It was in 1830, when “Abe” was just twenty-one years of age, that the Lincoln family moved from Gentryville, Indiana, to near Decatur, Illinois, their household goods being packed in a wagon drawn by four oxen driven by “Abe.”
The winter previous the latter had “worked” in a country store in Gentryville and before undertaking the journey he invested all the money he had—some thirty dollars—in notions, such as needles, pins, thread, buttons and other domestic necessities. These he sold to families along the route and made a profit of about one hundred per cent.
This mercantile adventure of his youth “reminded” the President of a very clever story while the members of the Cabinet were one day solemnly debating a rather serious international problem. The President was in the minority, as was frequently the case, and he was “in a hole,” as he afterwards expressed it. He didn’t want to argue the points raised, preferring to settle the matter in a hurry, and an apt story was his only salvation.
Suddenly the President’s fact brightened. “Gentlemen,” said he, addressing those seated at the Cabinet table, “the situation just now reminds me of a fix I got into some thirty years or so ago when I was peddling ‘notions’ on the way from Indiana to Illinois. I didn’t have a large stock, but I charged large prices, and I made money. Perhaps you don’t see what I am driving at?”
Secretary of State Seward was wearing a most gloomy expression of countenance; Secretary of War Stanton was savage and inclined to be morose; Secretary of the Treasury Chase was indifferent and cynical, while the others of the Presidential advisers resigned themselves to the hearing of the inevitable “story.”
“I don’t propose to argue this matter,” the President went on to say, “because arguments have no effect upon men whose opinions are fixed and whose minds are made up. But this little story of mine will make some things which now are in the dark show up more clearly.”
There was another pause, and the Cabinet officers, maintaining their previous silence, began wondering if the President himself really knew what he was “driving at.”
“Just before we left Indiana and crossed into Illinois,” continued Mr. Lincoln solemnly, speaking in a grave tone of voice, “we came across a small farmhouse full of nothing but children. These ranged in years from seventeen years to seventeen months, and all were in tears. The mother of the family was red-headed and red-faced, and the whip she held in her right hand led to the inference that she had been chastising her brood. The father of the family, a meek-looking, mild-mannered, tow-headed chap, was standing in the front door-way, awaiting—to all appearances—his turn to feel the thong.
“I thought there wasn’t much use in asking the head of that house if she wanted any ‘notions.’ She was too busy. It was evident an insurrection had been in progress, but it was pretty well quelled when I got there. The mother had about suppressed it with an iron hand, but she was not running any risks. She kept a keen and wary eye upon all the children, not forgetting an occasional glance at the ‘old man’ in the doorway.
“She saw me as I came up, and from her look I thought she was of the opinion that I intended to interfere. Advancing to the doorway, and roughly pushing her husband aside, she demanded my business.
“‘Nothing, madame,’ I answered as gently as possible; ‘I merely dropped in as I came along to see how things were going.’
“‘Well, you needn’t wait,’ was the reply in an irritated way; ‘there’s trouble here, an’ lots of it, too, but I kin manage my own affairs without the help of outsiders. This is jest a family row, but I’ll teach these brats their places ef I hev to lick the hide off ev’ry one of them. I don’t do much talkin’, but I run this house, an’ I don’t want no one sneakin’ round tryin’ to find out how I do it, either.’
“That’s the case here with us,” the President said in conclusion. “We must let the other nations know that we propose to settle our family row in our own way, and ‘teach these brats their places’ (the seceding States) if we have to ‘lick the hide off’ of each and every one of them. And, like the old woman, we don’t want any ‘sneakin’ ‘round’ by other countries who would like to find out how we are to do it, either.
“Now, Seward, you write some diplomatic notes to that effect.”
And the Cabinet session closed.
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg