thing original: I am only a retail dealer."

At the very outset of the war, sundry wise men from New York urged Mr. Lincoln to draw away Confederate armies from Washington by naval attacks upon Southern seaports. It reminded him, he said, of a New Salem, Ills. girl, who was troubled with a "singing in her head," for which there seemed to be no remedy, but a neighbor promised a cure if they would "make a plaster of psalm tunes and apply to her feet and draw the singing down."

At the time when General Burnside's force was besieged in Knoxville, Tenn., with an apparent danger of being starved into surrender, a telegram came one day, from Cumberland Gap, announcing that

"Firing is heard in the direction of Knoxville."

"Glad of it!" exclaimed Mr. Lincoln.

"Why should you be glad of it?" asked a friend who was present, in some surprise.

"Why, you see," he explained, "it reminds me of Mrs. Sallie Ward, a neighbor of mine. She had a very large family. Occasionally one of her numerous progeny would be heard crying, in some out-of-theway place and she would exclaim, 'There's one of my children that isn't dead yet!''

A gentleman from California, a firm supporter of the government, had tried to obtain a pass through the lines to visit a brother in Virginia who was also a Union man. Having failed to obtain any deviation from the army regulations, he

called upon the President with his petition.

"Have you applied to General Halleck?" asked Mr. Lincoln.

"Yes, and met with a flat refusal." "Then you must see Stanton," "I have," said the applicant ruefully, "and "and the result was the

same."

"Well, then," said Mr. Lincoln, "I can do nothing; for you must know that I have very little influence with this Administration."

No doubt Mr. Lincoln sufficiently appreciated the good qualities of ex-President Fillmore, then living, but a mention of him, one evening, brought out a shot at the VicePresidential succession.

"Just after Taylor's death, when Fillmore succeeded him, Fillmore needed to buy a carriage. Some gentleman here was breaking up

housekeeping and had one for sale and Fillmore took Edward (the old doorkeeper of the White House) with him, when he went to look at it. It seemed to be a pretty good turnout, but Fillmore looked it carefully over and then asked Edward, 'How do you think it will do for the President of the United States to ride in a second-hand carriage?'

"Sure, your Excellency,' replied Edward, 'you're ownly a siccondhand Prisident, you know.""

At the very last, when the armies of the Confederacy were surrendering or disbanding, the question was asked Mr. Lincoln:

"What will you do with 'Jeff Davis'?"

"Well," replied Mr. Lincoln, "there was a boy in Springfield who saved up his money and bought

a 'coon, but, after the novelty wore off, it became a great nuisance. He was one day leading him through the streets and had his hands full to keep clear of the little vixen, who had torn his clothes half off of him. At length he sat down on the curbstone, completely fagged out. A man passing was stopped by the lad's disconsolate appearance, and asked what was the matter.

"Oh," said the boy, "this 'coon's such a trouble to me.".

"Why don't you get rid of him then?" asked the sympathizer.

"Hush," said the boy, " don't you see he is gnawing his rope off? I'm going to let him do it, and then I'll go home and tell the folks he got away from me."

Mr. Alexander H. Stephens relates that during the famous " peace conference," on a steamer in Hamp