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Francis B. Carpenter, Six Months at the White House, Xlvii. (search)
ect of the amusement. Glancing through the half-open door, Mr. Lincoln caught sight of me, and the story had to be repeated for my benefit. The incident was trifling in itself, but the President's enjoyment of it was very exhilarating. I never saw him in so frolicsome a mood as on this occasion. It has been well said by a critic of Shakspeare, that the spirit which held the woe of Lear, and the tragedy of Hamlet, would have broken, had it not also had the humor of the Merry Wives of Windsor, and the merriment of Midsummer Night's Dream. With equal justice can this profound truth be applied to the late President. The world has had no better illustration of it since the immortal plays were written. Mr. Lincoln's laugh stood by itself. The neigh of a wild horse on his native prairie is not more undisguised and hearty. A group of gentlemen, among whom was his old Springfield friend and associate, Hon. Isaac N. Arnold, were one day conversing in the passage near his office