I know, when I left him, that I was more than ever impressed by his kindly nature, his deep and earnest sympathy with the afflictions of the whole people, resulting from the war, and by the march of hostile armies through the South; and that his earnest desire seemed to be to end the war speedily, without more bloodshed or devastation, and to restore all the men of both sections to their homes. In the language of his second inaugural address he seemed to have "charity for all, malice toward none," and, above all, an absolute faith in the courage, manliness, and integrity of the armies in the field. When at rest or listening, his legs and arms seemed to hang almost lifeless, and his face was care-worn and haggard; but the moment he began to talk his face lightened up, his tall form, as it were, unfolded, and he was the very impersonation of good-humor and fellowship. The last words I recall as addressed to me were that he would feel better when I was back at Goldsboro'. We parted at the gang-way of the River Queen about noon of March 28th, and I never saw him again. Of all the men I ever met, he seemed to possess more of the elements of greatness, combined with goodness, than any other. LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY IDA VOSE WOODBURY Again thy birthday dawns, O man beloved, Dawns on the land thy blood was shed to save, And hearts of millions, by one impulse moved, Bow and fresh laurels lay upon thy grave. The years but add new luster to thy glory, And watchmen on the heights of vision see Reflected in thy life the old, old story, The story of the Man of Galilee. We see in thee the image of Him kneeling Before the close-shut tomb, and at the word "Come forth," from out the blackness long concealing There rose a man; clearly again was heard The Master's voice, and then, his cerements broken, Friends of the dead a living brother see; Thou, at the tomb where millions lay, hast spoken: "Loose him and let him go!"--the slave was free. And in the man so long in thraldom hidden We see the likeness of the Father's face, Clod changed to soul; by thy atonement bidden, We hasten to the uplift of a race. Spirit of Lincoln! Summon all thy loyal; Nerve them to follow where thy feet have trod, To prove, by voice as clear and deed as royal, Man's brotherhood in our one Father--God. FEBRUARY TWELFTH BY MARY H. HOWLISTON It was early in the evening in a shop where flags were sold. There were large flags, middle-sized flags, small flags and little bits of flags. The finest of all was Old Glory. Old Glory was made of silk and hung in graceful folds from the wall. "Attention!" called Old Glory. Starry eyes all over the room looked at him. "What day of the month is it?" "February Twelfth," quickly answered the flags. "Whose birthday is it?" "Abraham Lincoln's." "Where is he buried?" "Springfield, Illinois."