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Updated: June 21, 2025
Love of music was not one of the Honorable William Linder's attributes. An irascible temper was. Of all instruments the B-flat trombone possesses the most nerve-jarring tone. The master of the mansion leaped from his restful chair. Where his feet had ornamented the coping his face now appeared. Far out he leaned, and roared at the musician below.
He had recollections of Linder as a sound sleeper. But even as this possibility entered his mind he heard Linder's phlegmatic voice in his ear. "Oh, Linder! I'm so glad I got you. Rush this message to Phyllis Bruce.... Linder?... Linder!" There was no answer. Nothing but a hollow, empty sound on the wire, as though it led merely into the universe in general.
Linder's appreciative eye took in the scene: a scene of stupendous sizes and magnificent distances. As he slowly turned his vision down the valley a speck in the distance caught his sight and brought him to his feet. Shading his eyes from the bright afternoon sun he surveyed it long and carefully. There was no doubt about it: a haying outfit was already at work down the valley.
"I am inventing a machine that will make a noise like a trolley-car and a smell like a sewer. That will add the last touch in city refinements." When the laugh over Linder's invention had subsided Murdoch broached another. "The office work is becoming pretty heavy, Mr. Grant, and I'm none too confident in the help I have. Now if I could send for Miss Bruce "
As Linder's eye caught her and her husband in the same glance his mind involuntarily leapt to the suggestion of what the offspring of such a pair must be. The men of the cattle country have a proper appreciation of heredity.... "My wife Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder," said the rancher, with a courtliness which sat strangely on his otherwise rough-and-ready speech.
Lincoln suggested that the best thing they could do would be to run Benedict, the prosecuting attorney, as far into the night as possible, in hopes that he might, in his rage, commit some indiscretion that would help their case. Lincoln began, but to save his life he could not speak one hour, and the laboring oar fell into Linder's hands. "But," said Lincoln, "he was equal to the occasion.
"Nor have I. Not in that kind of human nature which is always wanting something for nothing." Linder's report was more cheerful. The houses and barns were built and were now being painted, the plowing was done, and the fences were being run.
I have not told you about the very serious progress that Mr. George Thompson has made since the last exhibition; I have not described his two admirable pictures; nor mentioned Mr. Linder's landscape, nor Mr. Buxton Knight's "Haymaking Meadows", nor Mr. Christie's pretty picture "A May's Frolic," nor Mr.
But if Lincoln had not General Linder's art of "talking against time," his wit often suggested some readier method of gaining advantage in a case. On one occasion, a suit was on trial in the Circuit Court of Sangamon County, in which Lincoln was attorney for the plaintiff, and Mr. James C. Conkling, then a young man just entering practice, was attorney for the defendant.
And if the end would win the approval of Y.D. and of Y.D.'s daughter then any means was justified. Had not Linder said, "Burn the grass on the road?" Drazk knew well enough that Linder's remark was a figure of speech, but his eccentric mind found no trouble in converting it into literal instructions. Drazk sniffed the air and looked at the sun.
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