Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 April 1883 — AFTER THE NOMINATION. [ARTICLE]

AFTER THE NOMINATION.

The fray Abraham Lincoln Appeared to « ■Visitor in iB6O. (Reminiscence by ItM# tit /ofiefc] My last interview with thi* extradtdinary man was in Springfield in June, 1860, and bnt two or three weeks after he had been placed before the American people as a candidate for the highest honor, as I account it, in all this world. Being m that city en route to Jacksonville and compelled to lie ovef to# a few hours, I sauntered from the depot to the State HoijsO, tod the weather being hot betook myself td the shades of the library, then communicating with the office of Secretory of State, flardly had I got settled in my retreat before “Unde Jesse” spied me out as he was pacing his morning rounds —“Uncle Jesse,” I say, the genial Auditor whom some ill-mannered men sometimes called Mr. Dubois, although his true name was “Uncle Jesse. ” Arresting toe on the spot, he informed me that Mr. Lincoln (probably he Called him “Old Abe”) was then in his room and for the first time since his nomination alone, adding on his own responsibility, of course, that he would be glad to see me. I had then no alternative but to go forward and pay my respects, although I confess I was at first a little panic stricken with the sudden prospect of a royal audience. Following Uncle Jesse I entered his room, which was indeed void of visitors, save one elderly gentleman from St. B&tus, who was en route for Jacksonville, like myself ; a preacher I conjectured from ms appearanoe and dress, which contrasted amazingly with that of the other man. As I entered Mr. Lincoln instantly recognized me, came forward and took me by the hand with the old rough heartiness of maimer, a little emphasized, I thought, by the altered circumstances. But what a figure! There stood before me, on that summer’s morning, the most distinguished and interesting American of the age, and how do you suppose he was costumed for his part ? The day, I have said, was hot, and it was evident that he had flanked the meteorological conditions with a minimum of clothes; a straw hat manifestly the worse for wear in hand; no cravat, no collar and no vest, as I will depose to the best of my remembrance ; a common, cheap linen coat, short for him, of course, limp and wrinkled by perspiration; his nether garments none too long for his long legs, and his feet in slippers of no great market value. Thus royally arrayed was the man whom the great new party which had recently taken the field to contest for the control of the national administration had singled out to bear its standard in the impending battle. We soon settled down to a familiar chat, in which it was impossible for me to feel the least embarrassment or restraint. As evidently I had not come to instruct him in regard to the policy upon which he ought to conduct the Government when elected, he naturally dropped into his old rut of “little stories,” of which he told two or three not particularly Presidential in their character. The Missouri gentleman sat apart and listened with manifest, amazement, for Lincoln, you \know, was of Quaker stock, and sometimes used the plain language. The Ninfcerview was short, perhaps twenty minutes, and I thought he seemed to enjoy his little respite from the relentless pressure of crowds, processions, committees, delegations, professional and importunate office-seekers and \office-brokers, that had incessantly pursued him since his nomination. \