When Uncle Abe joined the Sangamon Militia and entered on the Black Hawk war campaign, his Colonel was a small snipe of a fellow about four feet three inches. Physically, of course, Uncle Abe looked down upon his Colonel. Abe had rather a slouching look and gait at that time, and attracted by his awkward appearance, the dapper little Colonel thus saluted the future Executive and manufacturer of both Colonels and Brigadiers. "Come, Uncle Abe, hold up your head; higher, fellow!" "Yes sir." "Higher, fellow--higher." Abe stretched his lank neck to its greatest altitudinous tension and said, "What--so, Sir?" "Yes, fellow, a little higher." "And am I always to remain so?" "Yes, fellow, certainly!" "Then," said Uncle Abe, with a woeful countenance, "good bye, Colonel, for I shall never see _you again!_" Uncle Abe's Last. Yesterday a Western correspondent, in search for something definite in relation to the fighting now going on, stepped into the White House and asked the President if he had anything authentic from Gen. Grant. The President stated that he had not, as Grant, was like the man that climbed the pole and then pulled the pole up after him.-- _Washington Union, May 16_.