A paymaster introduced to the President by the United States district marshal, remarked with independence noticeable in the sect: "I have no official business with you, sir--I only called to pay my compliments!" "I understand," was the retort; "and from the soldiers' complaints, I think that is all you gentlemen do pay!" * * * * * BAIL THE POTOMAC WITH A SPOON. There is as pathetic a picture as the old sated Marquis of Queensberry (Thackeray's Steyne and history's "Old Q.") murmuring as he gazed from his castle window on the unsurpassed view of the Thames Valley, "Oh, this cursed river running on all the day!" in President Lincoln watching the broad Potomac where all was so quiet, and yet the hidden and watchful enemy lined the other bank. A petitioner hemmed him in a corner of the room with this sight, and poured on him the bucket of his woes. The at last irritated worm turned on him, and cried: "My poor man! go away! do go away! I cannot meddle in your case. I could as easily bail the Potomac with a teaspoon as attend to all the details of the army!" * * * * * "WE SHALL BEAT THEM, MY SON!" George W. Curtis, New York editor, called on the President in the first winter of the war, with the Illinoisian's friend, Judge Arnold. He said that the official wore a sad, weary, and anxious look, and spoke with a softened, touching voice. But he added to his good-by at the door in shaking hands, with paternal kindness and profound conviction: "We shall beat them, my son! we shall beat them!" * * * * * "LITTLE FOR SO BIG A BUSINESS." Before the war the museums of the Eastern States were regaled by an "Infant Drummer." This lad, Harry W. Stowman, at the age of seven or eight, was a proficient on the drum. He was seen by this editor, executing solos of great difficulty, and accompanying the orchestra with variations on his unpromising instrument, which musicians praised and in which he avoided monotony with precocious talent. Grown up, still a rare drummer, he was attached to the Germantown Hospital as post drummer. At the first inauguration he was with the band and noticed by the President. With his habit of applauding the young, the latter spoke to him, commended his playing, and remarked: "You are a very little man to be in this big business!" He took him up, kissed him, and paternally set him down, drum and all. Mr. Stowman lived to the age of forty with this pretty memory. * * * * * NOT "SHOULDER-STRAPS," BUT HARDTACK. At a military function when Lincoln presented a new commander to a legion, one of the soldiers burst out with that irreverence distinguishing the American volunteer: "It is not shoulder-straps (the officers' insignia), but hardtack that we want!" Hardtack was the nickname for the disused ship bread turned over to the army by remorseless contractors.