IN -THE -BOYHOOD + OF-LINCOLN-I- HEZEKIAH-BUTTERWORTH THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF COMMODORE BYRON MCCANDLESS 7^c THE RESCUE. IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN BY HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH AUTHOR OF THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA Let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith as to the end dare to do our duty. PRESIDENT LINCOLN. NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1892 COPYRIGHT, 1892, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. PEEFACE. BEAHAM LINCOLN has become the typical character of American institutions, and it is the purpose of this book, which is a true picture in a framework of fiction, to show how that character, which so commanded the hearts and the confidence of men, was formed. He who in youth unsel- fishly seeks the good of others, without fear or favor, may be ridiculed, but he makes for himself a character fit to govern others, and one that the people will one day need and honor. The secret of Abraham Lincoln's success was the " faith that right makes might." This principle the book seeks by abun- dant story-telling to illustrate and make clear. In this volume, as in the " Log School-House on the Co- lumbia," the adventures of a pioneer school-master are made to represent the early history of a newly settled country. The " Log School-House on the Columbia" gave a view of the early history of Oregon and Washington. This volume collects many of the Indian romances and cabin tales of the early settlers of Illinois, and pictures the hardships and manly struggles of one who by force of early character made himself the greatest of representative Americans. (iii) 973404 jv IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. The character of the Dunkard, or Tunker, as a wandering school-master, may be new to many readers. Such mission- aries of the forests and prairies have now for the most part disappeared, but they did a useful work among the pioneer settlements on the Ohio and Illinois Kivers. In this case we present him as a disciple of Pestalozzi and a friend of Froebel, and as one who brings the German methods of story-telling into his work. " Was there ever so good an Indian as Umatilla ? " asks an accomplished reviewer of the " Log School-House on the Co- lumbia." The chief whose heroic death in the grave of his son is recorded in that volume did not receive the full measure of credit for his devotion, for he was really buried alive in the grave of his boy. A like question may be asked in regard to the father of Waubeno in this volume. We give the story very much as Black Hawk himself related it. In Drake's History of the Indians we find it related in the following manner : " It is related by Black Hawk, in his Life, that some time before the War of 1812 one of the Indians had killed a French- man at Prairie des Chiens. * The British soon after took him prisoner, and said they would shoot him next day. His family were encamped a short distance below the mouth of the Ouis- consin. He begged permission to go and see them that night, as he was to die the next day. They permitted him to go, after promising to return the next morning by sunrise. He visited his family, which consisted of a wife and six children. I can not describe their meeting and parting to be understood by the whites, as it appears that their feelings are acted upon by certain rules laid down by their preachers ! while ours PREFACE. v are governed only by the monitor within us. He parted from his wife and children, hurried through the prairie to the fort, and arrived in time. The soldiers were ready, and immedi- ately marched out and shot him down ! ' If this were not cold-blooded, deliberate murder on the part of the whites I have no conception of what constitutes that crime. What were the circumstances of the murder we are not informed ; but whatever they may have been, they can not excuse a still greater barbarity." It belongs, like the story of so-called Umatilla in the " Log School-House on the Columbia," to a series of great legends of Indian character which the poet's pen and the artist's brush would do well to perpetuate. The examples of Indians who have valued honor more than life are many, and it is a pleasing duty to picture such scenes of native worth, as true to the spirit of the past. We have in this volume, as in the former book, freely mingled history, tradition, and fiction, but we believe that we have in no case been untrue to the fact and spirit of the times we picture, and we have employed fiction chiefly as a framework to bring what is real more vividly into view. We have employed the interpretive imagination merely for narra- tive purposes. Nearly all that has distinctive worth in the volume is substantially true to history, tradition, and the gen- eral spirit of old times in the Illinois, the Sangamon, and the Chicago ; to the character of the " jolly old pedagogue long ago" ; and to that marvelous man who accepted in youth the lesson of lessons, that " right makes might." 28 WORCESTER STREET, BOSTON, MASS. CONTENTS I. INTRODUCED 1 II. THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES 17 III. THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY-TELLERS. 33 IV. A BOY WITH A HEART 55 V. JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE. HER QUEER STORIES . 62 VI. JASPER GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO BLACK HAWK. AUNT INDIANA'S WIG 75 VII. THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL . . . .87 VIII. THE PARABLE PREACHES IN THE WILDERNESS . . . 100 IX. AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES 108 X. THE INDIAN RUNNER 115 XI. THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO 122 XII. rTHE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO 133 XIII. LAFAYETTE AT KASKASKIA. THE STATELY MINUET . . 140 XIV. WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN 156 XV. THE DEBATING SCHOOL 166 XVI. THE SCHOOL THAT MADE LINCOLN PRESIDENT . . . 177 XVII. THOMAS LINCOLN MOVES 184 XVIII. MAIN-POGUE 196 XIX. THE FOREST COLLEGE 202 XX. MAKING LINCOLN A " SON OF MALTA " 214 XXI. PBAIRIE ISLAND 218 XXII. THE INDIAN PLOT 229 XXIII. FOR LINCOLN'S SAKE 236 XXIV. " OUR LINCOLN is THE MAN " 251 XXV. AT THE LAST 265 (vil) LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PACING PAGE The rescue Frontispiece The Tunker schoolmaster's class in manners 14 Lines written by Lincoln on the leaf of his school-book . . .22 Story-telling at the smithy 35 The home of Abraham Lincoln when in his tenth year . . .55 Aunt Olive's wedding 68 Abraham as a peace-maker 90 Black Hawk tells the story of Waubeno 118 A queer place to write poetry 160 Sarah Bush Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln's step-mother . . . .217 The approach of the mysterious Indian 240 The Lincoln family record 250 Abraham Lincoln, the man 262 IN THE BOYHOOD OF CHAPTER I. INTRODUCED. Y, are there any schools in these parts ? " " Crawford's." " And who, my boy, is Crawford ? " " The schoolmaster, don't yer know ? He's great on thrashing on thrashing and and he knows everything. Everybody in these parts has heard of Crawford. He's great." " That is all very extraordinary. ' Great on thrashing, and knows everything.' Very extraordinary ! Do you raise much wheat in these parts ? " " He don't thrash wheat, mister. Old Dennis and young Dennis do that with their thrashing- flails." " But what does he thrash, my boy what does he thrash ? " " He just thrashes boys, don't you know." " Extraordinary very extraordinary. He thrashes boys." " And teaches 'em their manners. He teaches manners, Crawford does. Didn't you never hear of Crawford? You must be a stranger in these parts." " Yes, 1 am a stranger in Indiana. I have been following U) 2 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. the timber along the creek, and looking out on the prairie islands. This is a beautiful country. Nature has covered it with grasses and flowers, and the bees will swarm here some day ; I see them now ; the air is all bright with them, my boy." " I don't see any bees ; it isn't the time of year for 'em. Do you cobble?" " You don't quite understand me. I was speaking spir- itually. Yes, I cobble to pay my way. Yes, my boy." " Do you preach ? " " Yes, and teach the higher branches like Crawford. He teaches the higher branches, does he not ? " " Don't make any odds where he gets 'em. I didn't know that he used the higher branches. He just cuts a stick any- where, and goes at 'em, he does." " You do not comprehend me, my boy. I teach the higher branches in new schools Latin and singing. I do not use the higher branches of the trees." " Latin ! Then you must be a wizard." " No, no, my boy. I am one of the brethren called. My new name is Jasper. I chose that name because I needed polishing. Do you see? "Well, the Lord is doing his work, polishing me, and I shall shine by and by. * They that turn many to righteousness shall shine like the stars of heaven.' They call me the Parable." " Then you be a Tunker? " " I am one of the wandering Brethren that they call ' Tunkers.' " " You preach for nothin' ? They do." " Yes, my boy ; the "Word is free." INTRODUCED. 3 " Then who pays you ? " " My soul." " And you teach for nothin', too, do ye ? ." " Yes, my boy. Knowledge is free." " Then who pays you ? " " It all comes back to me. He that teaches is taught." " You don't cobble for nothin', do ye ? " " Yes I cobble to pay my way. I am a wayfaring man, wandering to and fro in the wilderness of the world." " You cobble to pay yourself for teachin' and preachin' ! Why don't you make them pay you? I shouldn't think that' you would want to preach and teach and cobble all for nothin', and travel, and travel, and sleep anywhere. Father will be proper glad to see you and mother ; we are glad to see near upon anybody. I suppose that you will hold forth down to Crawford's ; in the log meetin'-'ouse, or in the school- 'ouse, may be, or under the great trees over Nancy Lincoln's grave. Elkins he preached there, and the circuit-rider." " If I follow the timber, I will come to Crawford's, my boy?" "Yes, mister. You'll come to the school-'ouse, and the meetin'-'ouse. The school-'ouse has a low-down roof and a big chimney. Crawford will be right glad to see you, won't he now? They are great on spellin' down there have spellin'- matches, and all the people come from far and near to hear 'em spell hundreds of 'em. Link he's the head speller he could spell down anybody. It is the greatest school in all these here new parts. You will have a right good time down there ; they'll treat ye right well." 4 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. "Good, my boy; you speak kindly. I shall have a good time, if the people have ears." " Ears ! They've all got ears just like other folks. You didn't think that they didn't have any ears, did ye? " " I mean ears for the truth. I must travel on. I am glad that I met you, my lad. Tell your father and mother that old Jasper the Parable has gone by, and that he has a message for them in his heart. God bless you, my boy God bless you ! You are a little rude in your speech, but you mean well." The man went on, following the trail along the great trees of Pigeon Creek, and the boy stood looking after him. The water rippled under the trees, and afar lay the open prairie, like a great sun sea. The air was cool, but the light of spring was in it, and the blue-birds fluted blithely among the budding trees. As he passed along amid these new scenes, a singular figure appeared in the way. It was a woman in a linsey-woolsey dress, corn sun-bonnet, and a huge cane. She looked at the Tunker suspiciously, yet seemed to retard her steps that he might overtake her. " My good woman," said the latter, coming up to her, " I am not sure of my way." Well, I am." " I wish to go to the Pigeon Creek settlement " " Then you ought to have kept the way when you had it." " But, my good woman, I am a stranger in these parts. A boy has directed me, but I feel uncertain. What do you do when you lose your way ? " " I don't lose it." INTRODUCED. 5 " But if you were " " I'd just turn to the right, and keep right straight ahead till I found it." " True, true ; but this is a new country to me. I am one of the Brethren." "Ye be, be ye? I thought you were one of them land agents. One of the Brethren. I'm proper glad. Who were you lookin' for ? " " Crawford's school." " The college ? Am you're goin' there ? I go over there sometimes to see him wallop the boys. We must all have discipline in life, you know, and it is best to begin with the young. Crawford does. They say that Crawford teaches clear to the rule of three, whatever that may be. One added to one is more than one, according to the Scriptur' ; now isn't it ? One added to one is almost three. Is that what they call high mathematics? I never got further than the multiplication- table, though I am a friend to education. My name is Olive Eastman. What's yourn ? " " Jasper." " You don't ? One of the old patriarchs, like. Well, I live this way you go that. 'Tain't more'n half a mile to Craw- ford's close to the meetin'-'ouse. Mebby you'll preach there, and I'll hear ye. Glad I met ye now, and to see who you be. They call me Aunt Olive sometimes, and sometimes Aunt Indiana. I settled Pigeon Creek, or husband and I did. He was kind o* weakly ; he's gone now, and I live all alone. I'd be glad to have you come over and preach at the 'ouse, though I might not believe a word on't. I'm a Methody ; most people 6 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. are Baptist down here, like the Linkuns, but we is all ready to listen to a Tunker. People are only responsible for what they know ; and there are some good people among the Tunkers, I've hern tell. Now don't go off into some by-path into the woods. Tom Lincoln he see a bear there the other day, but he wouldn't 'a' shot it if it had been an elephant with tusks of ivory and gold. Some folks haven't no calculation. The Lincolns hain't. Good-by." The Tunker was a middle-aged man of probably forty-five or more years. He had a benevolent face, large, sympathetic eyes, and a patriarchal beard. His garments had hooks instead of buttons. He carried a leather bag in which were a Bible and a hymn-book, some German works of Zinzendorf, and his cobbling-tools. We can not wonder that the boy stared after him. He would have looked oddly anywhere. My reader may not know who a Tunker was, as our wan- dering schoolmaster was called. A Tunker, or Dunker, was one of a sect of German Baptists or Quakers, who were for- merly very numerous in Pennsylvania and Ohio. The order numbered at one time some thirty thousand souls. They called themselves Brethren, but were commonly known as " Tunkards," or " Dunkards," from a German word mean- ing to dip. At their baptisms they dip the body of a convert three times ; and so in their own land they received the name of Tunkers, or dippers, and this name followed them into Holland and to America. A large number of the Brethren settled in Germantown, Pa. Thence they wandered into Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, preaching and teaching and doing useful work. Like the Quakers, they have now nearly disappeared. INTRODUCED. 7 Their doctrines were peculiar, but their lives were unselfish and pure, and their influence blameless. They believed in being led by the inner light; that the soul was a seat of divine and spiritual authority, and that the Spirit came to them as a direct revelation. They did not eat meat or drink wine. They washed each other's feet after their religious services, wore their beards long, and gave themselves new names that they might not be tempted by any worldly ambi- tions or rivalries. They thought it wrong to take oaths, to hold slaves, or to treat the Indians differently from other men. They would receive no payment for preaching, but held that it was the duty of all men to live by what they earned by their own labor. They traveled wherever they felt moved to go by the inward monitor. They were a peculiar people, but the prairie States owe much that was good to their influence. The new settlers were usually glad to see the old Tunker when he appeared among them, and to receive his message, and women and children felt the loss of this benevolent sympathy when he went away. He established no church, yet all people believed in his sincerity, and most people listened to him with respect and reverence. The sect closely resembled the old Jewish order of the Essenes, except that they did not wear the gar- ment of white, but loose garments without buttons. The scene of the Tunker's journey was in Spencer County, Indiana, near the present town of Gentryville. This county was rapidly being occupied by immigrants, and it was to this new people that Jasper the Parable believed himself to be guided by the monitor within. Early in the afternoon he passed several clearings and 8 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. cabins, where he stopped to receive directions to the school- house and meeting-house. The country was one vast wilderness. For the most part it was covered with gigantic trees, though here and there a rich prairie opened out of the timber. There were oaks gray with centuries, and elms jacketed with moss, in whose high boughs the orioles in summer builded and sang, and under which the bluebells grew. There were black-walnut forests in places, with timber almost as hard as horn. The woods in many places were open, like colonnades, and carpeted with green moss. There were no restrictions of law here, or very few. One might pitch his tent anywhere, and live where he pleased. The land, as a rule, was common. Jasper came at last to a clearing with a rude cabin, near which was a three-faced camp, as a house of poles with one open side was called. Spencer County was near the Kentucky border, and the climate was so warm that a family could live there in a house of poles in comfort for most of the year. As Jasper the Parable came up to the log-house, which had neither hinged doors nor glass windows, a large, rough, good-humored-looking man came out to the gate to meet him, and stood there leaning upon a low gate-post. " Howdy, stranger ? " said the hardy pioneer. " "What brings you to these parts lookin' fer a place to settle down at?" " No, my good friend I'm obliged to you for speaking so kindly to a wayfarer peace be with you I am looking for the school-house. Can you direct me there ? " " I reckon. Then you be going to see the school ? Good for ye. A great school that Crawford keeps. I've got a boy and a INTRODUCED. 9 girl in that there school myself. The boy, if I do say it now, is the smartest fellow in all the country round and the laziest. Smart at the top, but it don't go down. Euns all to larnin'. Just reads and studies about all the time, speaks pieces, and preaches on stumps, and makes poetry, and things. I don't know what will ever become of him. He's a queer one. My name is Linkem " (Lincoln) " Thomas Linkem. What's yourn ? " " They call me Jasper the Parable that is my new name. I'm one of the Brethren. No offense, I hope just one of the Brethren." " Oh, you be a Tunker. "Well, we'll all be proper glad to see you down here. I come from Kentuck. Where did you come from ? " " From Pennsylvania, here. I was born in Germany." " Sho, you did ? From Pennsylvany ! And how far are you going?" " I'm going to meet Black Hawk. My good friend, I stop and preach and teach and cobble along the way." " What ! Black Hawk, the chief ? Is it him you're goin' to see ? You're an Indian agent, perhaps, travelin' for the State or the fur-traders ? " " No, I am not a trader of any kind. I am going to meet Black Hawk at Eock Eiver. He has promised me a young Indian guide, who will show me all these paths and act as an interpreter, and gain for me a passage among all the Indian tribes. I have met Black Hawk before." " You've been to Illinois, have ye ? Glad to hear ye say so. What kind of a kentry is that, now ? I've sometimes thought 10 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. of going there myself. It ain't over-healthy here. Say, stranger, come back and stop with us after you've been to the school. I haven't any great accommodations, as you see, but I will do the best I can for you, and it will make my wife and Abe and the gal proper glad to have a talk with a preacher. Ye will, won't ye, now ? Say yes." " Yes, yes, if it is so ordered, friend. Thank you, yes. I feel moved to say that I will come back. You are very good, my friend." " Yes, yes, come back and see us all. I won't detain ye any longer now. You see that there openin' ? Well, you just fol- low that path as the crow flies, and you'll come to the school-'ouse. Good-day, stranger good-day." It was early spring, a season always beautiful in southern Indiana. The buds were swelling ; the woodpeckers were tap- ping the old trees, and the migrating birds were returning to their old homes in the tree-tops. Jasper went along singing, for his heart was happy, and he felt the cheerful influence of the vernal air. The birds to him were prophets and choirs, and the murmur of the south winds in the trees was a sermon. A right and receptive spirit sees good in everything, and so Jasper sang as he walked along the footpath. The school-house came into view. It was built of round logs, and was scarcely higher than a tall man's head. The chimney was large, and was constructed of poles and clay, and the floor and furniture were made of puncheons, as split logs were called. The windows consisted of rough slats and oiled paper. The door was open, and Jasper came up and stood be- fore it. How strange the new country all seemed to him ! INTRODUCED. H The schoolmaster came to the door. He affected gentle- manly and almost courtly manners, and bowed low. " Is this Mr. Crawford, may I ask ? " said Jasper. " Andrew Crawford. And whom have I the honor of meet- ing?" "My new name is Jasper. I am one of the Brethren. They call me the Parable. I am on my way to Rock Island, Illinois, to meet Black Hawk, the chief, who has promised to assist me with a guide and interpreter for my missionary journeys among the new settlements and the tribes. I have come, may it please you, to visit the school. I am a teacher myself." " You do us great honor, and I assure you that you are very welcome very welcome. Come in." The scholars stared, and presented a very strange appear- ance. The boys were dressed in buckskin breeches and linsey- woolsey shirts, and the girls in homespun gowns of most economical patterns. The furniture seemed all pegs and puncheons. The one cheerful object in the room was the enormous fireplace. The pupils delighted to keep this fed with fuel in the chilly winter days, and the very ashes had cheerful suggestions. It was all ashes now, for the sun was high, and the spring falls warm and early in the forests of southern Indiana. It was past mid afternoon, and the slanting sun was glim- mering in the tops of the gigantic forest-trees seen from the open door. " We have nearly completed the exercises of the day," said Mr. Crawford. " I have yet to hear the spelling-class, and to 12 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. conduct the exercises in manners. I teach manners. Shall I go on in the usual way ? " " Yes, yes, may it please you yes, in the usual way in the usual way. You are very kind." "You do me great honor. The class in spelling," said Mr. Crawford, turning to the school. Five boys and girls stood up, and came to an open space in front of the desk. The recitation of this class was something most odd and amusing to Jasper, and so it would seem to a teacher of to-day. " Incompatibility" said Mr. Crawford. " You may make your manners and spell incompatibility, Sarah." A tall girl with a high forehead and very short dress gave a modest and abashed glance at the wandering visitor, blushed, courtesied very low, and thus began the rhythmic exercise of spelling the word in the old-time way : " I-n, in ; there's your in. C-o-m, com, incom ; there's your incom ; incom. P-a-t, pat, compat, incompat ; there's your in- compat ; incompat. I-, pati, compati, incompati ; there's your incompati ; incompati. B-i-1, bil ; ibil, patibil, compatibil, in- compatibil ; there's your incompatibil ; incompatibil. I-, bili, patibili, compatibili, incompatibili ; there's your incompatibili ; incompatibili. T-y, ty, ity, bility, ibility, patibility, compatibil- ity, incompatibility; there's your incompatibility; incompati- bility^ The girl seemed dazed after this mazy effort. Mr. Craw- ford bowed, and Jasper the Parable looked serene, and re- marked, encouragingly: " Extraordinary ! I never heard a word spelled in that INTRODUCED. 13 way. This is an age of wonders. One meets with strange things everywhere. I should think that that girl would make a teacher one day ; and the new country will soon need teach- ers. The girl did well." " You do me great honor," said Mr. Crawford, bowing like a courtier. " I appreciate it, I assure you ; I appreciate it, and thank you. I have aimed to make my school the best in the country. Your commendation encourages me to hope that I have not failed." But these polite and generous compliments were exchanged a little too soon. The next word that Mr. Crawford gave out from the " Speller " was obliquity. " Jason, make your manners and spell obliquity. Take your hands out of your pockets; that isn't manners. Take your hands out of your pockets and spell obliquity." Jason was a tall lad, in a jean blouse and leather breeches. His hair was tangled and his ankles were bare. He seemed to have a loss of confidence, but he bobbed his head for manners, and began to spell in a very loud voice, that had in it almost the sharpness of defiance. " 0-b, ob; there's your ob; ob." He made a leer. "L-i-k, lik, oblik ; there's your oblik " " No," said Mr. Crawford, with a look of vexation and dis- appointment. " Try again." Jason took a higher key of voice. " Wall, 0-b, ob ; there's your ob ; ain't it ? L-i-c-k, and there's your lick " " Take your seat ! " thundered Mr. Crawford. " I'll give you a lick after school. Think of bringing obliquity upon the 14 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. school in the presence of a teacher from the Old World ! Next ! " But the next pupil became lost in the mazes of the im- proved method of spelling, and the class brought dishonor upon the really conscientious and ambitious teacher. The exercise in manners partly redeemed the disaster. " Abraham Lincoln, stand up." A tall boy arose, and his head almost touched the ceiling. He was dressed in a linsey-woolsey frock, with buckskin breeches which were much too short for him. His ankles were exposed, and his feet were poorly covered. His face was dark and serious. He did not look like one whom an unseen Power had chosen to control one day the destiny of nations, to call a million men to arms, and to emancipate a race. " Abraham Lincoln, you may go out, and come in and be introduced." It required but a few steps to take the young giant out of the door. He presently returned, knocking. " James Sparrow, you may go to the door," said Mr. Craw- ford. The boy arose, went to the door, and bowed very properly. " Good-afternoon, Mr. Lincoln. I am glad to see you. Come in. If it please you, I will present you to my friends." Abraham entered, as in response to this courtly parrot-talk. " Mr. Crawford, may I have the honor of presenting to you my friend Abraham Lincoln ? Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Crawford." Mr. Crawford bowed slowly and condescendingly. Abra- ham was then introduced to each of the members of the school, and the exercise was a very creditable one, under the untoward THE TUNKER SCHOOLMASTER'S CLASS IN MANNERS. INTKODUCED. 15 circumstances. And this shall be our own introduction to one of the heroes of our story, and, following this odd introduction, we will here make our readers somewhat better acquainted with Jasper the Parable. He was born in Thuringia, not far from the Baths of Lie- benstein. His father was a German, but his mother was of English descent, and he had visited England with her in his youth, and so spoke the English language naturally and per- fectly. He had become an advocate of the plans of Pestalozzi, the father of common-school education, in his early life. One of the most intimate friends of his youth was Froebel, after- ward the founder of the kindergarten system of education. With Froebel he had entered the famous regiment of Lutzow ; he had met Korner, and sang the " Wild Hunt of Lutzow," by Von Weber, as it came from the composer's pen, the song which is said to have driven Napoleon over the Ehine. He had mar- ried, lost wife and children, become melancholy and despond- ent, and finally fallen under the influence of the preaching of a Tunker, and had taken the resolution to give up himself entirely, his will and desires, and to live only for others, and to follow the spiritual impression, which he believed to be the Divine will. He was simple and sincere. His friends had treated him ill on his becoming a Tunker, but he forgave them all, and said : " You reject me from your hearts and homes. I will go to the new country, and perhaps I may find there a bet- ter place for us all. If I do, I will return to you and treat you as Joseph treated his brethren. You are oppressed ; you have to bear arms for years. I am left alone in the world. Some- thing calls me over the sea." IQ IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. He lived near Marienthal, the Vale of Mary. It was a lovely place, and his heart loved it and all the old German vil- lages, with their songs and children's festivals, churches, and graves. He bade farewell to Froebel. " I am going to study life," he said, "in the wilderness of the New World." He came to Pennsylvania, and met the Brethren there who had come from Germany, and then traveled with an Indian agent to Rock Island, Illinois, where he had met Black Hawk. Here he resolved to become a traveling teacher, preacher, and mis- sionary, after the usages of his order, and he asked Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide. " Return to me in May," said the chief, " and I will pro- vide you with as noble a son of the forest as ever breathed the air." He returned to Ohio, and was now on his way to visit the old chief again. The country was a wonder to him. Coming from middle Germany and the Rhine lands, everything seemed vast and limitless. The prairies with their bluebells, the prairie islands with their giant trees, the forests that shaded the streams, were all like a legend, a fairy story, a dream. He admired the heroic spirit of the pioneers, and he took the Indians to his heart. In this spirit he began to travel over the unbroken prairies of Indiana and Illinois. CHAPTER II. THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. HE red sun was glimmering through the leafless boughs of the great oaks when Jasper again came to the gate of Thomas Lincoln's log cab- in. Mr. Crawford had remained after school with the tall boy who had brought " obliquity " upon the spelling-class. Tradition reports that there was a great rattling of leather breeches, and expostulations, and la- mentations at such solemn, private interviews. Mr. Crawford, who was "great on thrashing," no doubt did his duty as he understood it at that private session at sundown. Sticks were plenty in those days, and the will to use them strong among most pioneer schoolmasters. Abraham Lincoln and his sister accompanied Jasper to the log-house. They heard the lusty cry for consideration and mercy in the log school-house as they were going, and stopped to listen. Jasper did not approve of this rugged discipline. " I should not treat the boy in that way," said he philo- sophically. "You wouldn't?" said Abraham. "Why? Crawford is a great teacher ; he knows everything. He can cipher as far as the rule of three." (17) 18 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. "Yes, lad, but the true purpose of education is to form character. Fear does not make true worth, but counterfeit character. If education fails to produce real character, it fails utterly. True education is a matter of the soul as much as of the mind. It should make a boy want to do right because it is the right thing to do right. Anything that fails to produce character for its own sake, and not for a selfish reason, is a mistake. But what am I doing criticising? Now, that is wrong. I seemed to be talking with Froebel. Yes, Crawford is a great teacher, all things considered. He does well who does his best. You have a great school. It is not like the old German schools, but you do well." Jasper began a discourse about Pestalozzi and that great thinker's views of universal education. But the words were lost on the air. The views of Pestalozzi were not much dis- cussed in southern Indiana at this time, though the idea of common-school education prevailed everywhere. Thomas Lincoln stood at the gate awaiting the return of Jasper. " I'm proper glad that you've come back to see us all," said he. " Wife has been lookin' for ye. What did you think of the school ? Great, isn't it ? That Crawford is a big man in these parts. They say he can dpher to the rule of three, whatever that may be. Indiana is going to be great on educa- tion, in my opinion." He was right. Indiana, with an investment of some ten million of dollars for public education, and with an army of well-trained teachers, leads the middle West in the excellence of her schools. Her model school system, which to-day would THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. 19 delight a Pestalozzi or a Froebel, had its rude beginning in schools like Crawford's. " Come, come in," said Thomas Lincoln, and led the way into the log-house. " This is my wife," said he to Jasper. The woman had a serene and benevolent face. Her feat- ures were open and plain, but there was heart-life in them. It was a face that could have been molded only by a truly good heart. It was strong, long-suffering, sympathetic, and self- restrained. Her forehead was high and thoughtful, her eyes large and expressive, and her voice loving and cheerful. Jas- per felt at once that he was in the presence of a woman of de- cision of character. " Then you are a Tunker," she said. " I am a Baptist, too, but not your kind. But such things matter little if the heart is right." " You have well said," answered Jasper. " The true life is in the soul. We both belong to the same kingdom, and shall have the same life and drink from the same fountain and eat the same bread. Have you been here long ? " " Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, " and we have seen some dark days. We lived in the half-faced camp out yonder when I first came here. My first wife died of milk-sickness here. She was Abraham's mother. Ever heard of the milk-sickness, as the fever was called ? It swept away a great many of the early inhabitants. Those were dark, dark days. I shall never forget them." " So your real mother is dead," said Jasper to Abraham. " I try to be a mother to him, poor boy," said Mrs. Lincoln. 20 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. "Abraham is good to me and to everybody; one of the best boys I ever knew, though I ought not to praise him to his face. He does the best he can." " Awful lazy. You didn't tell that/' said Thomas Lincoln ; "all head and books. He is. I believe in tellin' the whole truth." " Oh, well," said Mrs. Lincoln, " some persons work with their hands, and some with their heads, and some with their hearts. Abraham's head is always at work he isn't like most other boys. And as far as his heart Well, I do love that boy, and I am his step-mother, too. He's always been so good to me that I love to tell on't. His father, I'm thinkin', is rather hard on him sometimes. Abe's heart knows mine and I know his'n, and I couldn't think more on him if he was my own son. His poor mother sleeps out there under the great trees ; but I mean to be such a mother to him that he will never know no difference." "Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "Abraham does middlin' well, considerin'. But he does provoke me sometimes. He would provoke old Job himself. Why, he will take a book with him into the corn-field, and he reads and reads, and his head gets loose and goes off into the air, and he puts the pumpkin-seeds in the wrong hills, like as not. He is great on the English Eeader. I'd just like for you to hear him recite poetry out of that book. He's great on poetry ; writes it him- self. But that isn't neither here nor there. Come, preacher, we'll have some supper." The Tunker lifted his hand and said grace, after which the family sat down to the table. THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. 21 "We used to eat off a puncheon when we first came to these parts," said Mr. Lincoln. " We had no beds, and we slept on a floor of pounded clay. My new wife brought all of this grand furniture to me. That beereau looks extravagant now don't it ? for poor folks, too. I sometimes think that she ought to sell it. I am told that in a city place it would be worth as much as fifty dollars." There were indeed a few good articles of furniture in the house. The supper consisted of corn-bread of very rough meal, and of bacon, eggs, and coffee. "Do you smoke?" asked Mr. Lincoln, when the meal was over. " No," said Jasper. " I have given up everything of that kind, luxuries, and even my own name. Let us talk about our experiences. There is no news in the world like the news from the soul. A man's inner life and experience are about all that is worth talking about. It is the king that makes the crown." But Thomas Lincoln was not a man of deep inward ex- periences and subjective ideas, though his first wife had been such a person, and would have delighted Jasper. Mr. Lincoln liked best to talk about his family and the country, and was more interested in the slow news that came from the new settlements than in the revelations from a higher world. His former wife, Abraham's mother, had been a mystic, but there was little sentiment in him. " You said that you were going to meet Black Hawk," said Mr. Lincoln. "Where do you expect to find him? He's everywhere, ain't he ? " 00 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. iua " I am going to the Sac village at Rock Island. It is a long journey, but the Voice tells me to go." " That is away across the Illinois, on the Mississippi Eiver, isn't it?" " Yes, the Sac village looks down on the Mississippi. It is a beautiful place. The prairies spread around it like seas. I love to think of it. It commands a noble view. I do not wonder that the Indians love it, and made it the burial-place of their race. I would love it myself. " You favor the Indians, do you? " " Yes. All men are my brothers. The field is the world. 1 am going to try to preach and teach among the Sacs and Foxes, as soon as I can find an interpreter, and Black Hawk has promised me one. He has sent for him to come down to Rock Island and meet me. He lives at Prairie du Chien, far away in the north, I am told." " Don't you have any antipathy against the Indians, preacher ? " " No, none at all. Do you ? " " My father was murdered by an Indian. Let me tell you about it. Not that I want to discourage you you mean well ; but I don't feel altogether as you do about the red-skins, preacher. You and Abe would agree better on the subject than you and I. Abe is tender-hearted takes after his mother." Thomas Lincoln filled his pipe. " Abe," as his oldest boy was called, sat in the fireplace, " the flue," as it was termed. By his side sat John Hanks, who had recently arrived from Kentucky a rough, kindly-looking man. >'n ./Js\ f> 0*00 ff V LINES WRITTEN BY LINCOLN ON THE LEAF OF HIS SCHOOL-BOOK IN HIS FOURTEENTH YP:AR. Preserved by his Step-mother. Original in possession of J. W. Weik. THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. 23 " Wait a minute," said great-hearted Mrs. Lincoln " wait a minute before you begin." " What are you going to do, mother (wife) ? " " I'm just going to set these potatoes to roast before the fire, so we can have a little treat all by ourselves when you have got through your story. There, that is all." The poor woman sat down by the table she had brought the table to her husband on her marriage ; he probably never owned a table and began to knit, saying : " Abraham, you mind the potatoes. Don't let 'em burn." " Yes, mother." "Mother" the word seemed to make her happy. Her face lighted. She sat knitting for an hour, silent and serene, while Thomas Lincoln talked. THOMAS LINCOLN'S STORY. " My father," began the old story-teller, " came to Kentucky from Virginia. His name was Abraham Lincoln. I have always thought that was a good, solid name a worthy name and so I gave it to my boy here, and hope that he will never bring any disgrace upon it. I never can be much in this world ; Abe may. " This was in Daniel Boone's day. On our way to Ken- tucky we began to hear terrible stories of the Indian attacks on the new settlers. In 1780, the year that we emigrated from Virginia, there were many murders of the settlers by the Indians, which were followed by the battle of Lower Blue Licks, in which Boone's son was wounded. " I have heard my mother and the old settlers talk over that 3 24 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. battle. When Daniel Boone found that his son \vas wounded, he tried to carry him away. There was a river near, and he lifted the boy upon his back and hurried toward it. As he came to the river, the boy grew heavy. " ' Father, I believe that I am dying,' said the boy. " ' We will be across the river soon,' said Boone. * Hold on.' " The boy clung to his father's neck with stiffening arms. While they were crossing the river the son died. Oh, it was a sight for pity now, wasn't it, preacher? Boone in the river, with the dead body of his boy on his back. Our country has known few scenes like that. How that father must 'a' felt ! You f urriners little know these things. " The Indians swam after him. He laid down the body of his son on the ground and struck into the forest. " It was in this war that Boone's little daughter was carried away by the Indians. I must tell ye. I love to talk of old times. " She was at play with two other little girls outside of the stockade at Boonesborough, on the Kentucky Eiver. There was a canoe on the bank. " ' Let us take the canoe and go across the river,' said one of the girls, innocent-like. " Well, they got into the boat and paddled across the run- ning river to the opposite side. They reached shallow water, when a party of Indians, who had been watching them, cun- ning-like, stole out of the thick trees 'n' rushed down to the canoe 'n' drew it to the shore. The girls screamed, and their cries were heard at the fort. " Night was falling. Three of the Indians took a little THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. 25 girl apiece, and, looking back to the fort in the sunset, uttered a shriek of defiance, such as would ha' made yer flesh creep, and disappeared in the timber. " That night a party was got together at the fort to pursue the Indians and rescue the children. " "Well, near the close of the next day the party came upon these Indians, some forty miles from the fort. They ap- proached the camp cautiously, coyote-like, V saw that the girls were there. " ' Shoot carefully, now,' said the leader. ' Each man bring down an Indian, or the children will be killed before we can reach them.' " They fired upon the Indians, picking out the three who were nearest the children. Not one of the Indians was hit, but the whole party was terribly frightened, leaped up, 'n' run like deer. The children were rescued unharmed 'n' taken back to the fort. You would think them was pretty hard times, wouldn't ye ? "There was one event that happened at the time about which I have heard the old folks tell, with staring eyes, and I will never forget it. The Indians came one night to at- tack a log-house in which were a man, his wife, and daughter, named Merrill. They did not wish to burn the cabin, but to enter it and make captives of the family; so they cut a hole in the door, with their hatchets, large enough to crawl through one at a time. They wounded Mr. Merrill out- right. " But Mrs. Merrill was a host in herself. Her only weapon was an axe, and there never was fought in Kentucky, or any- 26 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. where else in the world, I'm thinkin', such another battle as that. " The leader of the Indians put his head through the hole in the door and began to crawl into the room, slowly slowly so" Mr. Lincoln put out his great arms, and moved his hands mysteriously. " Well," he continued, " what do you suppose happened ? Mrs. Merrill she dealt that Indian a death-blow on the head with the axe, just like that, and then drew him in slowly, slowly. The Indians without thought that he had crawled in himself, and another Indian followed him slowly, slowly. That Indian received his death-blow on the head, and was pulled in like the first, slowly. Another and another Indian were treated in the same way, until the dark cabin floor pre- sented an awful scene for the morning. " Only one or two were left without. The women felt that they were now the masters in the contest, and stood looking on what they had done. There fell a silence over the place. Still, awful still everywhere. What a silence it was ! The two Indians outside listened. Why were their comrades so still? What had happened ? Why was everything so still ? One of them tried to look through the hole in the door into the dark and bloody room. Then the two attempted to climb down the chimney from the low roof of the cabin, but Mrs. Merrill put her bed into the fireplace and set it on fire. "Such were some of the scenes of my father's few years of life in Kentucky ; and now comes the most dreadful mem- ory of all. Oh, it makes me wild to think o' it! Preacher, THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. ? as I said, my father was killed by the Indians. You did not know that before, did you? No; well, it was so. Abraham Lincoln was shot by the red-skins. I was with him at the time, a little boy then, and I shall never forget that awful morning never, never ! Abraham, mind the potatoes ; you've heard the story ahundred times." Young Abraham Lincoln turned the potatoes and bright- ened the fire. Thomas Lincoln bent over and rested his body on his knees, and held his pipe out in one hand. " Preacher, listen. One morning father looked out of the cabin door, and said to mother : " ' I must go to the field and build a fence to-day. I will let Tommy go with me.' " I was Tommy. I was six years old then. He loved me, and liked to have me with him. It was in the year 1784 I never shall forget the dark days of that year ! never, never. " I had two brothers older than myself, Mordecai and Jo- siah. "We give boys Scriptur' names in those days. They had gone to work in another field near by. " We went to the field where the rails were to be cut and laid, and father began to work. He was a great, noble-looking man, and a true pioneer. I can see him now. I was playing near him, when suddenly there came a shot as it were out of the air. My poor father reeled over and fell down dead. "What must have been his last thoughts of my mother and her five children? I have often thought of that what must have been his last thoughts ? Well, Preacher, you listen. " A band of Indians came leaping out of the bush howling like demons. I fell upon the ground. I can sense the fright 28 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. now. A tall, black Indian, with a face like a wolf, came and stood over me, and was about to seize hold of me. I could hear him breathe. There came a shot from the house, and the Indian dropped down beside me, dead. My brother Mordecai had seen father fall, V ran to the house V fired that shot that saved my life. Josiah had gone to the stockade for help, and he returned soon with armed men, and the Indians disappeared. " Preacher, those were dark days, wasn't they ? Dark, dark days ! You never saw such. They took up my father's body what a sight ! and bore it into the cabin. You should have seen my poor mother then. "What was to help us ? Only the blue heavens were left us then. "What could we do ? My mother and five children alone in the wilderness full of savages ! " Preacher, I have seen dark days ! I have known what it was to be poor and supperless and friendless ; but I never sought revenge on the Indians, though Mordecai did. I'm glad that you're going to preach among them. I couldn't do it, with such memories as mine, perhaps ; but I'm glad you can, V I hope that you will go and do them good. Heaven bless those who seek to do good in this sinful world " " Abraham, are the potatoes done ? " said a gentle voice. " Yes, mother." " Then pass them 'round. Give the preacher one first ; then your father. I do not care for any." The tall boy passed the roasted potatoes around as directed. Jasper ate his potato in silence. The stories of the hardships of this forest family had filled his heart with sympathy, and Thomas Lincoln had acted the stories that he told in such a way as to leave a most vivid impression on his mind. THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. 29 " These stories make you sad," said Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper. " They are heart-rendin', and I sometimes think it is almost wrong to tell them. Do you think it is right to tell a story that awakens hard and rebellious f eelin's ? ' Evil communica- tions corrupt good manners,' the Good Book says. I sometimes wish that folks would tell only stories that are good, and make one the better for hearin' parables like." " My heart feels for you all," said Jasper. " I feel for everybody. This life is all new to me." "Let us have something more cheerful now," said Mrs. Lincoln. " Abraham, recite to the preacher a piece from the English Header." " Which one, mother?" " The Hermit how would that do ? I don't know much about poetry, but Abraham does. He makes it up. It is a queer turn of mind he has. He learns all the poetry that he can find, and makes it up himself out of his own head. He's got poetry in him, though he don't look so. How he ever does it, puzzles me. His mother was poetic like. It is a gift, like grace. Where do you suppose it comes from, and what will he ever do with it ? He ain't like other boys. He's kind o' peculiar some. Come, Abraham, recite to us The Hermit. It is a proper good piece." The tall boy came out of " the flue " and stood before the dying fire. The old leather-covered English Reader, which he said in later life was the best book ever written, lay on the table before him. He did not open it, however. He put his hands behind him and raised his dark face as in a kind of abstraction. lie began to recite slowly in a clear voice, full 30 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. of a peculiar sympathy that gave color to every word. He seemed as though he felt that the experience of the poet was somehow a prophecy of his own life ; and it was. He himself became a skeptical man in religious thought, but returned to the simple faith of his ancestors amid the dark scenes of war. The poem was a beautiful one in form and soul, an old English pastoral, by Beattie. How grand it seemed, even to unpoetic Thomas Lincoln, as it flowed from the lips of his studious son ! THE HERMIT. At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetf ulness prove ; When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove : 'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar, While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began ; No more with himself or with Nature at war, He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man : " Ah, why, all abandoned to darkness and woe, Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall f For spring shall return, and a lover bestow, And sorrow no longer thy bosom inthrall. But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay, Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn ; soothe him whose pleasures like thine pass away : Full quickly they pass but they never return. " Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky, The moon, half extinguished, her crescent displays : But lately I marked when majestic on high She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze. Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue The path that conducts thee to splendor again : But man's faded glory what change shall renew ? Ah, fool ! to exult in a glory so vain ! THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES. 31 " 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more : I mourn ; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you ; For morn is approaching, your charms to restore, Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew. Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn ; Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save : But when shall spring visit the moldering urn? Oh, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave ? " 'Twas thus by the glare of false science betrayed, That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind ; My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade, Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. ' Oh pity, great Father of light,' then I cried, ' Thy creature who fain would not wander from thee ! Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride: From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.' " And darkness and doubt are now flying away ; No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn : So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray, The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending, And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom ! On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending, And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." Mrs. Lincoln used to listen to such recitations as this from the English Readers and Kentucky Orators with delight and wonder. She loved the boy with all her heart. In all the biographies of Lincoln there is hardly a more pathetic incident than one told by Mr. Herndon of his visit to Mrs. Lincoln after the assassination and the national funeral. Mr. Herndon was the law partner of Lincoln for many years, and we give the incident here, out of place as it is. Mrs. Lincoln said to her step-son's friend : " Abe was a poor boy, and I can say what scarcely one 32 IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. woman a mother can say, in a thousand : Abe never gave me a cross word or look, and never refused, in fact or appear- ance, to do anything I requested him. I never gave him a cross word in all my life. . . . His mind and my mind what little I had seemed to run together. . . . He was here after he was elected President." Here she stopped, unable to pro- ceed any further, and after her grateful emotions had spent themselves in tears, she proceeded : " He was dutiful to me always. I think he loved me truly. I had a son, John, who was raised with Abe. Both were good boys ; but I must say, both being now dead, that Abe was the best boy I ever saw or ever expect to see. I wish I had died when my husband died. I did not want Abe to run for President, did not want him elected ; was afraid, somehow felt it in my heart ; and when he came down to see me, after he was elected President, I felt that something would befall him, and that I should see him no more." Equally beautiful was the scene when Lincoln visited this good woman for the last time, just before going to Washington to be inaugurated President. " Abraham," she said, as she stood in her humble back- woods cabin, " something tells me that I shall never see you again." He put his hand around her neck, lifted her face to heaven and said, " Mother ! " CHAPTER III. THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY- TELLERS. JOHNNIE KONG APOD' S INCREDIBLE STORY. HE country store, in most new settlements, is the resort of story-tellers. It was not so here. There was a log blacksmith-shop by the way- side near the Gentryville store, overspread by the cool boughs of pleasant trees, and having a glowing forge and wide-open doors, which was a favorite re- sort of the good-humored people of Spencer County, and here anecdotes and stories used to be told which Abraham Lincoln in his political life made famous. The merry pioneers little thought that their rude stories would ever be told at great po- litical meetings, to generals and statesmen, and help to make clear practical thought to Legislatures, senates, and councils of war. Abraham Lincoln claimed that he obtained his education by learning all that he could of any one who could teach him anything. In all the curious stories told in his hearing in this quaint Indiana smithy, he read some lesson of life. The old blacksmith was a natural story-teller. Young Lin- coln liked to warm himself by the forge in winter and sun him- self in the open door in summer, and tempt this sinewy man to (33) 34: IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. talk. The smithy was a common resort of Thomas Lincoln, and of John and Dennis Hanks, who belonged to the family of Abraham's mother. The schoolmaster must have liked the place, and the traveling ministers tarried long there when they brought their horses to be shod. In fact, the news-stand of that day, the literary club, the lecture platform, the place of amusement, and everything that stirred associated life, found its common center in this rude old smithy by the wayside, amid the running brooks and fanning trees. The stories told here were the curious incidents and advent- ures of pioneer life, rude in fact and rough in language, but having pith and point. Thomas Lincoln, on the afternoon of the next day, said to Jasper : " Come, preacher, let's go over to the smithy. I want ye to see the blacksmith. We all like to see the blacksmith in these parts ; he's an uncommon man." They went to the smithy. Abraham followed them. The forge was low, and the blacksmith was hammering over old nails on the anvil. " Hello ! " said Thomas Lincoln ; " not doin' much to-day. I brought the preacher over to call on you he's a Tunker has been to see the school he teaches himself thought you'd want to know him." " Glad you come. Here, sit down in the leather chair, and make yourself at home. Been long in these new parts ? " " No, my friend ; I have been to Illinois, but I have never been here before. I am glad to see you." " What do you think of the country? " said the blacksmith. STORY-TELLING AT THE SMITHY. THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP. 35 " Think it is a good place to settle in ? Hope that you have come to cast your lot with us. We need a preacher ; we haven't any goodness to spare. You come from foreign parts, I take it. Well, well, there's room for a world of people out here in the woods and prairies. I hope that you will like it, and get your folks to come. We'll do all we can for you. We be men of good will, if we be hard-looking and poor." " My good friend, I believe you. You are great-hearted men, and I like you." " Brainy, too. Let me start up the forge." " Preacher, come here," said Thomas Lincoln. " I haven't had no edication to speak of, but I've invented a new system of book-keepin' that beats the schools. There's one of them there. The blacksmith keeps all of his accounts by it. I've got one on a puncheon at home ; did you notice it ? This is how it is ; you may want to use it yourself. Come and look at it." On a rough board over the forge Thomas Lincoln had drawn a number of straight lines with a coal, as are sometimes put on a blackboard by a singing-master. On the lower bars were several cloudy erasures, and at the end of these bars were initials. " Don't understand it, do you ? Well, now, it is perfectly simple. I taught it to Aunt Olive, and she don't know more than some whole families, though she thinks that she knows more than the whole creation. Seen such people, hain't ye ? Yes. The woods are full of 'em. Well, that ain't neither here nor there. This is how it works : A man comes here to have his horse shod minister, may be ; short, don't pay. Nothin' to pay 36 IS THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. with but funeral sermons, and you can't collect them all the time. "Well, all you have to do is just to draw your finger across one of them lines, and write his initials after it. And when he comes again, rub out another place on the same lines." " And when you have rubbed out all the places you could along that line, how much would you be worth?" said the blacksmith. " I call that a new way of keeping accounts," continued Thomas Lincoln, earnestly. " Did you ever see anything of the kind before ? No. It's a new and original way. We do a great lot o' thinkin' down here in winter-time, when we haven't much else to do. I'm goin' to put one o' them new systems into the mill." The meetings of the pioneers at the blacksmith's shop formed a kind of merry-go-round club. One would tell a story in his own odd way, and another would say, " That reminds me," and tell a similar story that was intended to exceed the first in point of humor. One of Thomas Lincoln's favorite stories was " GL-UK ! " or, as he sometimes termed it "HOW ABRAHAM WENT TO MILL. " It was a mighty curi's happenin'," he would say. " I don't know how to account for it the human mind is a very strange thing. We go to sleep and are lost to the world entirely, and we wake up again. We die, and leave our bodies, and the soul- memory wakes again ; if it have the new life and sense, it wakes again somewhere. We're curi's critters, all on us, and don't know what we are. " When I first came to Indiana I made a mill of my own THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP. 37 Abe and I did. 'Twas just a big stone attached to a heavy pole like a well-sweep, so as to pound heavy, up and down, up and down. You can see it now, though it is all out of gear and kilter. " Then, they built a mill 'way down on the river, and I used to send Abe there on horseback. Took him all day to go and come : used to start early in the mornin', and, as he had to wait his turn at the mill, he didn't use to get back until sundown. Then came Gordon and built his mill almost right here among us a horse-mill with a windlass, all mighty handy : just hitch the horse to a windlass and pole, and he goes round and round, and never gets nowhere, but he grinds the corn and wheat. Something like me : I go round and round, and never seem to get anywhere, but something will come of it, you may depend. " Well, one day I says to Abraham : " ' You must hitch up the horse and go to Gordon's to mill. The meal-tub is low, and there's a storm a-brewin'.' " So Abe hitched up the horse and started. That horse is a mighty steady animal goes around just like a machine ; hasn't any capers nor antics just as sober as a minister. I should have no more thought of his kickin' than I should have thought of the millstones a-hoppin' out of the hopper. 'Twas a mighty curi's affair. " Well, Abe went to Gordon's, and his turn come to grind. He hitched the horse to the pole, and said, as always, ' Get up, you old jade ! ' I always say that, so Abe does. He didn't mean any disrespect to the horse, who always maintained a very respectable-like character up to that day. " The horse went round and round, round and round, just 38 IN THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN. as steady as clock-work, until the grist was nearly out, and the sound of the grindin' was low, when he began to lag, sleepy- like. Abe he run up behind him, and said, ' Get up, you old jade ! ' then puckered up his mouth, so, to say ' Gluck.' "Tis a word I taught him to use. Every one has his own horse-talk. " He waved his stick, and said ' Gl ' "Was the horse bewildered? He never did such a thing before. In an instant, like a thunder-clap when the sun was shinin', he h'isted up his heels and kicked Abraham in the head, and knocked him over on the ground, and then stopped as though to think on what he had done. "The mill-hands ran to Abraham. There the boy lay stretched out on the ground just as though he was dead. They thought he was dead. They got some water, and worked over him a spell. They could see that he breathed, but they thought that every breath would be his last. " ' He's done for this world,' said Gordon. ' He'll never come to his senses again. Thomas Lincoln would be proper sorry.' And so I should have been had Abraham died. Some- times I think like it was the Evil One that possessed that horse. It don't seem to me that he'd 'a' ever ha' kicked Abe of his own self right in the head, too. You can see the scar on him now. " "Well, almost an hour passed, when Abe came to him- self consciousness they call it all at once, in an instant. And what do you think was the first thing he said ? Just this