The soldier was then on his way home, and when he got there the first thing he did was to look for the whetstone. And sure enough, there it was, just where Lincoln had laid it fifteen years before. The honest fellow wrote a letter to the Chief Magistrate, telling him that the whetstone had been found, and would never be lost again. LINCOLN’S GRIEF OVER THE DEFEAT OF THE UNION ARMY. We had been talking of the war, and the late Governor Curtin, of Pennsylvania, broke out suddenly and said: “It was just after the battle of Fredericksburg. I had been down there and came up to Washington by the night boat. I arrived at the foot of Seventh street a little after midnight. Just as I landed a messenger met me, saying that the President wanted to see me at once at the White House. I took a carriage and went directly there. I sent in my card, and word came back that the President had retired, but that he requested me to come up to his bedroom. I found him in bed, and as I entered the room he reached out his hand, shook hands, and said: “‘Well, Governor; so you have been down to the battle-field?’ “‘Battle-field? Slaughter-pen! It was a terrible slaughter, Mr. Lincoln.’ I was sorry in a moment, that I had said it, for he groaned, and began to wring his hands and took on with terrible agony of spirits. He sat up on the edge of the bed, and moaned and groaned in anguish. He walked the floor of the room, and uttered exclamations of grief, one after another, and I remember his saying over and over again: ‘What has God put me in this place for?’ I tried to comfort him, and could hardly forgive myself for not being more careful and considerate of his feelings.” THREE STORIES OF LINCOLN BY SENATOR PALMER. “Speaking of Lincoln’s birthday,” said Senator Palmer yesterday, “reminds me that the very last case Lincoln ever tried was one in which I, too, was engaged. It was in Springfield, in June, 1860, after Mr. Lincoln had received the Presidential nomination. Old David Baker, who had been a Senator in the early days, had sued the trustees of Shurtleff College, my alma mater, for expelling his grandson, a lad named Will Gilbert. Mr. Lincoln appeared for the prosecution. I was the college attorney. Mr. Lincoln came into court and the Judge said to him: ‘Mr. Lincoln, I’ll argue this case for you. You have too much on your hands already. You haven’t any case.’ And he explained the law and application. “‘Well,’ said Mr. Lincoln, with a smile, ‘don’t you want to hear a speech from me?’ “‘No,’ said the Judge, and the last case Mr. Lincoln tried he--well, he didn’t try it at all.”