During the Confederate attack on Fort Stevens, President Lincoln came out from the White House to make a tour of Union defenses. The task of piloting him fell to Oliver Wendell Holmes, aide-de-camp to the general in command. Lincoln wanted to know where the enemy was, and Holmes pointed them out. The President stood up to look. Standing, and supplemented by his high plug hat, Mr. Lincoln was a target of exceptional visibility, and there came a snarl of musketry fire.

Grabbing the President by the arm, the young officer dragged him under cover, saying, "Get down, you fool!"

This was riot the approved style for an officer to employ in addressing the commander-in-chief of the armed forces of his country. The youthful aide's relief from worry came when, just as Lincoln was quitting the fort, he took the trouble to walk back.

"Good-bye, Colonel Holmes," he said. "I'm glad to see you know how to talk to a civilian."

The Handbook of Magazine Article Writing contains this illustration by Philip Barry Osborne:

Alex Haley, the author of Roots, has a picture in his office, showing a turtle sitting atop a fence. The picture is there to remind him of a lesson he learned long ago: "If you see a turtle on a fence post, you know he had some help."

Says Alex, "Any time I start thinking, Wow, isn't this marvelous what I've done! I look at that picture and remember how this turtle-me-got up on that post."

A young stranger to the Alps was making his first climb, accompanied by two stalwart guides. It was a steep, hazardous ascent. But he felt secure with one guide ahead and one following. For hours they climbed. And now, breathless, they reached for those rocks protruding through the snow above them-the summit.

The guide ahead wished to let the stranger have the first glorious view of heaven and earth, and moved aside to let him go first. Forgetting the gales that would blow across those summit rocks, the young man leaped to his feet. But the chief guide dragged him down.

"On your knees, sir!" he shouted. "You are never safe here except on your knees." -George Vandeman

Self Importance

Dr. Smith died. When he got to the pearly gates, there was a very large crowd of people waiting to get into heaven. Dr. Smith went up to St. Peter and said "I'm Dr. Smith, and I want to get in there."

St. Peter told Dr. Smith "Yes...yes...you need to go to the back of the line."

Dr. Smith became indignant, and said "You don't understand...my name is DOCTOR Smith!"

St. Peter again told him that he needed to go to the back of the line. Angrily, Dr. Smith complied.

Then Dr. Jones died. He went through the same scenario of going around the crowd and telling St. Peter that he wanted to enter the gates. As was Dr. Smith, Dr. Jones was told he needed to go to the back of the line and wait his turn.

"But you don't understand! I am DOCTOR Jones!" He cried.

He was told again to go to the back of the line. As Dr. Smith and Dr. Jones stood in line commiserating, they saw another man walk around the crowd and approach St. Peter. This man was wearing a white lab coat and had a stethoscope around his neck. He said something to St. Peter, then entered the gates of heaven. Now Dr. Smith and Dr. Jones were irate!

"How come he did not have to wait in line?" Dr. Smith bellowed.

A guy further up the line replied "Oh, that's just God. He thinks

he's a doctor!"

Reporters and city officials gathered at a Chicago railroad station one afternoon in 1953. The person they were meeting was the 1952 Nobel Peace Prize winner. A few minutes after the train came to a stop, a giant of a man - six feet four inches - with bushy hair and a large mustache stepped from the train. Cameras flashed. City officials approached him with hands outstretched. Various people began telling him how honored they were to meet him.

The man politely thanked them and then, looking over their heads, asked if he could be excused for a moment. He quickly walked through the crowd until he reached the side of an elderly black woman who was struggling with two large suitcases. He picked up the bags and with a smile, escorted the woman to a bus. After helping her aboard, he wished her a safe journey. As he returned to the greeting party he apologized, "Sorry to have kept you waiting."

The man was Dr. Albert Schweitzer, the famous missionary doctor who had spent his life helping the poor in Africa. In response to Schweitzer's action, one member of the reception committee said with great admiration to the reporter standing next to him, "That's the first time I ever saw a sermon walking."