"This Robert Lewis, on coming of age, found papers in his father's muniments, entitling him as heir to lands in northeastern Missouri, where the Mormons had attempted settling before their enforced exodus. There was no railroad, so Lewis rode out to that part and thought he had located the land. For the night he stopped at a solitary log house. A gruff voice bade him come in, not very hospitably. The owner was a long, lanky man about eleven feet high, 'Bob' thought. He had a rifle hanging on its hooks over the fireplace, also about eleven feet long, Bob also reckoned. He was interrupted in 'necking' bullets, for they were cast in a mold and left a little protuberance where the run left off. "This first comer had been there some time and seemed to know the section, but was rather indifferent to the stranger's inquiries about the site of _his_ lands. Teased at this unconcern, so opposite to the usual feeling of settlers who like a neighbor in the lonesomeness, Lewis hastened to lay down the law: "'He was looking up the paternal purchase. Here were the titles,' spreading out the papers. 'That is _my_ title to this section. You are on it. What is yours?' "The other had shown some slight interest in the topic by this time. He paused in his occupation and pointed with his long arm to the long rifle, saying: "'Young man, do you see that gun? That is _my_ title, and if you do not git out o' hyar pretty quick, you will feel the force of it!' "Lewis crammed his papers into his saddle-bags and rushed out to bestride his pony--but said that the man snapped his gun at him twice before he was out of range. "Now," resumed Mr. Lincoln, "the military authorities have the same title against the civil ones--the guns! The gentlemen themselves may judge what the result is likely to be!" Mr. Weldon reported to his employers, at Willard's Hotel, and they laughed heartily at the illustration, but they did not proceed with the cotton _speck_, understanding what would be the Administration's policy as well as if a proclamation were issued.--(By Judge Weldon.) * * * * * "CHEERS NOT MILITARY--BUT I LIKE THEM!" After the disarray of the first Bull Run battle, the President drove out to the camps to rally the "boys _in the blues_." General Sherman was only a colonel, and he had the rudeness of a military man to hint to the visitor that he hoped the orator would not speak so as to encourage cheering and confusion. The President stood up in his carriage and prefaced his speech with this exordium: "Don't cheer, boys; I confess that I rather like it, myself; but Colonel Sherman, here, says it isn't military, and I guess we had better defer to his opinion." With his inimitable wink, which would have been an independent fortune to a stage comedian. * * * * * NUMBERING THE HAIRS OF HIS--TAIL!