Francis B. Carpenter, Six Months at the White House

[151] which I well remember, was a party composed of two senators, a representative, an exlieutenant-gov-ernor of a western State, and several private citizens. They had business of great importance, involving the necessity of the President's examination of voluminous documents. He was at this time, from an unusual pressure of office-seekers, in addition to his other cares, literally worn out. Pushing everything aside: he said to one of the party: “Have you seen the ‘Nasby papers?’ ” “No, I have not,” was the answer; “who is ‘Nasby?’ ” “There is a chap out in Ohio,” returned the President, “who has been writing a series of letters in the newspapers over the signature of ‘Petroleum V. Nasby.’ Some one sent me a pamphlet collection of them the other day. I am going to write to ‘Petroleum’ to come down here, and I intend to tell him if he will communicate his talent to me, I will ‘swap’ places with him.” Thereupon he arose, went to a drawer in his desk, and, taking out the “Letters,” sat down and read one to the company, finding in their enjoyment of it the temporary excitement and relief which another man would have found in a glass of wine. The instant he ceased, the book was thrown aside, his countenance relapsed into its habitual serious expression, and the business before him was entered upon with the utmost earnestness.

During the dark days of ‘62, the Hon. Mr. Ashley, of Ohio, had occasion to call at the White