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audience rose and roared and yelled and stamped and clapped an entire
minute--Grant sitting as serene as ever--when Gen. Sherman stepped to
him, laid his hand affectionately on his shoulder, bent respectfully
down and whispered in his ear. Gen. Grant got up and bowed, and the
storm of applause swelled into a hurricane. He sat down, took about the
same position and froze to it till by and by there was another of those
deafening and protracted roars, when Sherman made him get up and bow
again. He broke up his attitude once more--the extent of something more
than a hair's breadth--to indicate me to Sherman when the house was
keeping up a determined and persistent call for me, and poor bewildered
Sherman, (who did not know me), was peering abroad over the packed
audience for me, not knowing I was only three feet from him and most
conspicuously located, (Gen. Sherman was Chairman.)
One of the most illustrious individuals on that stage was "Ole Abe,"
the historic war eagle. He stood on his perch--the old savage-eyed
rascal--three or four feet behind Gen. Sherman, and as he had been
in nearly every battle that was mentioned by the orators his soul was
probably stirred pretty often, though he was too proud to let on.
Read Logan's bosh, and try to imagine a burly and magnificent Indian, in
General's uniform, striking a heroic attitude and getting that stuff off
in the style of a declaiming school-boy.
Please put the enclosed scraps in the drawer and I will scrap-book them.
530
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