That riled me. “I reckon there ain’t any need to worry about _that_, Isaac,” I says. “You won’t never be president. Mr. Lincoln’s got too many folks around him now that don’t do nuthin’ but give orders. That’s one reason he has to do his own executin’.” But ’twas just like him to go and do it himself. So interested he _had_ to see to it. I’ve heard different ones tell time and time again that whenever he’d pardoned a soldier he couldn’t rest till he’d get word back that ’twas all right. Did you ever hear about that Vermont boy in McClellan’s army, sentenced to be shot along at the start for sleepin’ on his post. ’Twas when they was camped over in Virginia right near Washington. Mr. Lincoln didn’t know about it till late and when he heard the story he telegraphed down not to do it. Then he telegraphed askin’ if they’d got his orders and when he didn’t get an answer what does he do but get in his carriage and drive himself ten miles to camp to see that they didn’t do it. Now that’s what I call bein’ a real president. _That’s_ executin’. Well, as I was sayin’, _he_ understood the importance of a lot of things them young officers and some of the old ones didn’t see at all, and he knew where to get the truth about ’em--went right to the soldiers for it. They was just like the folks he was used to, and Mr. Lincoln was the greatest hand for folks--just plain common folks--you ever see. He liked ’em, never forgot ’em, just natural nice to ’em. It used to rile old Judge Davis a lot when they was travelin’ the circuit, the way Mr. Lincoln never made no difference between lawyers and common folks. I heard Judge Logan tellin’ in here one day about their all bein’ in the tavern up to Bloomington one day. In those times there was just one big table for everybody. The lawyers and big bugs always set at one end and the teamsters and farmers at the other. Mr. Lincoln used to like to get down among the workin’ folks and get the news. Reckon he got kinda tired hearin’ discussin’ goin’ on all the time. Liked to hear about the crops and politics and folks he knew. This time he was down among ’em, and Judge Davis, who always wanted Lincoln right under his nose, calls out: “Come up here, Mr. Lincoln; here’s where you belong.” And Mr. Lincoln, he looked kinda funny at the Judge and he says: “Got anything better to eat up there, Judge?” And everybody tee-heed. Feelin’ as he did about folks I could see how it would go ag’in the grain for the boys in the army to have a harder time than was necessary. He’d argue that they was doin’ the fightin’ and ought to have the care. He’d feel a good deal worse about their bein’ neglected than he would about the things he knew beforehand he had to stand, like woundin’ and killin’. And ’twas just that way so I found out the time I was down to Washington visitin’ him.