“I don’t believe him,” said Lincoln, on reading a dispatch from one of his generals; “he is the most notorious liar I ever knew. I have seen him with lies swarming all around him as thick as flies round a horse in autumn.” _Strong Pills._ “Those pills of Brandredth’s,” said Abe, “are very powerful. I knew a man out west who used to blast rocks with them; and, if thrown into the crater of Ætna, they would stop the _bile_” (_boil_). _A Sharp Rejoinder._ “How beautiful,” said a poetical friend of the President’s, who was noted for his disregard for personal cleanliness, “is the face of Nature after a shower.” “Aye,” said Abe, “and your’s would look all the better for a wash!” _Wisdom at a Discount._ “Have you heard,” said Mrs. Lincoln, “that our old friend, Mrs. Cobb, has been prosecuted for bigamy?” “I have,” replied Lincoln, “and am sorry for her, for her crime is that ‘She loved not wisely but _two_ well.’” _Pickles!_ When Atlanta was destroyed a large quantity of pickles were, inadvertently, destroyed. Lincoln said, “It didn’t matter much, as his generals generally contrived to get their men into no end of _pickles_; but had they desired to have retained them they surely ought to have been _preserved_.” _A Conundrum._ “Why,” said the President, “is a Southern Summer like the disunited States of America?” His official friends gave it up. “Why,” said the queerist, “because its cold (_gold_) is very difficult to catch.” _Over Early_ v. _over late._ When it was made known to President Lincoln that Sherman had gained a victory _over_ Early he said that it was a blessing to hear it, “as the victories of the Federal generals were mostly _over late_.” _The Poet and the President._ A poet was in the habit of pestering the President with his books. On one occasion he brought one to the President, who told him to put it into rhyme. He did so, and brought it back. “Ah!” said Abe, “it will do now; it is rhyme, formerly it was neither rhyme nor reason.” _Matrimony._ In a mixed company which the President honored with his presence, the topic of conversation turned on matrimony, when one, as is usual, compared it to Heaven, and another to Hell. On its being referred to the President, he, like a philosopher as he is, said “We had better take a middle course and call it Purgatory.” _Abe and the Picture Dealer._ A New York picture dealer once applied to Abe Lincoln to purchase, at a preposterously high figure, a portrait, which he assured him was the original of Wren, (Sir Christopher) by Hogarth. Abe pretended to scan the picture closely, and then cut the interview short by saying that it was not a portrait of Wren; it looked more like robin (_robbing_). _A Pun._ “You have not enough devil in you, Abe, to succeed in the task you have undertaken,” said a bosom friend of the President’s. “Well, blame my old father,” said the President, “for it was he who left the _l_ (hell) out of Abe--Ab(_l_)e.” _Sojourner Truth._