The morning after a public reception is no more a time to be late in rising, or in getting at work, than is any other morning. No matter if, after the reception, there was a private party-crush somewhere else, and the process of being entertained and of enjoying one's self continued till the small hours. The President will be at his desk by the window as early as usual.
It is true that there do not seem to be any set hours for either beginning or ending work in the national business office. Mr. Lincoln himself keeps no hours, and he never once has asked what his assistants here are doing with their time. They are supposed to know their duties, and are expected to do them without throwing any burden of supervision upon him. Nevertheless, he is an unconscious driver, and he is unintentionally though unrelentingly exacting. No person employed in connection with Mr. Lincoln's work would willingly be out of call if he were wanted; but if the President should send for a man and couldn't find him, he would send at once for another. He manages his generals and sea-captains somewhat upon the same principle, excepting that he now and then drops one of them, and does not afterward make any effort to find him--not so much as to ring a bell for him.
What is that thing lying on the table?
It should speak for itself. It is an entirely new pattern of cavalry-saddle, and the inventor wishes the President to recommend it to General Stoneman and General Pleasanton and the rest as the best saddle for cavalry that was ever devised. It has new features all over it and in it and under it, and when Mr. Lincoln examined it he remembered a story that we forget, but it was something about saddles and cavalry, and the ancient practice of riding barebacked. This specimen has been gotten up tremendously, but it has ornamented the President's room long enough, and so they have brought it over here.
No, Mr. Senator, if you wish to try it, you'll have to take it downstairs. No horses are permitted up here.