Into the gaunt, haggard, ashen face came, as he talked, the light of the high purpose that filled his soul. To Rhett Bannister, looking on him, listening in breathless suspense, it seemed almost as though, like the angel at the sepulchre, “his countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow.” The mighty and homely spirit that had dominated great minds in this tremendous conflict, and bent them to its will, had already laid its spell on the mind of this one-time hater of the nation’s chief. Abraham Lincoln stood revealed before him now, not as the ambitious tyrant, the crafty plotter, the traitor to his kind, but as the one man of greatest skill, of wisest thought, of tenderest heart, of largest soul, whom the troublous times had brought forth. In the silence that followed Lincoln’s words, as Bannister sat mute and thrilled, he felt that every heart-beat in his breast was hammering down the last barrier that stood between him and the personality of the great President. Henceforth, no matter how divergent their views, their logic, their ways to conclusions, in the essence of a large patriotism and a great humanity their souls had touched, and they were one. At length Bannister spoke. It was his last word, his final protest, his weak clutch at the floating, fading straw. “But the pride of the South, Mr. President; the pride of the South!” Lincoln sat back and crossed his legs, and over his face there came a reminiscent smile. “Up in Sangamon County,” he said, “when I lived there, I knew a man by the name of Seth Mills. He owned a spring in common with his neighbor Sam Lewis. But they couldn’t agree on the amount of water each should have, nor how much could be carried away by trough; and their quarrel over the spring led to a fight and a lawsuit. Well, when I went up to Springfield, the controversy was still on, but Seth was getting a good bit the worst of it. One day he came up to Springfield to see me, and when he came into my office I said to myself: ‘The spring war has reached an acute stage.’ But Seth sat down and said: ‘Abe, I’ve decided to be generous to Sam. He’s licked me in the courts of Sangamon County, but I _could_ take the case up to the Supreme Court of the United States and make him a lot o’ trouble and cost. But I ain’t goin’ to do it. I’m goin’ to swaller my pride an’ be liberal with him. Now I’ve proposed to Sam that he chip in an’ we’ll build the spring bigger an’ deeper, an’ wall it up, an’ put in a pipe big enough to run water to both our houses. It’ll cost two or three dollars, but I believe it’s wuth it. An’ Sam has yielded the p’int and accepted the offer.’” Lincoln laughed softly and then continued:--