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it, considering the cordial relations which existed between the two men. Mr. Beecher knew of Edward’s relations with the ex-President, and they had often talked of him together.
Nothing more was said of the incident. When the Beecher home was reached Mr. Beecher said: “Just come in a minute.” He went straight to his desk, and wrote and wrote. It seemed as if he would never stop. At last he handed Edward an eight-page letter, closely written, addressed to General Hayes.
“Read that, and mail it, please, on your way home. Then it’ll get there just as quickly as the New York papers will.”
It was a superbly fine letter,—one of those letters which only Henry Ward Beecher could write in his tenderest moods. And the reply which came from Fremont, Ohio, was no less fine!
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