Old Abe is rather vain of his height, but one day a young man called on him who was certainly three inches taller than the former; he was like the mathematical definition of the straight line--length without breadth. “Really,” said old Abe, “I must look up to you; if you ever get in a deep place you ought to be able to wade out.” That reminds us of the story told of Lincoln, when called from an hotel. He at once obeyed the command of the assembled Yankees, with his wife (somewhat below medium height), and made the following quizzical remarks: “Here I am, and here is Mrs. Lincoln. That’s the _long_ and _short_ of it.” _Tremendous answer._ “How old is that tree, Abe?” said a friend of the now President, when the latter was engaged in the occupation of rail-splitting. “Well, I am not sure; but I am just about to _axe_ him.” _Two instances where the President was not reminded of a story._ The President is often naturally bantered about his habit of story-telling. Dr. Hovey, of Dansville, N.Y., called at the White House, and found the occupant on horseback, ready for a ride. The Dr. approached and said: “Lincoln, I thought I would call and see you before leaving the city, and hear you tell a story.” Lincoln greeted him pleasantly, and asked him where he was from. The reply was: “From Western New York.” “Well, that’s a good enough country without stories,” said the President, and off he rode. _Public Opinion._ Some moral philosopher was telling the old President one day about the undercurrent of public opinion; he went on to explain it at length, and drew an illustration from the Mediterranean Sea. The current seemed very curiously to flow in both from the Black Sea and the Atlantic Ocean; but a shrewd Yankee, by means of a contrivance of floats, had discovered that in the outlet into the Atlantic only about thirty feet of the surface water flowed inward, while there was a tremendous current under that flowing out. “That,” said Mr. Lincoln, much bored, “that don’t remind me of any story I ever heard of.” The philosopher despaired of making a serious impression by his argument, and left. _The President’s Secret._ When the Sherman expedition, which captured Fort Royal, was fitting out, there was great curiosity to learn where it had gone. A person, visiting the chief magistrate at the White House, importuned him very much to disclose the destination to him. “Will you keep it entirely secret?” asked the President. “Oh, yes, upon my honour.” “Well,” said the President, “I’ll tell you.” Assuming an air of great mystery, and drawing the man close to him, he kept him a moment awaiting title revelation with an open mouth and great anxiety. “Well,” said he, in a loud whisper, which was heard all over the room, “the expedition has gone to--sea!” _About the Negro Question._ The story will be remembered, perhaps, of Mr. Lincoln’s reply to a Springfield (Ill.) clergyman, who asked him what was to be his policy on the slavery question.