are times of war, and
a great many men deserve killing. This one, according to your story,
is one of them; so give yourself no uneasiness about the matter. I will
stand by you.'

"'That is not why I came to you. I knew I did my duty, and had no fears
of your disapproval of what I did,' replied the officer; and then he
added: 'Why I came to you was, I felt great grief over the unfortunate
affair, and I wanted to talk to you about it.'

"Mr. Lincoln then said, with a smile, placing his hand on the officer'
shoulder: 'You go home now and get some sleep; but let me give you this
piece of advice--hereafter, when you have occasion to strike a man,
don't hit him with your fist; strike him with a club, a crowbar, or with
something that won't kill him.'"

COULD BE ARBITRARY.

Lincoln could be arbitrary when occasion required. This is the letter he
wrote to one of the Department heads:

"You must make a job of it, and provide a place for the bearer of this,
Elias Wampole. Make a job of it with the collector and have it done. You
can do it for me, and you must."

There was no delay in taking action in this matter. Mr. Wampole, or
"Eli," as he was thereafter known, "got there."

A GENERAL BUSTIFICATION.

Many amusing stories are told of President Lincoln and his gloves. At
about the time of his third reception he had on a tight-fitting pair of
white kids, which he had with difficulty got on. He saw approaching in
the distance an old Illinois friend named Simpson, whom he welcomed with
a genuine Sangamon county (Illeenoy) shake, which resulted in bursting
his white kid glove, with an audible sound. Then, raising his brawny
hand up before him, looking at it with an indescribable expression, he
said, while the whole procession was checked, witnessing this scene:

"Well, my old friend, this is a general bustification. You and I were
never intended to wear these things. If they were stronger they might do
well enough to keep out the cold, but they are a failure to shake hands
with between old friends like us. Stand aside, Captain, and I'll see you
shortly."

Simpson stood aside, and after the unwelcome ceremony was terminated he
rejoined his old Illinois friend in familiar intercourse.

MAKING QUARTERMASTERS.

H. C. Whitney wrote in 1866: "I was in Washington in the Indian service
for a few days before August, 1861, and I merely said to President
Lincoln one day: 'Everything is drifting into the war, an