I meant to do well by them."
His long strides had carried him into the outskirts of the city, and
suddenly, at a corner, from behind a hedge, a young boy of fifteen
years or so came rushing toward him and tripped and stumbled against
him, and Lincoln kept him from falling with a quick, vigorous arm. The
lad righted himself and tossed back his thick, light hair and stared
haughtily, and the President, regarding him, saw that his blue eyes
were blind with tears.
"Do you want all of the public highway? Can't a gentleman from the
South even walk in the streets without--without--" and the broken
sentence ended in a sob.
The anger and the insolence of the lad were nothing to the man who
towered above him--to that broad mind this was but a child in trouble.
"My boy, the fellow that's interfering with your walking is down
inside of you," he said gently, and with that the astonished youngster
opened his wet eyes wide and laughed--a choking, childish laugh that
pulled at the older man's heart-strings. "That's better, sonny," he
said, and patted the slim shoulder. "Now tell me what's wrong with the
world. Maybe I might help straighten it."
"Wrong, wrong!" the child raved; "everything's wrong," and launched
into a mad tirade against the government from the President down.
Lincoln listened patiently, and when the lad paused for breath, "Go
ahead," he said good-naturedly.
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