ing Office there. As I
went in, the lieutenant turned to me with a quizzical smile on his face:

"Young man, you told me you were a printer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you 'O. K.' this job?" passing one of the envelopes he held in his
hand.

"Yes sir," I answered.

"Umph! Is it correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"It is, eh?"

"Yes-s, sir."

"Umph! how do you spell business?"

[Illustration: _Fortress Monroe where Jefferson Davis was Incarcerated._]

"B-u-i-s-n-e-ss," said I.

"You do, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well," said he in an imperative manner, "our government sees fit to
differ with you. You will go to your office and print fifty thousand more,
but see that you spell business right, and bring me the proof. The lot you
have printed we will send to Washington, and recommend that they be made
into a paper mache statue of yourself, and label it 'Buisness' or the only
government printer."

I was a little chagrined at the mistake, but did not take it to heart; but
I was soon relieved by a man who was more careful in his spelling. A week
or so after leaving the printing office, I was sent to the fort to act as
a kind of a companion to the confederate president, Jefferson Davis. I was
instructed to walk and talk with him. I presume I was intended for a sort
of guard. Perhaps our government wished to make him feel as if he were not
under surveillance, and so placed one whose insignificant appearance would
put him at his ease. However, I found it a very agreeable occupation. One
of the most pleasant weeks I ever passed was with Mr. Jefferson Davis. He
was a most agreeable man to me. He gave me lots of good advice, and I
learned more from conversation with him about national affairs than I ever
expected to know; and if I ever become president I will avail myself of
the advice and teaching of that great man. He pointed out the right and
wrong paths for young men; urged me above all things to adhere strictly
to honesty and integrity; to follow these two principles, and I would
succeed in business and become great and respected. I thanked him for his
kind advice, and pressed his hand good-bye. "Good-bye, my boy," said he.
"You have been a comfort to me in my loneliness and sorrow. God bless you,
my boy, God bless you!" A great, big something came up in my throat as I
turned and left him, and I have regretted all my life that I was not
fortunate enough to have the pleasure of meeting him again before he
passed away; for I assur