"Who owns the other half?" asked a gentleman to whom Uncle Abe was speaking. "Henry Wilson of Massachusetts," replied the Chief Magistrate, "Wilson is for me," says the President, "before breakfast; rather against me while his digestion is going on after it; loves me like pie during the hours which he spends visiting the various departments and asking for places and patronage; and bitterly my enemy from seven every evening until he goes to bed, drops asleep and commences snoring. Wilson is carrying water on both shoulders but I guess he'll get a wetting and soil his clothes before he gets through." "Thought he Must be Good for Something." An Illinois man who had known the "boy Mayor," John Hay, from boyhood, was expressing to Uncle Abe, after the massacre at Olustee, some regret that he should have supposed him capable of any military position. "About Hay," said Uncle Abe, "the fact was, I was pretty much like Jim Hawks, out in Illinois, who sold a dog to a hunting neighbor, as a first-rate coon dog. A few days after, the fellow brought him back, saying he 'wasn't worth a cuss for coons.' 'Well,' said Jim, I tried him for everything else, and he wasn't worth a d----n, and so I thought he _must_ be good for coons.'" Aptly Said. To a man who was condoling Uncle Abe on the disaster at Olustee, and suggesting how it might have been prevented, he said: "Your remarks are well intended, doubtless; but they do little less than aggravate a thing which I can't help thinking might have been helped. It reminds me of a story that I read when I was a boy. An old fellow who had clambered rather high into an apple tree, fell and broke his arm. A sympathizing and philosophic neighbor, seeing his mishap, went to his aid. 'Ah,' said he, 'if you had followed my plan you would have escaped this.' 'Indeed, what is your plan?' enquired the groaning man. 'Why, never to let go both hands, till you get one hold somewhere else.'" The would-be Brigadier saw the point, and left. "I see you've got to the sticking point at last," as the Democrat remarked to a slippery Republican, whose team had gone into the ground up to the hub. "They have gone up every Creek and Bayou where it was a little damp." "Linkums" Sold Cheap. Daring the Presidential contest of 1860, there was an Italian artist of plaster figures in Springfield, who supplied "leetel Linkums," as he called his figures, faster than ever Uncle Abe did. He succeeded in putting one of these Republican penates into every Republican house in town, but they finally became a "drug" in the market. However, he kept his "asking price" up; but his selling price was as various as his buyers, and hard to deal with. One day, with a load of these upon his head, he entered a jeweller's shop, and accosted the man behind the counter with-- * "You buys'em leetel Linkums?" "No--don't want'em." "Sells'em cheap," persisted the Italian. "Well, how do you sell to-day?" "Fifty cent piece."