and for which his heart was freely bleeding.

I have many times seen him discussing in the most serious and
heartfelt manner the sorrows and bereavements of the country, and
when it would seem as though the tension was so strained that the
brittle cord of life must break, his face would suddenly brighten
like the sun escaping from behind the cloud to throw its
effulgence upon the earth, and he would tell an appropriate
story, and much as his stories were enjoyed by his hearers none
enjoyed them more than Mr. Lincoln himself.

I have often known him within the space of a few minutes to be
transformed from the saddest face I have ever looked upon to one
of the brightest and most mirthful. It was well known that he had
his great fountain of humor as a safety valve; as an escape and
entire relief from the fearful exactions his endless duties put
upon him. In the gravest consultations of the cabinet where he
was usually a listener rather than a speaker, he would often end
dispute by telling a story and none misunderstood it; and often
when he was pressed to give expression on particular subjects,
and his always abundant caution was baffled, he many times ended
the interview by a story that needed no elaboration.

I recall an interview with Mr. Lincoln at the White House in the
spring of 1865, just before Lee retreated from Petersburg. It was
well understood that the military power of the Confederacy was
broken, and that the question of reconstruction would soon be
upon us.

Colonel Forney and I had called upon the President simply to pay