“There is no nonsense about these sardines,” said Mrs. Lincoln, “they are genuine, and came from the Mediterranean.” “Yes,” said Lincoln, “and if you leave them to themselves they will go a great deal farther.”
Where Punch got his Cartoon from.
When Lincoln sent contributions to the Northern army, he wrote to General —— as follows:—“Dear Sir,—Knowing that the army under your charge requires purging, I herewith send you a black draft.”—Yours, Lincoln.
Pun upon Pun.
The facetious president thus wrote to a friend in Scotland:—
“As however, I am somewhat partial to female authors (Scotch or otherwise), don’t forget to remember me to all the blue belles of Scotland, and to as many primroses as you can find. The remembrance may produce a little heart’s ease, and cause their two-lips to bless you.”
Lincoln at the Play.
I had the pleasure on Monday night of seeing “Macbeth” rendered upon the stage of Messrs. Wallack and Devonport, and also of seeing Mr. Lincoln present at the same time. It is Mr. Lincoln’s favourite play, and one could not repress a certain curiosity to know (though he is familiar with them as he is with stump speaking, doubtless) how certain passages would strike him. When the following passage between Malcolm and Macduff was pronounced the audience was suddenly silent as the grave:—
Mal.—Let me seek out some desolate shade,