The Hon. Orlando Kellogg, of New York, was sitting in his room at his boarding-house one evening, when one of his constituents appeared,--a white-headed old man,--who had come to Washington in great trouble, to seek the aid of his representative in behalf of his son. His story was this: “The young man had formerly been very dissipated. During an absence from home a year or two previous to the war, he enlisted in the regular army, and, after serving six months, deserted. Returning to his father, who knew nothing of this, he reformed his habits, and when the war broke out, entered heart and soul into the object of raising a regiment in his native county, and was subsequently elected one of its officers. He had proved an efficient officer, distinguishing himself particularly on one occasion, in a charge across a bridge, when he was severely wounded,--his colonel being killed by his side. Shortly after this, he came in contact with one of his old companions in the ‘regular’ service, who recognized him, and declared his purpose of informing against him. Overwhelmed with mortification, the young man procured a furlough and returned home, revealing the matter to his father, and declaring his purpose never to submit to an arrest,--‘he would die first.’” In broken tones the old man finished his statement, saying: “Can you do anything for us, Judge?--it is a hard, hard case!” “I will see about that,” replied the representative, putting on his hat; “wait here until I return.” He went immediately to the White House, and fortunately finding Mr. Lincoln alone, they sat down together, and he repeated the old man’s story. The President made no demonstration of particular interest until the Judge reached the description of the charge across the bridge, and the wound received. “Do you say,” he interrupted, “that the young man was wounded?” “Yes,” replied the congressman, “badly.” “Then he has shed his blood for his country,” responded Mr. Lincoln, musingly. “Kellogg,” he continued, brightening up, “isn’t there something in Scripture about the ‘shedding of blood’ being ‘the remission of sins?’” “Guess you are about right there,” replied the Judge. “It is a good ‘point,’ and there is no going behind it,” rejoined the President; and taking up his pen, another “pardon”--this time without “oath,” condition, or reserve--was added to the records of the War Office.