(10-11-2013 05:40 PM)Eva Elisabeth Wrote:  AFAIK, Ronald Reagan was one of the oldest to take office. Was there any older president?

(10-12-2013 05:54 PM)L Verge Wrote:  We used to make something similar with plums and vodka. We were the ones who bounced -- off the walls. Ours was called Plum-Dum, as in being plum-dumb to drink it. But it was sure good.

(10-12-2013 07:54 PM)Anita Wrote:  

(10-12-2013 05:54 PM)L Verge Wrote:  We used to make something similar with plums and vodka. We were the ones who bounced -- off the walls. Ours was called Plum-Dum, as in being plum-dumb to drink it. But it was sure good.

Thank you. I needed a laugh. It's been a long day. I never thought about what the "Bounce" referred to in those old Southern recipes. Makes complete sense.

(10-13-2013 05:01 AM)RJNorton Wrote:  Anita, thank you for posting that link! I enjoyed that article. Now, if that be the case and as an animal lover, I will set about to prove this story true. It's one of my favorite Lincoln stories and comes from an old book (1906) by J. B. McClure:

"An amusing incident occurred in connection with 'riding the circuit,' which gives a pleasant glimpse into the good lawyer's heart. He was riding by a deep slough, in which, to his exceeding pain, he saw a pig struggling, and with such faint efforts that it was evident that he could not extricate himself from the mud. Mr. Lincoln looked at the pig and the mud which enveloped him, and then looked at some new clothes with which he had but a short time before enveloped himself. Deciding against the claims of the pig, he rode on, but he could not get rid of the vision of the poor brute, and, at last, after riding two miles, he turned back, determined to rescue the animal at the expense of his new clothes. Arrived at the spot, he tied his horse, and coolly went to work to build of old rails a passage to the bottom of the hole. Descending on these rails, he seized the pig and dragged him out, but not without serious damage to the clothes he wore. Washing his hands in the nearest brook, and wiping them on on the grass, he mounted his gig and rode along. He then fell to examining the motive that sent him back to the release of the pig. At the first thought, it seemed to be pure benevolence, but, at length, he came to the conclusion that it was selfishness, for he certainly went to the pig's relief in order (as he said to the friend to whom he related the incident) to "take a pain out of his mind." This is certainly a new view of the nature of sympathy, and one which it will be well for the casuist to examine."