About this time a couple of Kentucky gentlemen called. As they rose to take leave, one of them, who may have noticed little Tad,—as he usually spent much time in his father's office,—said to the President: "General Crittenden told me an interesting incident about his son, eight or nine years old, a few days since. A day or two after the battle of Chickamauga, the little fellow came into camp. The General rode during the battle a horse which went by the name of John Jay, a great favorite with his son. Manifesting his delight upon again seeing his father, by covering him with caresses, the child at length said, 'Papa, where is John Jay?' 'Oh,' said his father, 'your horse behaved very badly during the fight; he insisted, very cowardly, upon taking me to the rear.' The little fellow's eyes sparkled. 'Papa,' said he, 'I know John Jay would never have done that of his own will. It must have been your work.' "
Montgomery Blair told me that when the convention which nominated Mr. Lincoln met at Chicago, there was a hideous painting in the hall which was brought forward subsequently as a likeness of the nominee. Most of the delegates having never seen the original, the effect upon them was indescribable. I replied to Mr. Blair that my friend Brady, the photographer, insisted that his photograph of Mr. Lincoln, taken the morning of the day he made his Cooper Institute speech in New York,—
