LINCOLN DEFENDS HIS USE OF THE WORD DOCUMENT. Mr. Defrees, the Government printer, states that, when one of the President's messages was being printed, he was a good deal disturbed by the use of the term "sugar-coated," and finally went to Mr. Lincoln about it. Their relations to each other being of the most intimate character, he told the President frankly that he ought to remember that a message to Congress was a different affair from a speech at a mass meeting in Illinois; that the messages became a part of history. and should be written accordingly. "What is the matter now?" inquired the President. "Why," said Mr. Defrees, "you have used an undignified expression in the message'; and then, reading the paragraph aloud, he added, "I would alter the structure of that if I were you.' "Defrees," replied Mr. Lincoln, "that word expresses exactly my idea, and I am not going to change it. The time will come in this country, when people won't know exactly what 'sugar-coated' means. On a subsequent occasion, Mr. Defrees states that a certain sentence of another message was very awkwardly constructed. Calling the President's attention to it in the proof copy, the latter acknowledged the force of the objection raised, and said, "Go home, Defrees, and see if you can better it." The next day Mr. Defrees took him his amendment. Mr. Lincoln met him by saying: "Seward found the same fault that you did, and he has been rewriting the paragraph also." Then, reading Mr. Defrees' version, he said, "I believe you have beaten Seward; but, 'I jings,' I think I can beat you both." Then, taking up his pen, he wrote the sentence as it was finally printed. BAILING OUT THE POTOMAC RIVER. An obscure officer persisted in telling and re-telling his troubles to the President on a summer afternoon when the President was tired and care worn. After listening patiently, he finally turned upon the man, and looking wearily out upon the broad Potomac in the distance, said in a peremptory tone that ended the interview: "Now, my man, go away, go away. I cannot meddle in your case. I could as easily bail out the Potomac River with a teaspoon as attend to all the details of the army." And thus one after another had to be disposed of, day after day. At another time, Governor went to the office of the War Department in a towering rage. I said to the President: "I suppose you found it necessary to make large concessions to him, as he returned from you perfectly satisfied." "Oh, no," he replied, "I did not concede anything. You have heard how that Illinois farmer got rid of a big log that was too big to haul out, too knotty to split, and too wet and soggy to burn. 'Well, now,' said he, in response to the inquiries of his neighbors one Sunday, as to how he got rid of it; 'Well, now, boys, if you won't divulge the secret, I'll tell you how I got rid of it-I ploughed around it.' Now," said Lincoln, "don't tell anybody, but that's I ploughed the way I got rid of Governor around him, but it took me three mortal hours to do it, and I was afraid every minute he'd see what I was at." THE HON. FREDERICK DOUGLASS TELLS OF AN INTERVIEW WITH LINCOLN. The well-known Frederick Douglass, in the North Western Advocate, says: "I saw and conversed with this great man for the first time in the darkest hours of the military situation when the armies of the rebellion seemed more confident, defiant and aggressive than ever. "I had never before had an interview with a President of the United States, and though I felt that I had something important to say, considering his exalted position and my lowly origin and the people whose cause I came to plead, I approached him with trepidation as to how this great man might receive me; but one word and look from him banished all my fears and set me perfectly at ease. I have often said since that meeting that it was much easier to see and converse with a great man than it was with a small man. "On that occasion he said: 66 'Douglass, you need not tell me who you are, Mr. Seward has told me all about you.' "I then saw that there was no reason to tell him my personal story, however interesting it might be to myself or others, so I told him at once the object of my visit. It was to get some expression from him upon three points: "1. Equal pay to colored soldiers. "2. Their promotion when they had earned it on the battle-field. "3. Should they be taken prisoners and enslaved or hanged, as Jefferson Davis had threatened, an equal number of Confederate prisoners should be executed within our lines. "A declaration to that effect I thought would prevent the execution of the rebel threat. To all but the last President Lincoln assented. He argued, however, that neither equal pay nor promotion could be granted at once. He said that in view of existing prejudices it was a great step forward to employ colored troops at all; that it was necessary to avoid everything that would offend this prejudice and increase opposition to the measure. "He detailed the steps by which white soldiers were reconciled to the employment of colored troops; how these were first employed as laborers; how it was thought they should not be armed or uniformed like white soldiers; how they should only be made to wear a peculiar uniform; how they should be employed to hold forts and arsenals in sickly locations, and not enter the field like other soldiers. "With all these restrictions and limitations he easily made me see that much would be gained when the colored man loomed before the country as a fullfledged United States soldier to fight, flourish or fall in defense of the united republic. The great soul of Lincoln halted only when he came to the point of retaliation. "The thought of hanging men in cold blood, even though the rebels should murder a few of the colored prisoners, was a horror from which he shrank. 'Oh, Douglass! I cannot do that. If I could get hold of the actual murderers of colored prisoners, I would retaliate; but to hang those who have no hand in such murders, I cannot.' "The contemplation of such an act brought to his countenance such an expression of sadness and pity that it made it hard for me to press my point, though I told him it would tend to save rather than destroy life. He, however, insisted that this work of blood, once begun, would be hard to stop-that such violence would beget violence. He argued more like a disciple of Christ than a commander-in-chief of the army and navy of a warlike nation already involved in a terrible war. "How sad and strange the fate of this great and good man, the savior of his country, the embodiment of human charity, whose heart, though strong, was as tender as a heart of childhood; who always tempered justice with mercy; who sought to supplant the sword with counsel of reason, to suppress passion by kindness and moderation; who had a sigh for every human grief and a tear for every human woe, should at last perish by the hand of a desperate assassin, against whom no thought of malice had ever entered his heart!'' LINCOLN AND TAD. Amid the cheering of the men at Chancellorsville, one of the volunteers lustily called out to the President, "Send along more greenbacks." Lincoln was greatly amused by the incident and explained to Tad that the men had not been paid. Tad thought for a |