A Story Of Buchanan

Two yeaas ago the writer made a journey from Yankton to Swan Lak e by stage in company with Cbief'-Justice Shannon, of Dakota Territory. Puring the trip the Judge narrated the following : 'Tvisited Washiogton early in 1861 to receivo my appointnient to this place. I called upon President Buchanan in the evening at tho White House. We had long known each other, and he reccived me cordially. My home had been at Pittsburg, and we had met in party counoils, courts and conventions for niany yoars. During the conversation of the oveninjj the President asked mo what the people, the democracy of tho west, thought of the ovents then taking place. I answered him truly, that the people would stand by the flag regardless of party. At this time the rebellion had actually bcgun. State after state seceded. I remained an hour or more, and arose to withdraw, wlien President Buohanau. without hia bat, fbllowed me to the door, out down the walk to the gate, and there, with a voico ülled with euiotion, be said ; " 'Judgo, I have no doubt uut tbat you have told truly ; but what can I do, surrounded upon all sides by the frieuds of sceossion; by raen believing in stato riphls ; oven watched in the seclusion of my home? For,' Baid tho old man bitterly, 'that bcautiful lady sitting there in our company, was none other than a southern spy upon my home, speech and acts, and, upon onc pretenso or anothcr, such has been tho casq for nionths,a constant espoinagc. Whithcr the couutry is tending I cannot teil. Wc must trust in Uod and the incoming administration. I eau do nothing - watehod day andnight - and it is too late toeall about me other counselors and ad visors." "And," said Mr. Shannon, "1 shall nevor forget the picture the old man presonted at tliis moment - his hair streaming in the wind ; his whole frame shaking with cmotion, the tears running down his oheeks. And thus I saw him for the last time. I shook his hand, bade him goodbye, and departed.