"I shall miss the train," she sobbed. "The expressman hasn't come for my trunk."
"That is too bad," Lincoln answered, at the same time gently patting her head. "Tell me, my child, where you were going."
"To visit my aunt. And a little frind of mine was to go with me, and I have never been on the cars in my life,—and O dear! my friend is probably at the station waiting for me now."
At this thought she began to cry afresh. Mr. Lincoln's tender heart was touched.
"How big is the trunk?" he asked. "If it isn't too big, there is time enough."
As he spoke he made his way up to the door of the house, where the child's mother was standing. She led the way inside and pointed out the trunk. It was a small one. Lincoln lifted it easily to his strong shoulders, at the same time bidding the little girl to wipe her eyes.
"Come, quick, and I guess we can catch the train," he said cheerily.
With the child by his side, he strode down the street. They were still some distance from the station when they heard the train coming.
"Take my hand, little one, we'll get there yet," Lincoln told the child. With the trunk still on his
