Lincoln took this attitude toward all minor things that could have absorbed his time for weightier questions. When General Phelps captured Ship Island, near New Orleans, early in the war, he took upon himself the power of freeing all the slaves on the island. This looked like something very important to many people, who were surprised that Lincoln took no notice of it. At last he was taken to task for it, and he settled the whole question with a story. There was once a man who was very meek but he had a very aggressive wife. He had the reputation of being badly henpecked. One day a friend saw the poor man's wife switching him out of the house. The first time the friend met the henpecked man, after that disgraceful episode, the friend said, "I have always stood up for you, as you well know, but now I am done with you. Any man who allows his wife to switch him out of the house deserves all he gets." The abused man patted his friend on the back and in a conciliating tone said, "Now don't feel that way about it, it didn't hurt me a bit, and you have no idea what a great amount of satisfaction it gives my dear wife." Lincoln saw things as symbols with moral meanings. On seeing a tree covered with a luxuriant vine, he said, "The vine is beautiful, but, like certain habits of men, it decorates the ruin it makes." Speaking of the difference in meaning between character and reputation, he said, "Character is like a tree and reputation is like its shadow. The shadow is what we think of it, but the real thing is the tree." Some influential people were urging him to declare the slaves free before conditions made such a thing practical. He pressed that point home to them with a question. "How many legs," he asked, "will a sheep have if you call the sheep's tail a leg?" They promptly answered five. "You are wrong," he replied, "for calling a sheep's tail a leg won't make it so." To importunate and impetuous persons Lincoln always had the right reply. Once a rather proud mother came before him with a rather haughty-looking son. "Mr. President," she said very conclusively, "you must give a Colonel's commission to my son." He waited for her to explain why he must do so. "Sir," she exclaimed, "I have a right to demand it. My grandfather fought at Lexington; my uncle stood his ground at Blandensburg; my father fought at New Orleans; and my husband was killed at Monterey." "I guess, Madam," Lincoln promptly replied, "that your family has done its share for its country. Let's give others a chance." IV. THE GREAT TRAGEDY