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Billy Greene's. Mr. Lincoln was riding with me, and we had a very bad branch to cross.
The other gentlemen were very officious in seeing that their partners got safely over.
We were behind, he riding in, never looking back to see how I got along.
When I rode up beside him, I remarked, “You are a nice fellow!
I suppose you did not care whether my neck was broken or not.”
He laughingly replied (I suppose by way of compliment), that he knew I was plenty smart to take care of myself.
In many things he was sensitive almost to a fault.
He told me of an incident: that he was crossing a prairie one day and saw before him, “a hog mired down,” to use his own language.
He was rather “fixed up,” and he resolved that he would pass on without looking at the shoat.
After he had gone by, he said the feeling was irresistible; and he had to look back, and the poor thing seemed to say wistfully, “There now, my last hope is gone:” that he deliberately got down and relieved it from its difficulty.
In many things we were congenial spirits.
In politics we saw eye to eye, though since then we differed as widely as the South is from the North.
But methinks I hear you say, “Save me from a political woman!”
So say I.
The last message I ever received from him was about a year after we parted in Illinois. Mrs. Able visited Kentucky, and he said to her in Springfield, “Tell your sister that I think she was a great fool because she did not stay here and marry me.”
Characteristic of the man!
Respectfully yours,
Mary S. Vineyard.
We have thus been favored with the lady's side of this case, and it is but fair that we should hear
