Chapter 40

But now I have better things to write of things that have some
relish of good in them. I was very weak and low from loss of blood
for days, and, suddenly, the tide turned. I had won recognition for
distinguished gallantry they told me - that day they took me to
Washington. I lay three weeks there in the hospital. As soon as
they heard of my misfortune at home Uncle Eb wrote he was
coming to see me. I stopped him by a telegram, assuring him that I
was nearly well and would be home shortly.

My term of enlistment had expired when they let me out a fine day
in mid August. I was going home for a visit as sound as any man
but, in the horse talk of Faraway, I had a little 'blemish'on the left
shoulder. Uncle Eb was to meet me at the jersey City depot.
Before going I, with others who had been complimented for
bravery, went to see the president. There were some twenty of us
summoned to meet him that day. It was warm and the great
Lincoln sat in his shirt-sleeves at a desk in the middle of his big
office. He wore a pair of brown carpet slippers, the rolling collar
and black stock now made so familiar in print. His hair was
tumbled. He was writing hurriedly when we came in. He laid his
pen away and turned to us without speaking. There was a careworn
look upon his solemn face.

'Mr President,' said the general, who had come with us, 'here are
some of the brave men of our army, whom you wished to see.

He came and shook hands with each and thanked us in the name of
the republic, for the example of courage and patriotism we and
many others had given to the army. He had a lean, tall, ungraceful
figure and he spoke his mind without any frill or flourish. He said
only a few words of good plain talk and was done with us.

'Which is Brower?' he enquired presently.

I came forward more scared than ever I had been before.

'My son,' he said, taking my hand in his, 'why didn't you run?'

'Didn't dare,' I answered. 'I knew it was more dangerous to run
away than to go forward.'

'Reminds me of a story,' said he smiling. 'Years ago there was a
bully in Sangamon County, Illinois, that had the reputation of
running faster and fighting harder than any man there. Everybody
thought he was a terrible fighter. He'd always get a man on the
run; then he'd ketch up and give him a licking. One day he tadded
a lame man. The lame man licked him in a minute.

'"Why didn't ye run?" somebody asked the victor.

'"Didn't dast," said he. "Run once when he tackled me an I've been
lame ever since."

"How did ye manage to lick him?" said the other.

'"Wall," said he, "I hed to, an' I done it easy."

'That's the way it