Mr. Ford made the young woman accompany him into the office, and when they were seated, said to her: “Now, my good girl, I want you to muster all the courage you have in the world. When the President comes back he will sit down in that arm-chair. I shall get up to speak to him, and as I do so you must force yourself between us, and insist upon his examination of your papers, telling him it is a case of life and death, and admits of no delay.” These instructions were carried out to the letter. Mr. Lincoln was at first somewhat surprised at the apparent forwardness of the young woman, but observing her distressed appearance, he ceased conversation with his friend, and commenced an examination of the document she had placed in his hands. Glancing from it to the face of the petitioner, whose tears had broken forth afresh, he studied its expression for a moment, and then his eye fell upon her scanty but neat dress. Instantly his face lighted up. “My poor girl,” said he, “you have come here with no governor, or senator, or member of congress, to plead your cause. You seem honest and truthful; and”--with much emphasis--“you don’t wear ‘_hoops_’; and I will be whipped but I will pardon your brother!” Among the applicants received on another occasion by the President, was a woman who had also met with considerable difficulty and delay in getting admission to him. She said that her husband had been arrested some months before and sent to the “Old Capitol” prison; that he had not been “tried,” and could not learn as he was likely to be; and she appealed to the President as a husband and father to interfere and order an immediate trial. Mr. Lincoln said he was sorry this could not be done,--adding that such cases were much like the different sacks of grain at a country grist-mill, all “waiting their turn to be ground,” and that it would be unfair for the “_miller_” to show any “partiality.” The woman left, but the next day appeared again before him. Recognizing her, Mr. Lincoln asked if anything “new” had happened. “No,” replied the woman; “but I have been thinking, sir, about what you said concerning the ‘grists,’ and I am afraid _mine_ will get ‘mouldy’ and ‘spoil’ before its turn comes around, so I have come to ask, Mr. President, that it may be taken to some other ‘mill’ to be ground.” Mr. Lincoln was so much amused at the wit and shrewdness of the request, that he instantly gave the woman an unconditional discharge for her husband. LXXIV. “Good morning, Abe!” was the greeting addressed to the President, as we sat together in his office one morning,--he absorbed at his desk, and I with my pencil. I looked up in astonishment at the unaccustomed familiarity. “Why, Dennis,” returned Mr. Lincoln, “is this you?” “Yes, Abe,” was the rejoinder; “I made up my mind I must come down and see you once while you were President, anyhow. So here I am, all the way from Sangamon.”