In a corner of his desk he kept a copy of the latest humorous work; and it was his habit when greatly fatigued, annoyed, or depressed, to take this up and read a chapter, frequently with great relief. Among the callers in the course of an evening which I well remember, was a party composed of two senators, a representative, an ex-lieutenant-governor of a western State, and several private citizens. They had business of great importance, involving the necessity of the President’s examination of voluminous documents. He was at this time, from an unusual pressure of office-seekers, in addition to his other cares, literally worn out. Pushing everything aside, he said to one of the party: “Have you seen the ‘Nasby Papers’?” “No, I have not,” was the answer; “who is ‘Nasby?’” “There is a chap out in Ohio,” returned the President, “who has been writing a series of letters in the newspapers over the signature of ‘Petroleum V. Nasby.’ Some one sent me a pamphlet collection of them the other day. I am going to write to ‘Petroleum’ to come down here, and I intend to tell him if he will communicate his talent to me, I will ‘_swap_’ places with him.” Thereupon he arose, went to a drawer in his desk, and, taking out the “Letters,” sat down and read one to the company finding in their enjoyment of it the temporary excitement and relief which another man would have found in a glass of wine. The instant he ceased, the book was thrown aside, his countenance relapsed into its habitual serious expression, and the business before him was entered upon with the utmost earnestness. During the dark days of ’62, the Hon. Mr. Ashley, of Ohio, had occasion to call at the White House early one morning, just after news of a disaster. Mr. Lincoln commenced some trifling narration, to which the impulsive congressman was in no mood to listen. He rose to his feet and said: “Mr. President, I did not come here this morning to hear stories; it is too serious a time.” Instantly the smile faded from Mr. Lincoln’s face. “Ashley,” said he, “sit down! I respect you as an earnest, sincere man. You cannot be more anxious than I have been constantly since the beginning of the war; and I say to you now, that were it not for this occasional _vent_, I should die.” XLVIII. About the first of June I received a call from the Hon. Horace Greeley, who was temporarily in Washington. Very near-sighted, his comments upon my work, then about half completed, were not particularly gratifying. He thought the steel likenesses in his book, “The American Conflict,” were much better. I called his attention, among other points, to a newspaper introduced in the foreground of the picture, “symbolizing,” I said, “the agency of the ‘Press’ in bringing about _Emancipation_;”--stating, at the same time, that this accessory was studied from a copy of the “Tribune.” Upon this his face relaxed;--“I would not object,” said he, “to your putting in my letter to the President on that subject.”