th papers. He clapped the hat on his head, and
buttoned on his collar.

"I reckon I'll go for a walk, boys," he said, "and clear my head, so as
to be ready for the Little Giant to-morrow at Freeport. Mr. Brice, do
you feel like walking?"

Stephen, taken aback, said that he did.

"Now, Abe, this is just durned foolishness," one of the gentlemen
expostulated. "We want to know if you're going to ask Douglas that
question."

"If you do, you kill yourself, Lincoln," said another, who Stephen
afterwards learned was Mr. Medill, proprietor of the great 'Press and
Tribune'.

"I guess I'll risk it, Joe," said Mr. Lincoln, gravely. Suddenly comes
the quiver about the corners of his mouth and the gray eyes respond.
"Boys," said he, "did you ever hear the story of farmer Bell, down in
Egypt? I'll tell it to you, boys, and then perhaps you'll know why I'll
ask Judge Douglas that question. Farmer Bell had the prize Bartlett pear
tree, and the prettiest gal in that section. And he thought about the
same of each of 'em. All the boys were after Sue Bell. But there
was only one who had any chance of getting her, and his name was Jim
Rickets. Jim was the handsomest man in that section. He's been hung
since. But Jim had a good deal out of life,--all the appetites, and some
of the gratifications. He liked Sue, and he liked a luscious Bartlett.
And he intended to have both. And it just so happened that that prize
pear tree had a whopper on that year, and old man Bell couldn't talk of
anything else.

"Now there was an ugly galoot whose name isn't worth mentioning. He knew
he wasn't in any way fit for Sue, and he liked pears about as well as
Jim Rickets. Well, one night here comes Jim along the road, whistling;
to court Susan, and there was the ugly galoot a-yearning on the bank
under the pear tree. Jim was all fixed up, and he says to the galoot,
'Let's have a throw.' Now the galoot knew old Bell was looking over
the fence So he says, 'All right,' and he gives Jim the first shot--Jim
fetched down the big pear, got his teeth in it, and strolled off to the
house, kind of pitiful of the galoot for a, half-witted ass. When he got
to the door, there was the old man. 'What are you here for?' says
he. 'Why,' says Rickets, in his off-hand way, for he always had great
confidence, 'to fetch Sue.'"

"The old man used to wear brass toes to keep his boots from wearing
out," said Mr. Lincoln, dreamily.

"You see," continued Mr. Lincoln, "you see