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 goes,' said the immortal president, 'ye do it easy if ye have to.