to help his mother?
A few strikes of the pen, a gentle nod of the head, and the little woman, her eyes filling with tears and expressing a grateful acknowledgment her tongue could not utter, passed out.