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The following anecdote of the late President Lincoln has never been published, I think, and unlike, perhaps, some of the stories attributed to him, is an actual fact, for I have it from one who
was present at the time and sat next the hero.
During Mr. Lincoln’s practice of his profession
of the law, long before he was thought of for President,
he was attending the Circuit Court which
met at Bloomington, Illinois. The Prosecuting Attorney,
a lawyer by the name of Lamon, was a man
of great physical strength, and took particular pleasure
in athletic sports, and was so fond of wrestling
that his power and experience rendered him a formidable
and generally successful opponent. One
pleasant day in the fall Lamon was wrestling near
the court-house with some one who had challenged
him to a trial, and in the scuffle made a large rent
in the rear of his unmentionables. Before he had
time to make any change he was called into court
to take up a case. The evidence was finished, and
Lamon got up to address the jury, and having on a
somewhat short coat his misfortune was rather apparent.
One of the lawyers, for a joke, started a
subscription paper, which was passed from one member
of the bar to another as they sat by a long table
fronting the bench, to buy a pair of pantaloons for
Lamon, “he being,” the paper said, “a poor but
worthy young man.” Several put down their names
with some ludicrous subscription, and finally the
paper was laid by some one in front of Mr. Lincoln,
on a plea that he was engaged in writing at the
time. He quietly glanced over the paper, and immediately
took up his pen and wrote after his name, “I can contribute nothing to the end in view.”
–George William Curtis, The Editor’s Drawer, Harper’s Magazine, March 1866.
More from Scott Horton:
Conversation — August 5, 2016, 12:08 pm
Sidney Blumenthal on the origins of the Republican Party, the fallout from Clinton’s emails, and his new biography of Abraham Lincoln
Conversation — March 30, 2016, 3:44 pm
Joseph Hickman discusses his new book, The Burn Pits, which tells the story of thousands of U.S. soldiers who, after returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, have developed rare cancers and respiratory diseases.
Flor Arely Sánchez had been in bed with a fever and pains throughout her body for three days when a July thunderstorm broke over the mountainside. She got nervous when bolts of light flashed in the sky. Lightning strikes the San Julián region of western El Salvador several times a year, and her neighbors fear storms more than they fear the march of diseases — first dengue, then chikungunya, now Zika. Flor worried about a lot of things, since she was pregnant.
Late in the afternoon, when the pains had somewhat eased, Flor thought she might go to a dammed-up bit of the river near her house to bathe. She is thirty-five and has lived in the same place all her life, where wrinkled hills are planted with corn, beans, and fruit trees. She took a towel and soap and walked out into the rain. Halfway to the river, the pains returned and overcame her. The next thing Flor remembers, she was in a room she didn’t recognize, unable to move. As she soon discovered, she was in a hospital, her ankle cuffed to the bed, and she was being investigated for abortion.
Amount the town of Rolfe, Iowa, will pay anyone who builds a home there:
Ancient Egyptians worshiped some dwarves as gods.
In Italy, a judge ordered that a man who paid for sex with a 15-year-old girl must buy her 30 feminist-themed books, including The Diary of Anne Frank and the poems of Emily Dickinson.
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“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”