stepped down to the platform where I stood, shook my hand,
kissed me, and said: "You see I let these whiskers grow for
you, Grace." The crowd cheered, Mr. Lincoln reentered the car,
and I ran quickly home, looking at and speaking to no one,
with a much dilapidated bunch of roses in my hand, which I
had hoped might be passed up to Mr. Lincoln with some other
flowers which were to be presented, but which in my confusion
I had forgotten. Gentle and genial, simple and warm-hearted,
how full of anxiety must have been his life in the days which
followed. These words seem to fitly describe him: "A man of
sorrows and acquainted with grief." Very sincerely,

GRACE BEDELL BILLINGS.


[Footnote 1: William D. Kelley, in "Reminiscences of Abraham Lincoln."
Edited by Allen Thorndike Rice, 1886.]

[Footnote 2: This incident was told by Lincoln to Mr. A.J. Conant, the
artist, who in 1860 painted his portrait in Springfield. Mr. Conant,
in order to keep Mr. Lincoln's pleasant expression, had engaged him in
conversation, and had questioned him about his early life; and it was
in the course of their conversation that this incident came out. It
is to be found in a delightful and suggestive article entitled, "My
Acquaintance with Abraham Lincoln," contributed by Mr. Conant to the
"Liber Scriptorum," and by his permission quoted here.]

[Footnote 3: With one exception the biographers of Lincoln have given
him the first place on the ticket in 1834. He really stood second
in order, Herndon gives the correct vote, although he is in error in