Part 19 (1/2)

PILLS TO PURGE MELANCHOLY.

The Puritanic and cla.s.sically sedate critics blamed the President for finding recreation in reading and hearing comic tales, used to ill.u.s.trate grave texts. He said to a congressman who brought up the censure at a time when the country was profoundly harried:

”Were it not for this occasional vent, I should die!”

”DOWN TO THE RAISINS!”

It was the regular habit of President Lincoln to read the day's telegrams in order in the ”flimsy” triplicates. They were kept in a drawer at the White House telegraph-office. As he handled the papers almost solely, each addition would come to be placed on the last lot of the foregoing day. When this was attained, he would say with a sigh:

”There, I have got down to the raisins!”

It was due to the story, which amused him, of the countryman. This tourist entered a fas.h.i.+onable restaurant, and on viewing the long menu, and concluding that all the dishes were for the customer at the fixed price, manfully called for each in turn. When he arrived at the last line, he sighed in relief, and cried:

”Thanks be! I have got down to the raisins!”

GIANT AND GIANT-KILLER.

As Stephen A. Douglas, from his concentrated force and limited height was nicknamed ”the Little Giant,” his opponent, the elongated Lincoln, was dubbed ”the Giant-Killer.”

LINCOLN'S ”SENTIMENTS” ON A MOOTED POINT.

The President's reply to an autograph fiend who sought his signature, appended to a sentiment, was:

”DEAR MADAM: When you ask a stranger for that which is of interest only to yourself, always enclose a stamp.”

CHESTNUTS UNDER A SYCAMORE.

The President, on his way to the Department of War, perceived a gentleman under a tree, sc.r.a.ping among the heaped leaves with his cane. He knew him, a Major Johnson, of the department, an old District of Columbia man who had never been out of the district.

”Good morning, major!” hailed the executive officer. ”What in the world are you doing there?”

”Looking for a few horse-chestnuts.”

”Eh? Do you expect to find them under a sycamore-tree?” The President laughed freely and pa.s.sed on. He ought to have removed the misguided botanist into the Department of Agriculture, where he might have learned something.