Mr. Leonard Volk, the sculptor who afterwards made an excellent bust of Lincoln, says:  “My first meeting with Abraham Lincoln was in 1858, when the celebrated Senatorial contest opened between him and Stephen A. Douglas.  I was invited by the latter to accompany him and his party by a special train to Springfield, to which train was attached a platform-car having on board a cannon, which made considerable noise on the journey.  At Bloomington we all stopped over night, as Douglas had a speech to make there in the evening.  The party went to the Landon House—­the only hotel, I believe, in the place at that time.  While we were sitting in the hotel office after supper, Mr. Lincoln entered, carrying an old carpet-bag in his hand, and wearing a weather-beaten silk hat—­too large, apparently, for his head—­a long, loosely-fitting frock-coat of black alpaca, and vest and trousers of the same material.  He walked up to the counter, and, saluting the clerk pleasantly, passed the bag over to him, and inquired if he was too late for supper.  The clerk replied that supper was over, but perhaps enough could be ‘scraped up’ for him.  ‘All right,’ said Mr. Lincoln; ‘I don’t want much.’  Meanwhile, he said, he would wash the dust off.  He was certainly very dusty; it was the month of June, and quite warm.  While he was so engaged, several old friends, who had learned of his arrival, rushed in to see him, some of them shouting, ‘How are you, Old Abe?’ Mr. Lincoln grasped them by the hand in his cordial manner, with the broadest and pleasantest smile on his rugged face.  This was the first good view I had of the ‘coming man.’  The next day we all stopped at the town of Lincoln, where short speeches were made by the contestants, and dinner was served at the hotel; after which, as Mr. Lincoln came out on the plank-walk in front, I was formally presented to him.  He saluted me with his natural cordiality, grasping my hand in both his large hands with a vice-like grip, and looking down into my face with his beaming, dark, full eyes, said:  ’How do you do?  I am glad to meet you.  I have read of you in the papers.  You are making a statue of Judge Douglas for Governor Matteson’s new house.’  ‘Yes, sir,’ I answered; ’and sometime when you are in Chicago, and can spare the time, I would like to have you sit to me for a bust.’  ’Yes, I will, Mr. Volk; I shall be glad to, the first opportunity I have.’  All were soon on board the long train, crowded with people, going to hear the speeches at Springfield.  The train stopped on the track, near Edward’s Grove, in the northern outskirts of the town, where staging was erected and a vast crowd waited under the shade of the trees.  On leaving the train, most of the passengers climbed over the fences and crossed the stubble-field, taking a short-cut to the grove,—­among them Mr. Lincoln, who stalked forward alone, taking immense strides, the before-mentioned carpet-bag and an umbrella in his hands, and his coat skirts flying in the breeze.  I managed to keep pretty close in the rear of the tall, gaunt figure, with the head craned forward, apparently much over the balance, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, that was moving something like a hurricane across that rough stubble-field.”