citizen's duty cheerfully to do one or the other of these things
in the hour of danger. They knew that he had done both; and so it
was to him that men turned, as to a strong and brave man, whose
words were simple and noble, and what was more important, whose
actions squared with his words.

He had come back, not long before, from one of his hunting trips,
and it was said that fever was still troubling him. The people
wish to know if this is true, and one of the men on the sidewalk,
a reporter, probably, steps forward and asks him a question.

He stops for a moment, and turns toward the man. Not much thought
of sickness is left in the mind of any one there! His face is
clear, his cheeks ruddy,--the face of a man who lives outdoors;
and his eyes, light-blue in color, look straight at the
questioner. One of his eyes, it had been said, was dimmed or
blinded by a blow while boxing, years before, when he was
President. But no one can see anything the matter with the eyes;
they twinkle in a smile, and as his face puckers up, and his white
teeth show for an instant under his light-brown moustache, the
group of people all smile, too.

His face is so familiar to them,--it is as if they were looking at
somebody they knew as well as their own brothers. The newspaper
cartoonists had shown it to them for years. No one else smiled
like that; no one else spoke so vigorously.

"Never felt better in my life!" he answers, bending toward the
man.