I went to the White
House. I admit that war-times are busy times--but those infernal White
House flunkies kept me waiting in the reception-rooms for four hours! I
told my plans to the ushers, to a waiting soldier or two, and to a
foreign diplomat with whom I struck up a talk. All of them acted
suspiciously, and I believe were jealous of my wisdom. When, for the
third time, an usher took my card--or pretended to take my card--to the
President, his secretary came down to me. At first I told him that my
secret was for the President's ear alone; but at last I gave him a clew
to the nature of my business. He left me, but he did not return. Such is
reflected political power. But I thought of my power--aye, and physical
power, too--the only real power. I never blamed the President--I to this
day believe that that fellow H---- never told Lincoln of my visit to the
White House."
After an appreciative murmur and movement on the part of Bainbridge and
myself--for we felt like laughing, and yet sighs of wonderment were
expected by Castleton--and after a grunt from Arthur in his corner, I
asked, for want of something better to say,
"Were you ever in the army, doctor?"
"Well--ah--no--yes--no, sir; not exactly," Castleton replied.
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