“It seems all right now though. I reckon I learned somethin’ watchin’ him be President—learned a lot—not that it made any difference in _him_. Funniest thing to see him goin’ around in this town—not a mite changed—and the whole United States a watchin’ him and the biggest men in the country runnin’ after him and reporters hangin’ around to talk to him and fellers makin’ his pictures in ile and every other way. That didn’t make no difference to him—only he didn’t like bein’ so busy he couldn’t come in here much. He had a room over there in the Court House—room on that corner there. I never looked up that it wan’t chuck full of people wantin’ him. This old town was full of people all the time—delegations and committees and politicians and newspaper men. Only time I ever see Horace Greeley, he came in here to buy quinine. Mr. Lincoln sent him. Think of that, Horace Greeley buyin’ quinine of _me_. [Illustration: “_Horace Greeley, he came in here to buy quinine_”] “No end of other great men around. He saw ’em all. Sometimes I used to step over and watch him—didn’t bother him a mite to see a big man—not a mite. He’d jest shake hands and talk as easy and natural as if ’twas me—and he didn’t do no struttin’ either. Some of the fellers who come to see him looked as if _they_ was goin’ to be president, but Mr. Lincoln didn’t put on any airs. No, sir, and he didn’t cut any of his old friends either. Tickled to death to see ’em every time, and they all come—blamed if every old man and woman in Sangamon County didn’t trot up here to see him. They’d all knowed him when he was keepin’ store down to New Salem and swingin’ a chain—surveyed lots of their towns for ’em—he had—and then he’d electioneered all over that county, too, so they just come in droves to bid him good-by. I was over there one day when old Aunt Sally Lowdy came in the door. Aunt Sally lived down near New Salem, and I expect she’d mended Mr. Lincoln’s pants many a time; for all them old women down there just doted on him and took care of him as if he was their own boy. Well, Aunt Sally stood lookin’ kind a scared seein’ so many strangers and not knowin’ precisely what to do, when Mr. Lincoln spied her. Quick as a wink he said, ‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ and he just rushed over to that old woman and shook hands with both of his’n and says, ‘Now, Aunt Sally, this is real kind of you to come and see me. How are you and how’s Jake?’ (Jake was her boy.) ‘Come right over here,’ and he led her over, as if she was the biggest lady in Illinois, and says, ‘Gentlemen, this is a good old friend of mine. She can make the best flapjacks you ever tasted, and she’s baked ’em for me many a time.’ Aunt Sally was jest as pink as a rosy, she was so tickled. And she says, ‘Abe’—all the old folks in Sangamon called him Abe. They knowed him as a boy, but don’t you believe anybody ever did up here. No, sir, we said Mr. Lincoln. He was like one of us, but he wan’t no man to be over familiar with.