The ferryman did'nt vote for Uncle Peter but he altered his opinion of Methodist preachers in general and Uncle Peter in particular. A Comparison. One day as Uncle Abe, and a friend were sitting on the House of Representatives steps, the session closed, and the members filed out in a body. Uncle Abe looked after them with a serious smile. "That reminds me," said he, "of a little incident when I was a boy; my flat boat lay up at Alton on the Mississippi, for a day, and I strolled about the town. I saw a large stone building, with massive stone walls, not so handsome though, as this, and while I was looking at it, the iron gateway opened, and a great body of men came out. 'What do you call that?' I asked a bystander. 'That,' said he, 'is the State Prison, and those are all thieves going home. Their time is up.'" "There's Enough for All." Uncle Abe was terribly bored by the office seekers, even before the Presidential house-warming had scarcely began. The Illinois politicians were the most ravenous pap-Suckers of all. "Just wait a little," said Uncle Abe, "I can assure you, as L------d S------t did the swine, 'there's enough for all.'" "Let us have the story, Uncle Abe," said one of the crowd, who evidently expected something rich. "Why, you see," began Uncle Abe, "I attended court many years ago at Mt. Pulaski, the first county seat of Logan County, and there was the jolliest set of rollicking young Lawyers there that you ever saw together. There was Bill F------n, Bill H------n, L------d S------t, and a lot more, and they mixed law and Latin, water and whisky, with equal success. It so fell out that the whisky seemed to be possessed of the very spirit of Jonah. At any rate, S------t went out to the hog-pen, and, leaning over, began to 'throw up Jonah.' The hogs evidently thought it feed time, for they rushed forward and began to squabble over the voided matter. "'Don't fight (hic),' said S------t: 'there's enough (hic) for all.'" --The politicians couldn't see anything to laugh at, although the "snubbin" was plain enough. Making a President. Uncle Abe, in elucidating his estimate of Presidential honors, tells a clever story, as he always does, when he sets about it. It seems that Windy Billy, who is a politician of no ordinary pretensions, was a candidate for the Consulship of Bayonne, and he urged his appointment with the eloquence of a Clay or a Seward. He boasted vociferously of his activity in promoting the success of the Republican ticket, and averred with his impassioned earnestness that he and he alone had made Uncle Abe President. "Ah!" exclaimed Uncle Abe, "and it was you who made me President, was it?" a twinkle in his eye all the time. "Yes," said Billy, rubbing his hands and throwing out his chest, as a baggage-master would a small valise, "yes, I think I may say I am the man who made you President." "Well, Billy, my boy, if that's the case, it's a h--ll of a muss you got me into, that's all."