“Why, my good sir,” replied Mr. Lincoln, “If I should attempt to consider every such individual case, I should find work enough for twenty Presidents! In my early days, I knew one Jack Chase, who was a lumberman on the Illinois, and, when steady and sober, the best raftsman on the river. It was quite a trick twenty-five years ago to take the logs over the rapids, but he was skilful with a raft, and always kept her straight in the channel. Finally a steamer was put on, and Jack--he’s dead now, poor fellow!--was made captain of her. He always used to take the wheel going through the rapids. One day, when the boat was plunging and wallowing along the boiling current, and Jack’s utmost vigilance was being exercised to keep her in the narrow channel, a boy pulled his coat-tail and hailed him with: ‘Say, Mister Captain! I wish you would just stop your boat a minute--I’ve lost my apple overboard!’” At a time of financial difficulty, a committee of New York bankers waited upon the Secretary of the Treasury and volunteered a loan to the government, which was gratefully accepted. Mr. Chase subsequently accompanied the gentlemen to the White House and introduced them to the President, saying they had called to have a talk with him about money. “Money,” replied Mr. Lincoln; “I don’t know anything about ‘_money_.’ I never had enough of my own to fret me, and I have no opinion about it any way.” “It is considered rather necessary to the carrying on of a war, however,” returned the Secretary. “Well, I don’t know about that,” rejoined Mr. Lincoln, turning crosswise in his chair, swinging both legs backward and forward. “We don’t read that ‘Hannibal’ had any ‘_money_’ to prosecute his wars with.” The President was one day speaking of a visit he had just received from another delegation of bankers, from New York and Boston, who had been urging the removal of General Cameron from the Cabinet. “They talked very glibly,” said he, “especially a man named G---- from Boston; and I finally told them as much--adding, nevertheless, that I was not convinced. ‘Now,’ said I, ‘gentlemen, if you want General Cameron removed, you have only to bring me _one proved_ case of dishonesty, and I promise you his “head”; but I assure you I am not going to act on what seems to me the most unfounded gossip.’” The Hon. Mr. Hubbard of Connecticut once called upon the President in reference to a newly invented gun, concerning which a committee had been appointed to make a report. The “report” was sent for, and when it came in was found to be of the most voluminous description. Mr. Lincoln glanced at it, and said: “I should want a new lease of life to read this through!” Throwing it down upon the table, he added: “Why can’t a committee of this kind occasionally exhibit a grain of common sense? If I send a man to buy a horse for me, I expect him to tell me his ‘_points_’--not how many _hairs_ there are in his tail.”