e asking, and they revealed an intimate knowledge of
our march from Savannah. I was interrupted many times by the arrival of
different generals, aides, etc. He sat there smoking, imperturbable.
Sometimes he said "yes" or "no," but oftener he merely nodded his head.
Once he astounded by a brief question an excitable young lieutenant, who
floundered. The General seemed to know more than he about the matter he
had in hand.

When I left him, he asked me where I was quartered, and said he hoped I
would be comfortable.

Jack Hancock was waiting for me, and we walked around the city, which
even has barber shops. Everywhere were signs of preparation, for the
roads are getting dry, and the General preparing for a final campaign
against Lee. Poor Lee! What a marvellous fight he has made with his
material. I think that he will be reckoned among the greatest generals of
our race.

Of course, I was very anxious to get a glimpse of the President, and so
we went down to the wharf, where we heard that he had gone off for a
horseback ride. They say that he rides nearly every day, over the
corduroy roads and through the swamps, and wherever the boys see that
tall hat they cheer. They know it as well as the lookout tower on the
flats of Bermuda Hundred. He lingers at the campfires and swaps stories
with the officers, and entertains the sick and wounded in the hospitals.
Isn't it like him?

He hasn't changed, either. I believe that the great men don't change.
Away with your Napoleons and your Marlboroughs and your Stuarts. These
are the days of simple men who command by force of character, as well as
knowledge. Thank God for the American! I believe that he will change the
world, and strip it of its vainglory and hypocrisy.

In the evening, as we were sitting around Hancock's fire, an officer came
in.

"Is Major Brice here?" he asked. I jumped up.

"The President sends his compliments, Major, and wants to know if you
would care to pay him a little visit."

If I would care to pay him a little visit! That officer had to hurry to
keep up with the as I walked to the wharf. He led me aboard the River
Queen, and stopped at the door of the after-cabin.

Mr. Lincoln was sitting under the lamp, slouched down in his chair, in
the position I remembered so well. It was as if I had left him but
yesterday. He was whittling, and he had made some little toy for his son
Tad, who ran out as I entered.

When he saw me, the President rose to his g