Mr. Lincoln once remarked to a fellow-passenger on the old-time mud-wagon coach, on the corduroy road which antedated railroads, that all men were prompted by selfishness in doing good or evil. His fellow-passenger was antagonizing his position when they were passing over a corduroy bridge that spanned a slough. As they crossed this bridge, and the mud-wagon was shaking like a sucker with chills, they espied an old, razor-back sow on the bank of the slough, making a terrible noise because her pigs had got into the slough and were unable to get out and in danger of drowning. As the old coach began to climb the hillside Mr. Lincoln called out: “Driver, can’t you stop just a moment?” The driver replied. “If the other feller don’t object.” The “other feller”--who was no less a personage than, at that time, “Col.” E. D. Baker, the gallant general who gave his life in defense of old glory at Ball’s Bluff--did not “object,” when Mr. Lincoln jumped out, ran back to the slough and began to lift the little pigs out of the mud and water and place them on the bank. When he returned Col. Baker remarked: “Now, Abe, where does selfishness come in in this little episode?” “Why, bless your soul, Ed, that was the very essence of selfishness. I would have had no peace of mind all day had I gone on and left that suffering old sow worrying over those pigs. I did it to get peace of mind, don’t you see?” LINCOLN REMOVES A LICENSE ON THEATRES. One of the most interesting anecdotes about the beloved Lincoln is the one quoted from Joe Jefferson’s autobiography. Jefferson and his father were playing at Springfield during the session of the legislature, and, as there was no theaters in town, had gone to the expense of building one. Hardly had this been done when a religious revival broke out. The church people condemned the theater and prevailed upon the authorities to impose a license which was practically prohibition. “In the midst of our trouble,” says Jefferson, “a young lawyer called on the managers. He had heard of the injustice and offered, if they would place the matter in his hands, to have the license taken off, men then in vogue he remarked how much declaring that he only desired to see fair play, and he would accept no fee whether he failed or succeeded. The young lawyer began his harangue. He handled the subject with tact, skill and humor, tracing the history of the drama from the time when Thespis acted in a cart to the stage of to-day. He illustrated his speech with a number of anecdotes and kept the council in a roar of laughter. His good humor prevailed and the exorbitant tax was taken off. The young lawyer was Lincoln.” HOW LINCOLN GOT THE WORST OF A HORSE TRADE.