CHRISTMAS FOR TAD
A Story of Mary and Abraham Lincoln
BY
HELEN TOPPING MILLER
LONGMANS, GREEN AND COMPANY
NEW YORK · LONDON · TORONTO
1956
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., INC.
55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 3
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. Ltd.
6 & 7 CLIFFORD STREET, LONDON W 1
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
20 CRANFIELD ROAD, TORONTO 16
CHRISTMAS FOR TAD
COPYRIGHT · 1956
BY HELEN TOPPING MILLER
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE THIS BOOK, OR ANY PORTION THEREOF, IN ANY FORM
PUBLISHED SIMULTANEOUSLY IN THE DOMINION OF CANADA BY
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., TORONTO
FIRST EDITION
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER 56-10108
Printed in the United States of America
1
The package was very tightly sealed.
There was a heavy cord around it fastenedwith thick blobs of wax and Tad Lincoln, whohad been christened Thomas, stood fidgetingwhile his father worked at it patiently, withthe old horn-handled knife that opened andshut with a sharp click.
Outside was the gloom of late December.That December of 1863, when the fortunes ofthe Federal armies had taken a little swing upward,but when war still lay like a poisonous,tragic, and heartbreaking shadow over a wholecountry. But to Tad Lincoln December meantChristmas, and packages meant surprises, importantto a ten-year-old boy.
Tad stood first on one foot, then the other,impatiently, because Papa was so slow in opening2this package. A round-faced boy, with hismother’s brown eyes and hair, he was a sturdyfigure in the miniature uniform of a Unioncolonel that his father had had made for him.The coat fitted him jauntily, all the brass buttonsfastened up in regulation fashion; therewere epaulets and braid and long trousers lyingproperly over his toes, so that the copper toesof his boots showed. He had a belt and a sword,but he was not wearing them now. Swords werefor engagements, reviews, and parades, theofficers of Company K had instructed him.Among friends indoors an officer took off hisbelt and hung it in a safe place.
His father’s fingers were mighty long andbony, Tad was thinking, and awkward, too.One thumbnail was thicker and darker thanthe other nails and Tad touched it gently withhis forefinger.
“What makes your thumb like that, Papa?”he asked.
The long yellowed hand put down the knifeand the deep-set, steel-gray eyes of AbrahamLincoln studied the thumb intently as thoughhe had never seen it before.
“Once there was an ax, Tad,” he drawled, his3heavy eyebrows flicking up and down, his longmouth quirked up at one corner. “It didn’t wantto go where I aimed it, so I said, says I, nowwho is boss here, Mister Ax, you or Abe Lincoln?You chop where I aim for you to chop,Mister Ax. So I made it hit where I wanted it tohit but it jumped back and took a whack at mejust to show me that it could be the boss if itwanted to.