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LONDON:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;
EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
1872.
his is such a capital night for a story, papa," said Robert Lincoln tohis father, who had laid away his newspaper and seemed inclined to takean extra forty winks.
"Indeed, Robert," said Mr. Lincoln, smiling, "I wonder if you would evertire of hearing stories. I don't think I have one left; you and Lilyhave managed to exhaust my store."
"O papa, please don't say that," cried Lily, who was putting away herschool-books on their proper shelf at the end of the room. "I am sure,if you shut your eyes and think very hard for a few minutes, you will besure to find one."
"Very well, then, I shall try," said Mr. Lincoln; "perhaps there may beone among the cobwebs in my brain." Covering his face over with hisnewspaper, Mr. Lincoln lay back in his chair, and the children, drawingtheir stools closer to the fire, waited in patience to see the result ofhis meditation. It soon became evident, however, by his breathing, whichbecame louder and longer, that Mr. Lincoln was falling asleep, and whenat last he gave a loud snore, Robert could stand it no longer, andspringing up, pulled th