for the United States Senate. Lincoln was present, of course, and so
were all the prominent politicians of the State.

"After the company had gotten pretty noisy and mellow from their
imbibitions of Yellow Seal and 'corn juice,'" says Mr. Bryant, "Mr.
Douglas and General Shields, to the consternation of the host and
intense merriment of the guests, climbed up on the table, at one end,
encircled each other's waists, and to the tune of a rollicking song,
pirouetted down the whole length of the table, shouting, singing,
and kicking dishes, glasses, and everything right and left, helter
skelter. For this night of entertainment to his constituents, the
successful candidate was presented with a bill, in the morning, for
supper, wines, liquors, and damages, which amounted to six hundred
dollars."

But boisterous suppers were not by any means the important feature of
Lincoln's social life that winter in Vandalia. There was another
and quieter side in which he showed his rare companionableness and
endeared himself to many people. In the midst of the log-rolling
and jubilations of the session he would often slip away to some
acquaintance's room and spend hours in talk and stories. Mr. John
Bryant tells of his coming frequently to his room at the hotel, and
sitting "with his knees up to his chin, telling his inimitable stories
and his triumphs in the House in circumventing the Democrats."

Major Newton Walker, of Lewiston, was in Vandalia at the time;
and still talks with pleasure not only of the Assembly's energetic
legislation, but of the way Lincoln endeared himself to him and to
his colleague. "We both loved him," says Major Walker, "but I little
thought then that he would become the greatest man that this country