"The only thing I can do with this, judge, is to put it with my leg cases." "Leg cases!" exclaimed Judge Holt, with a frown at this supposed levity of the President in a case of life and death. "What do you mean by leg cases, sir?" "Do you see those papers stuffed into those pigeonholes?" replied Lincoln. "They are the cases that you call 'cowardice-in-the-face-of-the-enemy,' but I call them 'leg cases' for short; and I will put it to you; I leave it for you to decide for yourself. If Almighty God gives a man a cowardly pair of legs, how can he help their running away with him?" One day an old man came to him with a sad tale of sorrow. His son had been convicted of unpardonable crimes and sentenced to death, but he was an only son, and Lincoln said, kindly,-- "I am sorry I can do nothing for you. Listen to this telegram I received from General Butler yesterday: "'President Lincoln, I pray you not to interfere with the courts-martial of the army. You will destroy all discipline among our soldiers. B. F. BUTLER.'" Lincoln watched the old man's grief for a minute, and then exclaimed, "By jingo! Butler or no Butler, here goes!" Writing a few words he handed the paper to the old man, reading,-- "Job Smith is not to be shot until further orders from me. ABRAHAM LINCOLN." "Why," said the old man, sadly, "I thought it was a pardon. You may order him to be shot next week." "My old friend," replied the President, "I see you are not very well acquainted with me. If your son never dies till orders come from me to shoot him, he will live to be a great deal older than Methuselah." One of the most famous cases of pardon was that of William Scott, a young boy from a Vermont farm, who, after marching forty-eight hours without sleep, volunteered to stand guard duty for a sick comrade in addition to his own. Nature overcame him, he was found asleep at his post within gunshot of the enemy, tried, convicted, and sentenced to be shot. A day or two before the execution Lincoln happened to visit that division of the army, and, learning of the case, asked permission to see the boy. He entered the tent that was used for a prison, talked to him kindly, inquired about his home, his parents, his schoolmates, and particularly about his mother, and how she looked. The boy had her photograph in his pocket and showed it to him, and Lincoln was very much affected. As he was leaving the tent, he put his hands on the lad's shoulders and said, with a trembling voice,-- "My boy, you are not going to be shot to-morrow. I believe you when you tell me that you could not keep awake. I am going to trust you and send you back to the regiment. But I have been put to a great deal of trouble on your account. I have had to come here from Washington when I had a great deal to do. Now, what I want to know is, how are you going to pay my bill?"