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THE BOYHOOD OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
I
The old Stone House where Abe and Austin often stopped
on their way to and from the Hodgen Mill
THE BOYHOOD OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
By
J. ROGERS GORE .'
FROM THE SPOKEN NARRATIVES OF
AUSTIN GOLLAHER
"^ Illustrated from Photographs
INDIANAPOLIS
THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
COPYHIOHT 1921
The BoEES-MEaniLi, Company
£4-5 7
Printed in the United States of Amsriea
PRESS OF
BRAUNWORTH & CO-
BOOK MANUFACTURERS
BROOKLVN, N. Y.
APR 18 1921^
S)CI,A611660 ^
PREFACE
The following stories about the boy Abra-
ham Lincoln were given to me at intervals,
during a period of four or five years, by
Austin Gollaher, who spent all his life
among the hills of LaRue County, Ken-
tucky, having been born in that county in
the year 1806, and having died there on Feb-
ruary 22, 1898.
Twenty-five years ago, when I was on
The LaRue County Herald^ a weekly news-
paper published at Hodgenville, Kentucky,
the town of my birth and upbringing, I
foimd much pleasure in visiting the home
of Mr. Gollaher, and drawing from him
these tales of the days when he and Lin-
coln, children of the wilderness, played in
the woods, and along Knob Creek, upon
the banks of which the boy Austin Gollaher
lived when the Lincolns moved from Cave
Spring Farm to the Knob Creek hills.
Mr. Gollaher was unschooled, but he pos-
PREFACE
sessed a keen intellect, and talked interest-
ingly and intelligently of his and Lincoln's
childliood in LaRue County. In answer to
my questions Mr. Gollaher, little by little,
related the narratives quite free from inten-
tional embellishment, I feel sure.
In following these pages, however, the
reader is asked to bear in mind that they are
leaves from the loving memory of an old
man. Abraham Lincoln was, in the recollec-
tion of Austin Gollaher, the great event ; he
was at once playmate and prophet, the day's
companion and the man for the ages. JNIr.
Gollaher saw the boy through the splendor
of the man's later years, and while he sought
a scrupulous truth to fact — for he ever made
probity his watchword — it would have been
extraordinary, if not impossible, for his nar-
ration of early youth to escape the coloring
and the glamour of an imperishable name.
It is undoubtedly true that no one, except
the writer, preserved the data from which
this series of stories has been written. I did
so because they were of great personal in-
PREFACE
terest to me, and not with any thought at the
time of oiFering them to the pubHc. But
since every word about Lincoln has become
precious I feel it my duty and my pleasure
to give to the world these simple stories, sim-
ply told, of the great American's birth, in-
fancy and childhood. They can hardly fail
to interest all who love his memory and the
many who know but little of these young
years in LaRue County.
Mr. Gollaher contended that some of the
historians were in error in saying that
Thomas Lincoln and his family moved to
Indiana in the fall of 1816; he said the Lin-
*3olns did not leave Kentucky until a year
later, as recorded in Mrs. Gollaher's diary,
or as he called it, "Mother's book of things" ;
that he and his father went with the Lin-
colns to Middle Creek, a small stream, now
the dividing line between Hardin and La-
Rue Counties, to help with a cow which was
a little unruly, and that the journey was be-
gun one bright morning in November, 1817.
Mr. Gollaher associated Lincoln with
PREFACE
practically all of his memories of pioneer
days in the Knob Creek hills. The essentials
of the stories are presented as he gave them
to me. In retelling them I believed it per-
missible to go back more than one hundred
years into the homes of the pioneers — to visit
among them — to be with the Lincolns, the
GoUahers, the Hodgens and others — to go
with Abe and Austin into the hills, to watch
them at their play, to listen to and record
their conversations. I have, therefore,
dramatized Mr. Gollaher's reminiscences in
order to reconstruct with more realism the
life of the period, and have allowed Abe and
Austin, their friends and neighbors to talk
in character and so, naturally, reveal in
anecdote and experience the early life of the
boy who was to become one of the world's
greatest figures.
J. R. G.
Hodgenville, Kentucky.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I Austin Gollaher ....... 13
II Looking Backward 20
III The Deliverance 26
IV Great Rejoicing 36
V A Wonderful Child 41
VI The Binding Tie 44
VII A New Home 51
VIII The Miraculous Escape 58
IX New Friends 68
X The Hodgens 11
XI Thirst for Learning 83
XII The Parson and the Coonskin Cap . 96
XIII Abraham and the Church .... 107
XIV A Friendly Contest 118
XV A Good Time Up There 126
XVI The Nickname 132
XVII The Explorers 140
XVIII The Fox and the Trap 149
XIX The Goat and the Coat 155
XX The Rescue 165
XXI Honey's Old Master 173
XXII Robinson Crusoe 181
XXIII Sarah's Swing 195
XXIV Steaung Time 200
XXV Austin and the Coon 208
XXVI Just Turned Around 213
XXVII The Ghost 219
XXVIII The Distress Signal 223
CONTENTS— Con<tnM«d
CHAPTER PAGE
XXIX The King's Little Boy 234
XXX Two Prayers Just Alike 241
XXXI Tell the Truth 248
XXXII The Right to Fight 254
XXXIII Abe's Dream 260
XXXIV Off the Sheep's Back 265
XXXV The Human Tree 269
XXXVI Where Is Indian Anner 277
XXXVII A Fight and a Stranger 284
XXXVIII For the Best 290
XXXIX The Last of Billy 296
XL The End of Playtime 303
XLI The Parting of the Ways .... 312
THE BOYHOOD OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
THE BOYHOOD OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
CHAPTER I
AUSTIN" GOLLAHER
*'GoD has been mighty good to me all of
these years," said Mr. Gollaher. "He has
given me strength and health, and enough
sense to keep me always in the straight
and narrow path. In the closing days of
my life I am happy ; my children are kind
to me, and so are my friends and neigh-
bors, and I have lots to be thankful for.
Why I" he said seriously, "even now my
eyesight is pretty good and I can read
my Bible and teach my Sunday-school
class."
For thirty years he was a deacon in a
13
14 THE BOYHOOD OE LINCOLN
little Baptist church which nestled among
the hills near his home. There he preached
and sang and taught until the weight of
time weakened his strong body and forced
him to the seclusion of his cabin home.
Mr. Gollaher loved children, and was
always pleased when he could visit a
schoolhouse and tell some of his favorite
stories of **Abe.'^ He was a good talker
and, while his language was not entirely
free of grammatical errors, what he said
was always sensible and entertaining, and
his advice to boys and girls always whole-
some. The children returned his love,
and would often cling to him, pat his
ruddy cheeks and beg him to tell more
stories from the Bible, or about his boy
friend, *'Abe."
Mr. Gollaher was a stalwart man, and
even in his old age was strong and ath-
letic. He was six feet high, broad-shoul-
dered and full of untiring energy. He
greeted stranger and friend with a cordial
hand-shake and never failed to say: **I
AUSTIN GOLLAHER 15
hope your health and the health of your
family is good. ' ^ Particularly did he ask
after the health of the people of the neigh-
borhood. If he found illness anywhere he
would lose little time in going to the bed-
side of the afflicted. He knew something
of medicine and was glad when he could
contribute to the comforts of the
suffering.
He was a leader in his community and
there was none who disliked him. As he
rode his mule through the hills, he would
often break into song, the folks along the
way joining with him. He used to say he
had the biggest band of singers in the
world, that even the birds belonged to his
choir.
Mr. Gollaher was without personal am-
bition, but was always eager to assist in
any project for the upbuilding of the
neighborhood. He was one of the leading
spirits and speakers in meetings called
for the advancement of pioneer interests.
In his younger days he was a fighter, al-
16 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
though not quarrelsome, but after he was
twenty-five he settled into peaceful ways
and would say, laughingly, that all the
fights of his youth could have been
avoided. He found more pleasure in fell-
ing trees to build cabins than he would
have found in laying corner-stones for
mansions — more satisfying pleasure in
the hunt than he would have found in
business or politics.
'*I regret that I neglected to well edu-
cate myself," he said. "Abe always tried
to get me to learn from the books, but I
couldn't at that time see the need of it.
Why, do you know," he exclaimed, **that
had I been well educated I would have
been Abe's law partner? And then, when
he became president, he would have ap-
pointed me to a judgeship. I learned to
read and write and figure pretty well, be-
cause Abe begged me to, and I have been
glad of it always, because I was able to
read of the greatness of my boyhood
companion.
AUSTIN GOLLAHER 17
^'Tlie fact is," continued Mr. Gollaher,
*'I studied hard for a while, and learned
fast, but I didn't keep at it; there were
too many attractions in the hills, and I
would neglect my studies any time to go
hunting. In those days I believed a coon-
skin more valuable than a book, and every
time my dog barked, I went to the woods.
I spent lots of my time in taking coons
from the hollow trees. But notwithstand-
ing I wliiled away a great many hours
loafing with my dog I was better educated
than most of the folks in our community ;
in fact, I was considered such a smart fel-
low that they put me to teaching school
when I was not much more than a young-
ster. I taught over there where the
Wilkins post-office now stands, and was
fairly successful, though largely because
Mrs. Sarah Hodgen helped me with many
little things I did not understand. I
taught two terms, and then went back to
the woods with my dog and my gun."
While no record of it can be found, it is
18 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
said that at one time Mr. Gollaher was a
justice of the peace in LaRue County, and
I remember that some of the people in his
neighborhood called him *' Judge," a title
he did not like. *'The office is small," he
would say, "and the title is big, and the
misfit is bad. It reminds me of a small
girl diked out in her mother's dress."
On one occasion he was trying two
young boys for disturbing public worship.
The evidence showed that the culprits had
thrown rocks against the church house
during service. Mr. Gollaher heard the
testimony, and was preparing to render
his decision when the mother of one of the
boys arose and addressed the court,
saying :
''Jedge, ef you'll let the boys go this
time we will give them a good whuppin'. "
*'I can't do that," replied Mr. Golla-
her; *^I must sentence these youngsters."
And he commanded the boys and their
mothers to stand up. **The offense is a
serious one," he said, "one for which no
AUSTIN GOLLAHER 19
excuse can be offered, except that these
boys have not been properly brought up,
that they have had no religious training.
I therefore sentence the prisoners at the
bar, together with their mothers, to six
months "
He paused and both women began to
weep, pleading :
**Fer Gawd's sake don't do that, Jedge
Gollaher!"
''Order in the court!" commanded the
judge. ''As I was saying, I now sentence
the prisoners and their mothers to six
months' attendance at all services in the
church during that period. They will oc-
cupy the bench directly in front of the
pulpit — the Mourners' Bench — w here
they will give strict attention to the teach-
ing of the Bible."
CHAPTER II
LOOKING BACKWAED
When Mr. Gollaher talked of ''Abe''
he glowed with enthusiasm. He believed
implicitly that God gave Lincoln to the
world, and watched over him and guided
him that He might use him as an instru-
ment to do a great work. He recalled in-
stances in the child life of Lincoln that he
believed miraculous — things which could
not have occurred had not God's guiding
hand been present.
He said Abe was smarter than many of
the older people and that he was always
doing or saying something that astonished
them ; that his solemn wit was refreshing
to those who understood it, his philosophy
and wisdom frequently beyond belief.
20
LOOKING BACKWARD 21
**Big," he said, raising his hands above
his head, ''is not the right word to de-
scribe Abe either in mind or body. I'll
tell you that boy towered ! He was nearly
a head taller than I, yet I was three
years older; and when it came to being
smart he was way yonder ahead of me.
God did it ; God made him big in body and
mind so that he could work hard and
never tire — so that he would not give up
until the job was finished."
In describing Abe's appearance, Mr.
GoUaher said: ''His legs were long, his
anns were long, his ears were long and
his head was long. He was the longest
boy in the world. He could walk farther,
throw farther and hear farther than any
other boy. His eyes were as mild as the
moon, but 'pon my word, he could see
through these hills here," and he waved
his hand toward a chain of hills that al-
most circled his home.
"But I felt mighty hard toward Abe
once upon a time, just for a little while,"
22 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
said Mr. Gollaher, a smile playing upon
his tobacco-stained lips. ''You see, I
never heard a word from him until after
he was elected president, and I thought he
had entirely forgotten me — I thought
maybe he thought I was too common for
him to remember after he became so great.
But I was mistaken, and I now believe
Abe thought of me often, and loved me
just like he did when we were inseparable
playmates upon the hills and in the hol-
lows along Knob Creek.
**One time," he continued, ''when Doc-
tor Jesse Rodman, who lived and died at
Hodgenville, was in Washington, he saw
Abe, and Abe asked all about me, and sent
word to me that he would pay my ex-
penses if I would come to Washington to
see him. But I didn't go, because I was
always afraid to ride on a train of cars.
Abe also told Doctor Rodman that shortly
after he moved to Indiana he learned how
to read and write pretty well; that he
wrote two letters to me and gave them to
LOOKING BACKWARD 23
passers-by coming this way, and asked
that they hand them along to others until
they should finally reach me. But I never
got them. Abe wrote another letter to me
from somewhere in Illinois, but I didn't
get that either. He told Doctor Rodman
that he thought maybe I had died, or that
we had all moved away. Why," the old
man said seriously, "I'd give this whole
farm for those letters right now.
"Abe talked a long time to Doctor Rod-
man," continued Mr. Gollaher, "and they
ate dinner together there in the White
House. He asked all about me, and told
the doctor about the time I pulled him out
of Knob Creek with a fishing pole and
saved him from drowning, and also about
his billy-goat that stuck a stob in its belly
and was killed. He spoke freely of every-
body he used to know here, and tears came
into his eyes. Doctor Rodman said, as he
recalled old Mrs. Sarah Hodgen, the
widow of Robert, the owner of the old
Hodgen Mill over there at Hodgenville.
24 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
She and two of her sons, John and Isaac,
were among the best friends Abe ever had
in the world. As between the Hodgen
boys Abe loved John the most, because
John ran the mill, where Abe used to play.
John Hodgen thought Abe was a wonder-
ful youngster, and he did lots of nice
things for him.
^^Abe also asked about my father and
mother and many friends who had passed
to the other world. He loved my father
and mother because they were always
good to him. Lots and lots of times
mother used to hug both Abe and me to
her breast and tell us Bible stories.
**He told Doctor Rodman that he had
known few sadder days than the day when
he said good-by to me and crossed Middle
Creek on his way with his parents to Indi-
ana. He said he was coming over here
some of these days to see what was left of
us ; but he never came. I reckon it would
have made him feel bad to have seen how
things have changed — to have seen the
LOOKING BACKWARD 25
graves of the people who were so good to
him when he was a boy. Abe was always
sad, anyhow, and seemed like he was wor-
ried about something; every day of his
child and boy life here he seemed that
way, and I guess he never outgrew it.
**The story of the birth of Abe, as I
heard it from my mother and father, im-
pressed me so much," said Mr. Gollaher,
"that I have dreaded winter ever since.
To this day, when I hear cold winds howl-
ing my mind goes back to that terrible
blizzard on the morning of February 12,
1809, and I see old Mr. Isom Enlow over
there near the Cave Spring Farm, stum-
bling and falling as he plows through the
snow — lost in the gray woods, in the blind-
ing storm. And then I see him as he falls
over the cliff and struggles up the hill to
the Lincoln cabin, where he found Mrs.
Lincoln and little Sarah and the baby,
Abe, half starved and almost frozen.
CHAPTER III
THE DELIVERANCE
The winter of 1809 was a severe one. It
came a little late, but it came suddenly,
with its blighting winds, its ice and snow
and low-hanging clouds, and it dealt deso-
lation to field and forest in Kentucky.
Those pioneers who lazily lounged in the
sunshine of November and December,
failing to prepare for the winter, were
hopelessly caught in the grip of that
mighty blizzard. Cattle and game which
did not find shelter were driven to the
slaughter-pens of the storm. Even the
well-to-do suffered unusual inconve-
niences and hardships, and there was much
sickness and many deaths among the fam-
ilies of the pioneers in the remoter wilds.
26
THE DELIVERANCE 27
The cold came in January and con-
tinued through February, with only brief
intervals of mild weather. On February
11, 1809, Isom Enlow, a brawny and well-
to-do backwoodsman, taking advantage of
a likely morning — a lull in the storm —
went to visit a neighbor who lived six or
seven miles from the Enlow home in the
South Fork River section of LaRue
County. Early in the afternoon, while
Mr. Enlow was yet in the home of his
neighbor, the blizzard renewed its attack,
continuing bitterly into the night, so that
he found it necessary to remain until the
morning of the twelfth, as neither man
nor beast could withstand the onslaught
of the storm. But on the morning he set
out afoot, in spite of protests, for he was
anxious to quiet the fears of his family
who had expected him the day before.
He threw his strong body against the
wind and trudged along, fighting his way
inch by inch over a trail deeply hidden
and treacherous.
28 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
The storm, after a brief lull, was soon
again at its height, the stiff wind blowing
the dry snow from the hills, filling the
hollows and drifting deep along the fields.
Mr. Enlow traveled as one under a mighty
load ; his finger-tips frozen, his feet clum-
sily numb. Lashed by the wind and snow,
his eyes were burned and his sight was so
dimmed that the big trees were as dancing
shadows; confusion was rioting in his
brain, and his strong heart was perilously
weak. He must find shelter quickly or
perish. His strength was waning rapidly,
and he felt that numbness creeping into
his body which frequently produces indif-
ference— the indifference that causes one
to lie down, smiling, into the arms of
death.
But to such a man there was no thought
of surrender; he was a born fighter; his
was the red blood of the frontiersman. It
might have been easier, even more pleas-
ant, to have given up the fight and died,
but the predominating desire In his heart
THE DELIVERANCE 29
was to outwit the storm and to escape the
chagrin of defeat. There were friendly
cliffs and caves in the neighborhood, but
in the storm's wild confusion the half-
conscious man could not locate them. Yet
he knew that he must find a refuge where
he could rest for a few moments or he
would lose the battle. At last he crawled
under a heavy clump of bushes, roofed
with snow and ice.
There, not more than two miles from
the home of the friend whose hearthstone
he had left an hour before, the pioneer
was lost in a neighborhood where, under
ordinary conditions, he would have
known well every foot of soil, where even
the trees would have served him as guide-
posts. But there was no fright in the
stout heart of Isom Enlow. He peered
through the lattice of ice, hoping to find
a familiar landmark that would enable
him to get his bearings and to resume his
journey. But his beclouded eyes saw
nothing save the whirling mists. He
30 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
rubbed his limbs and beat himself with his
big frozen hands to warm his blood — to
make ready for another round with the
storm — then, pulling himself to his feet,
he moved slowly on among the snowclad
trees.
Somewhere in that vicinity, Thomas
Lincoln had built a cabin upon a hill — a
one-room cabin of small logs. Isom En-
low had helped to build it, but now every-
thing was strange to him. He traveled as
one in a dense fog. Those great sheets of
snow were waving around him and above
him. Suddenly, without warning, the
stalwart woodsman plunged down a preci-
pice ten feet high and rolled to the snow-
covered rocks below. Stunned and bewil-
dered, he clamored to his feet. Then
smiled hopefully, for he had fallen over
the cliff sheltering the cave-spring at the
foot of the steep hill upon which Thomas
Lincoln had built his cabin.
With renewed energy, Mr. Enlow scram-
bled up the hill and pushed his way, unin-
THE DELIVERANCE 31
vited, into the cabin. It was miserably
desolate and cold. He staggered to the
fireplace to find only a few smoldering
coals buried in the ashes. There came a
faint cry from the corner of the room.
Upon a bedstead, made of saplings on
which was a tick of straw, lay a woman
and a little girl, both too weak from cold
and hunger and illness to speak except in
the faintest whisperings.
''Oh, I am so ill, and I am afraid my
baby is dead," the woman said in a sob-
bing whimper. ' ' Won 't you do something
for us?" she begged.
Rubbing his eyes and drawing closer to
the bed, Mr. Enlow saw the little girl;
then he said, *'Mrs. Lincoln, this is Isom
Enlow; don't you recognize me? The lit-
tle girl is alive and will soon be all right. ' '
''Not the little girl, Mr. Enlow," an-
swered the faint quivering voice; "I have
a baby, a boy, born early this morning.
Oh, Mr. Enlow, do something for him,"
she pleaded.
32 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
The backwoodsman raised the scant
covering and there lay an infant, blue
from cold, with nothing over it but the
light bed-clothes. The little drawn face
had upon it the imprint of death, and Mr.
Enlow believed he had come too late.
There was not a piece of wood in the
cabin, nothing with which to rekindle the
fire. Hurriedly he seized an ax and went
again into the storm. Beating the snow
and ice from limbs and twigs, he broke
them into pieces, and then, realizing how
precious the moments were, he ran back
into the cabin with barely enough kin-
dling to restart the fast dying embers. Out
and back he went again and again until
the fire finally leaped high and bright in
the stick-chimney. Then Mr. Enlow
warmed the bed-clothing and wrapped it
about the mother and her baby.
He rubbed them gently with his rough
hands and soothed Mrs. Lincoln with
promises that he would soon make them
more comfortable. Continuing to apply
THE DELIVERANCE 33
the warm covering, the backwoodsman
soon was rewarded with a faint whimper
from the infant and a glance of gratitude
from the mother. Enlow searched every-
where in the cabin for a morsel of food,
but the rough shelves were as bare as the
walls. He thought of game in the fields
and woods, but everything had sought
shelter, and besides it would be sheer folly
to go out into the storm again.
But something must be done to get food
for the mother and her children. He re-
membered that in his pocket was a small
earthen jar of wild turkey grease which
he used to clean the rifles of his gun. In
that grease there was nourishment, per-
haps ; at least he must try it in this dire
emergency. Adding some boiling water,
Mr. Enlow made what he called soup, and
after much persuasion Mrs. Lincoln
sipped some of the unpleasant concoction.
Then he dipped a string into the melted
grease and put one end of it into the
mouth of the infant.
34 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
Never did physician watch more closely
at the bedside of his patient than did Isom
Enlow watch for sign of life on that win-
try twelfth of February in the year 1809.
The little girl, Sarah Lincoln, sipped
the hot greasy water, and insisted in her
childish way that her mother drink more
of the bitter stuff. When Isom Enlow^
took the cup from the hand of the little
girl and said to Mrs. Lincoln ^' Drink,"
she obeyed him mechanically and without
thought of herself. Her heart and her
hope were in the baby — the boy — that
*'long, eel-like string of famished flesh,"
as Austin Gollaher put it, lying there by
her side upon the tick of straw. Almost
too weak to turn her throbbing head, she
watched for further signs of life in the in-
fant and when she saw its purple lips
tighten upon the grease-soaked string,
happy tears came into her eyes and she
said, *'The child will live."
The improvement in the baby was as
tonic to Mrs. Lincoln ; she immediately be-
THE DELIVERANCE 35
came brighter and stronger, ready to wage
the winning fight — that fight which gave
to America its great conmioner — the em-
bodiment of the promise that all are cre-
ated equal and that there shall be neither
master nor bond-servant.
But food must be found somewhere;
the mother and her children must have
nourishment. So Enlow told Mrs. Lin-
coln he was going to the nearest neigh-
bor's, and that he would return during the
day with food and help. Then with a word
of cheer, and a wave of the hand, he
stooped through the low door of the cabin
out into the woods again to face the storm.
CHAPTER IV
GREAT REJOICING
The storm liad abated somewhat, but
the skies were still oppressively gray and
the wind still strong enougli to break the
weakest twigs and limbs and scatter them
over the fields and through the forests.
Isom Enlow stood upon the high hill in
front of the cabin, his heavy coat of skins
pulled tightly about him. He was unde-
cided. Should he go to Gabriel Kirkpat-
rick's, two miles to the west, or to the
home • of Jimmie McDougal, a good two
and a half miles to the south, or his own
home some four miles to the east ? Believ-
ing it his duty to let his family know that
he had safely escaped the blizzard, he
turned his face eastward.
GREAT REJOICING 37
His steps were slow, but there was de-
termination in his heart and soul. His
mission was one of love and charity —
those two beautiful qualities so deeply
rooted in pioneer hearts — and if success-
ful three lives would be saved. If unsuc-
cessful, if he should perish out there in
the woods, it would mean But at the
thought his muscles grew tense, his head
lifted, determination blazed on his red
rough face, and he trudged forth along
the pathless waste.
He had not gone far when his keen ears,
deeply hidden beneath the cape-like collar
of his fur coat, caught the faint sound of
crunching snow. His grip tightened on
his rifle and he stood at attention behind
a tree, ready to send a bullet through the
heart of a deer. But there upon the brow
of a near-by hill, picking their way with
precision, were a man and a woman and a
mule. Their heads were bowed so that
they did not see Mr. Enlow, who shouted
to attract them.
38 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Gollaher! Oh, Gollaher!" excitedly
called the pioneer. "The Jehovah sent
you; I am glad; the Lord has been good
to me this day!" And upon his knees, a
mile from the Lincoln cabin, there among
the snow-drifts, Isom Enlow thanked God
for His merciful goodness.
Mrs. Gollaher knew of the expected
confinement of Mrs. Lincoln, and not-
withstanding the blizzard she and her
husband had struggled to reach the little
cabin in time. Strapped to the back of
the mule were sacks containing corn-meal
and bacon, dried apples and peaches,
roots of sassafras bushes for tea, butter
and eggs and bed-clothing. Following the
trail Mr. Enlow had made, the three
friends were soon spreading good cheer
before a blazing wood fire in Thomas Lin-
coln's cabin home.
"While Enlow and Gollaher chopped
wood in the forest and piled it high within
easy reach of the house, Mrs. Gollaher, af-
ter Mrs. Lincoln and Sarah were made
GREAT REJOICING 39
comfortable, wrapped the new baby in a
blanket of wool and held it close to her
warm motherly bosom until a whimper,
a faint wail, assured her that all present
danger was past. Then there was great
rejoicing in the rude little home among
the trees, and Isom Enlow, his long hair
falling back from his high forehead, lifted
his hands to the very roof of the cabin and
said, "I thank thee. Lord, for the strength
thou gave to me this day." Then to Mrs.
Lincoln: *'Name the child * Abraham'
after my son, of whom I am very fond."
*'I will call him Abraham, for that
too was his grandfather's name," she re-
plied, a happy smile of gratitude upon her
face.
Note. — There is a tradition that Thomas Lincoln,
on the morning of the birth of his son, Abraham, in
going across the fields for a mid-wife, met Abraham
Enlow (a son of Isom Enlow) riding a horse, and that
he (Lincoln) borrowed the horse from young Enlow
and rode it to the home of "old Aunt Peggy Walters,"
who, the tradition further says, ministered to Mrs. Lin-
coln, But Mr. GoUaher contended that this tradition is
in error; that Mr. Lincoln was not at home when Abra-
ham was born, and that he did not reach home until
the following day; that three or four days before the
birth of the son, he had gone to Elizabethtown, a dis-
tance of some fifteen miles from his home, to attend to
40 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
an important business matter; that he expected to re-
turn the following day, but that neither man nor beast
could travel in that fearful blizzard and he was forced
to remain away until weather conditions improved;
that upon his return the following day he was sorely
grieved that his wife had given birth to their son under
such distressing circumstances, and that in tears, he
knelt by the bed of his wife and begged the forgiveness
of his "beautiful Nancy," as he always called her; that
In the early afternoon of the following day Mr. Lincoln
went to the home of a Mrs. Keith, a mid-wife, riding
a horse which he borrowed from Abraham Enlow, who
was on his way to the Hodgen Mill with a turn of corn,
and that the Enlow boy remained in. the Lincoln cabin
until Mr. Lincoln returned with the old woman, who
relieved Mrs. Gollaher.
Peggy Walters was buried in the old South Ford
burying-ground, near Cave Spring or Lincoln Farm. A
crude stone on her grave shows that she was born in
1791, therefore she was but eighteen years old when
Abraham Lincoln was born. At that age she could
hardly have been a mid-wife.
CHAPTER V
A WONDERFUL CHILD
The stars came out that night, and the
pioneers heard the breaking of the
crusted snow beneath the feet of stirring
animals as they sought food in the valleys
and on the hills.
Under these frightful conditions, Abra-
ham Lincoln came into the world. On
the winds of a blizzard he came — across
the battle-fields of ice and snow, in the
roar of the hurricane — frozen and
starved. And there beneath a cabin roof,
through which his mother saw the morn-
ing stars among the shifting clouds, he
found life and made of it a wonderful and
a beautiful thing.
After weeks of nursing, the mother and
41
42 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
the boy Abraham were carried in the
arms of Thomas Lincoln out into the sun-
shine ; and there upon the hillside, above
the crystal water of the cave-spring, they
breathed deep of the healing spring air
and waxed strong. The child grew rap-
idly, so rapidly that parents and neigh-
bors were astonished. Jimmie McDougal
said: *'If the Cave Spring Farm could
grow Indian corn like it's growing that
baby, Thomas Lincoln would raise such a
crop that he wouldn't know what to do
with it."
Abraham's face seemed stolid at times,
yet there was always an illuminating lit-
tle twinkle, a forerunner of the humor to
come. A wonderful child the pioneers
thought him, and none who ever saw him
even while he was yet toddling, forgot him
because of his size and his attractive
strangeness. In his babyhood, as later, he
obeyed his father and mother implicitly.
And his love for his mother and her "fool-
ishness" over little Abe were items of
A WONDERFUL CHILD 43
neighborliood gossip. Some said that God
came down, to the world that February
morning and went with Isom Enlow to
that hill where to-day is enshrined behind
polished marble those rough logs which
sheltered the great mother when she gave
to the world her immortal son.
** Somebody asked why God did not
quiet the storm/' said Mr. Gollaher, "but
the folks replied by saying, 'The mj^ster-
ies of God can not be understood, and we
shall not try to understand them. ' It was
just the Master's way of doing things,"
he continued. *'I reckon He wanted to
give to the world an example of what a
baby born under such conditions could do
for the people. Had Abe been born some-
where in a big fine house, it might have
been lots harder for God to have kept self-
ishness out of his heart."
CHAPTER VI
THE BINDING TIE
Over a century ago somebody blazed a
trail from the Knob Creek hills to the
south fork of Nolynn River, a distance of
five miles as the crov7 flies. The path
broadened as it was traveled by the set-
tlers until it became a small road over
which a horse could jog along with ease,
but it was used mostly as a footpath,
branching off here and there like the
limbs of a tree, leading here and there to
the pioneer homes of that large section of
country.
Along this path some time during the
summer of 1812, Mrs. Gollaher, the v^ife
of Thomas Gollaher, carefully made her
way westward. Tall and attractive, vig-
44
THE BINDING TIE 45
orous physically and mentally, she was a
leader among the women of her day and
beloved because of her universal good-
ness. Under her strong arm Mrs. GoUa-
her carried a rifle, and from her rawhide
belt swung a knife and an ax, while across
the young shoulders of her son, Austin,
who followed her that summer morning, a
rifle rested. They were prepared to de-
fend themselves against the possible at-
tack of some wild animal as they made
their way to the Cave Spring Farm, the
home of the Lincolns.
It was one of the poorest farms in that
whole section of wild country; but from
the spring in the cave flowed a pure cold
water, and it was this that attracted
Thomas Lincoln to the place. When his
friends tried to persuade him to move to
a community more settled, or to a farm
more fertile, he would always answer by
saying he could not leave the ^^good water
on the bad farm.'' Rich soil meant little
to Mr. Lincoln ; he was not a farmer, and
46 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
the cultivating and growing of crops were
of small interest to him. He loved the
damp gray woods ; and the bark of the red
fox was more pleasing to him than the
rustle of growing corn.
*' There's a gobbler '' but before the
mother could complete the sentence, Aus-
tin's rifle cracked, and a big fat turkey
gobbler rolled over the cliff with a bullet
hole through its breast. Mrs. Gollaher
did not comment on the marksmanship of
her son, since she had seen him do the
same thing many times before. That day
they had turkey for dinner in the Lincoln
cabin, and that day Austin Gollaher, aged
six, and Abraham Lincoln, aged three, be-
came friends.
** Austin has brought Abraham a tur-
key, ' ' said Mrs. Gollaher. * ^ Shall we have
it for dinner?" Then back of the cabin
they kindled a fire, boiled the water and
picked the feathers from the big bird.
Mrs. Gollaher gave the wings to Sarah
Lincoln, and the claws to Abraham and
h:m£}
u
THE BINDING TIE 47
Austin, saying: "Sarah can fan her
sweetheart with the wings and Abraham
and Austin can use the claws to scratch
the devil's eyes out if he ever comes about
them.''
"I had, of course, seen Abe many times
before this visit, both in his home and
mine," said Mr. Gollaher, the man, "but
there had been something so strange about
him that I had paid little attention to him.
However, upon this occasion, something
new developed in him — something that
made me feel different toward him — and
I loved him. I wanted to cling to him, to be
with him so that I might watch his funny,
serious antics, each one having in it some-
thing I had never seen the like of before.
"He was different — he was unusually
amusing and at the same time pathetic.
Why, he even had a way of plucking a
wild rose, of picking up a leaf that was
different. And he looked at me in such a
knowing way that I was always expecting
his baby lips to open and tell me a sad or
48 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
frightful story. Mrs. Lincoln called him
Abraham, but my mother and I called him
Abe. Abraham was too much for my boy-
tongue. Even after he became president
I called him Abe, for I loved it ; it carried
me back to the days of my childhood
among the hills here, and seemed to flood
my heart with memories of my most loved
playmate. To my mind there is no pret-
tier name than the old-time bob-tailed
name of Abe,
''Abe was a good-sized lad at three,"
continued Mr. GoUaher, **but he would
not, or could not, talk. He just looked on
while I played around the spring, never
smiling or whimpering, or indicating in
any way that he wanted to do more than
follow where I led; and when I looked
back upon that first day of my real ac-
quaintance with Abe Lincoln and think
of the Great Leader of Men, following me,
it amuses me a great deal.
''I cut two sassafras sticks and
trimmed them. Placing a stick between
THE BINDING TIE 49
Abe's long funny legs and straddling an-
other, I tried to interest him in playing
horse, but he only stood and looked at me.
Then I said to him: 'Hit your horse and
make it go.' Then he hit the stick-horse
with his switch and followed me around
the cliff which sheltered the spring.
"Abe wouldn't play much that after-
noon, but he stayed with me until mother
and I started home. I wanted to take him
along with me, but Mrs. Lincoln laughed
and said she couldn't 'spare' him. He
had impressed me so deeply that I could
not forget him, and, in my child mind, I
knew that my friendship for Abe Lincoln
was firmly and eternally established. For
days I thought of him; I wanted to see
him again ; I wanted to see if I could get
him to talk to me — to tell me one of those
strange stories I believed was in his soul,
and I annoyed my mother until she again
took me to see him. During the next visit,
Abe and I became better friends ; that is
to say, Abe became more friendly with me.
50 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
To my surprise, lie brought forth the two
stick-horses I had left with him and
lisped ^ Horse' as he offered me one."
After this fashion, as related by Mr.
Gollaher, the lad, Austin, and the child,
Abe, products of the backwoods, estab-
lished a loyal friendship, and for a num-
ber of years were constant, almost
inseparable companions. In the heart of
Austin Gollaher, a heart which grew old
among his native hills, there was ever a
mellow, wonderful love for Abraham Lin-
coln, and it is said that when he came to
die out there among **his rocks and rills"
nearly a quarter of a century ago, his
withered old lips quivered "Abe" as his
soul took its flight.
There were those at his bedside who be-
lieved he spoke to Abe on the other side of
the River; that the backwoods boys had
met again, and that the immortal Lincoln,
who conquered greatly and who died a
martyr, was happy once more now that
his playmate had come to join him.
CHAPTER VII
A NEW HOME
In none of the pioneers was the spirit
of restlessness more active than in
Thomas Lincoln. He could not settle
down to the work of establishing himself
comfortably in the community in which
he lived. He intended to improve his
home conditions, to build a better and
larger house, just as soon as he could find
a location to suit his fancy. He was not
lazy, neither was he thrifty, but he was a
procrastinator to his own and to his fam-
ily's distress of mind and body. He spent
most of his time planning and put little
into execution.
He would stay at home closely for a
51
52 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
period and would work industriously;
then, without ceremony, and hardly with-
out explanation, he would pick up his
flintlock rifle, cram his pockets full of
ammunition, grind his ax, sharpen his
knife and disappear in the wilderness. He
might be gone a day, a week, or a month.
His wife, who knew his habits well, did
not suffer uneasiness because of his fre-
quently prolonged absences. Indeed,
when he left she did not look for him back
until she found him pushing his way
through the door of their cabin home with
a cheery smile for his "beautiful Nancy. '*
His absence from home when his son
was born grieved him very much ; he wept
when he heard from Mrs. Gollaher the
story of his wife's suffering. But Mrs.
Gollaher did not let his grief stop her
from lecturing him on his domestic care-
lessness. She could see no excuse for the
empty larder, or for the always scant
wood-pile, since there were both game and
wood in abundance. She insisted that he
A NEW HOME 53
make arrangements at once to move his
family to a farm on Knob Creek, within
hailing distance of her owd. home. Mr.
Lincoln promised to consider the matter,
and he did, for four years. Then he
moved.
While Mr. Lincoln was, beyond doubt,
shiftless and apparently satisfied to live
from hand to mouth, he was never accused
of deliberate neglect of his family. He
seemed anxious enough to try to please
them, but the roving spirit had him and he
could not resist the temptation to see what
folk were doing in ''far-away places.''
He was an expert trapper and hunter and
knew more about the woods and the hab-
its of animals than any of his neighbors,
but he thought his wife could kill enough
game to meet the immediate needs of her-
self and their little daughter, Sarah,
while he was away on his trail-blazing,
hunting expeditions.
Mrs. Lincoln used to say laughingly:
"Thomas believes the game thinks enough
54 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
of me to come around to find out if I am
in need of meat."
For a long time after the birth of Abra-
ham, Mr. Lincoln stayed close at home
and applied himself during the summer
to the cultivation of small plats of ground
and during the winter to odd jobs of saw-
and-hatchet work for his neighbors. In
the winter of 1811-12, he had steady work
at the Hodgen Mill, and would frequently
carry Abraham a distance of over two
miles to spend the day with Mrs. Hodgen,
the miller's mother. But in the latter
part of the winter, the roving spirit again
asserted itself and Mr. Lincoln left home
to look at some land in Indiana bordering
the Ohio River. On his return, he ex-
pressed himself as well pleased and talked
of moving to that state. However, to
please his wife who was in poor health, he
gave up the idea for the time being and
seemed contented in the thought that he
was humoring his Nancy.
The Lincolns continued to live in the
A NEW HOME 55
cabin where Abraham was bom until the
spring of 1813, when they moved to the
farm near that of the Gollahers. Abra-
ham was now more than four years old,
but Mrs. Lincoln had not recovered from
the illness incident to his birth, and to
that of a later son who died when quite
young and who was buried in the woods
on the banks of the south fork of Nolynn
River, a short distance from the Lincoln
farm.
All were happier in their new home be-
cause they were so near their good
friends. Mrs. Lincoln improved in
health ; Mr. Lincoln applied himself more
closely to the farm, and the two children
were stronger and better than they had
been at Cave Spring. The cabin home
was more commodious, and the general
surroundings were more inviting.
A daily association immediately sprang
up between Abraham Lincoln and Austin
Gollaher — an association so remarkable
in its pleasing effect upon both boys that
56 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
Thomas Gollaher suggested to Thomas
Lincoln that they yoke them together like
steers. This remark so impressed Abra-
ham that the next day he very seriously
asked his father when he and Mr. Golla-
her were going to ''make that yoke."
Notwithstanding Abraham was three
years younger than Austin, he was quite
as large physically, while his mind was
that of a child very much older.
It was in the Knob Creek hills sur-
rounding the homes of the Gollahers and
the Lincolns that most of the incidents
and adventures here related occurred —
incidents that were kept fresh in the mem-
ory of Austin Gollaher by the unusual
sayings of the boy Lincoln, and later by
the towering greatness of the man. When
Mr. Lincoln became president, Mr. Golla-
her very naturally went to the store-house
of memory for anecdotes of his and Lin-
coln's boyhood in the wilderness, and he
found many and told them to his neighbors
during a period of many years.
A NEW HOME 57
Down at Hodgen Mill the pioneers were
one day discussing various topics when
Isom Enlow incidentally remarked to
Thomas Lincoln that Abe had been named
after his son, Abraham Enlow. Mr. Lin-
coln replied that he was mistaken, that the
boy had been named after his Grand-
father Lincoln. There was a good-natured
argument over the naming of the boy, and
the question was finally referred to Mrs.
Lincoln for settlement. Very quickly and
emphatically she replied: *'Yes, Abra-
ham was named after Mr. Enlow 's son;
I gave him that name myself, for I could
never repay Mr. Enlow 's kindness; but,*'
she added, ''since Mr. Lincoln's father
was Abraham, it is all right to let my boy
be named after both."
*'I'm named after two people," Abra-
ham said to Austin one day, **and I
reckon my name is * Abraham Abraham
Lincoln,' so I'm mighty glad, Austin, that
yovi just call me *Abe.' '*
CHAPTER VIII
THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE
Down on Knob Creek there was a big
flat rock tlirust out from the side of the
cliff as though there wasn't space for it
within. Underneath it there was room
for a nice play-house, and on top of it am-
ple space to build a child-world. The top
was smooth and slightly slanting like the
roof of a flat-top house; above it were
projecting rocks, covered with running
vines. It was an ideal place for boys to
meet their imaginary friends and ene-
mies, to build castles in the air, to fight
battles with the Indians, or to kill bears
and lions, and then, getting away from
their bewildering and heroic imagina-
tions, to lie down and listen to the restful
trickling of the mountain stream.
58
THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE 59
On this rock, Abe and Austin fought
many victorious battles and dreamed the
long thoughts of youth as they looked out
over the wonderful world of their imagin-
ing. Abe called the rock ^Hhe Nice Stone,"
and it could not have been better named.
Its surface was kept polished by the over-
flowing waters of Knob Creek, and Fa-
ther Time had made steps to it, so that the
top, four or five feet above the level of the
ground, could be reached without over-
hand climbing.
Eor two years, when the weather al-
lowed, the boys made the Nice Stone
their haven, but when they grew older
they were kept pretty busy helping make
ready against the winter.
''We were more than 'half -hands,' "
said Mr. GoUaher, "and much more than
worth our 'board and keep.' We could
even fell good-sized trees, or at least we
thought them good-sized, and by begin-
ning early in the spring and by keeping
it up at odd times through the summei*
60 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
and fall, Abe and I would chop as likely a
pile of wood as anybody. We were also
handy with the hoe. So, you see," con-
tinued Mr. GoUaher, "our daddies found
us out and kept us humping most of the
time.
"But the Nice Stone was so alluring to
Abe and me that we occasionally played
off on our fathers and went there for a
* skirmish' when we were expected to be at
our task. However, we soon got caught
at that trick by father and Mr. Lincoln,
who led us by the ears through the woods
to the clearing where we were at work and
threatened to give us a good tanning if we
were ever again guilty of shirking our
duties. You see, it was very important in
those days for everybody to keep pegging
away. It was a big job to clear and clean
up land and cultivate crops because our
tools and implements were very poor, and
to lose time through idleness was consid-
ered mighty dishonorable.''
It was in the spring — one of those first
THE MIEACULOUS ESCAPE 61
bright warm days when every normal boy
longs for the green hills and the blossom-
ing valleys. Nature beckoned, and Abe
and Austin obeyed ; they went to the Nice
Stone. Abe was standing upon the rock,
looking down into the clean water of
Knob Creek. ** There's a fish,'' he said,
"in the pool down there," and he pointed
his long finger at a floundering black basa
that had, in some way, wandered from the
main stream. It was a big one and the
boys, when they reached the pool, had
some trouble in landing it.
Suddenly there came a terrible crash,
and the boys were covered with small
pieces of stone and many clods of dirt, for
an immense rock had dropped from the
cliff above squarely down upon the spot
where a moment before Abe had stood.
Austin, badly frightened, was ready to
flee, but Abe stood quiet for a moment
and then with a little concern asked:
*^What do you reckon caused that?"
''I don't know what caused it," an-
62 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
swered Austin, still alarmed, **but I do
know it didn't miss you very much, and if
it had hit you it would have mashed your
head off."
*'It missed me a heap," Abe quietly
said. *'It missed me as far as it is from
here to the Nice Stone."
"Well, it missed you just about a min-
ute," retorted Austin, *'and if you go
there to play any more, you'll have to go
by yourself, because there are two more
rocks hanging up there and one of them
might fall any time."
** Another rock might not fall there
again as long as we live, Austin, but we
won't play around there any more, be-
cause if one of them did fall and kill you,
I'd feel like I was the cause of it."
**When we told our mothers of the
near-accident, we were warned not to visit
the rock again, and it was a long time
before we returned there," said Mr.
Gollaher. "But Abe didn't seem to think
anything at all about his miraculous
THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE 63
escape, and when I mentioned it he talked
about what a big fish we caught out of the
pool. We missed the Nice Stone, and
were often tempted to resume our play-
there, but I was afraid, and since Abe's
mother had told him he must not, he could
not have been persuaded to disobey her.
^'Why, I'll tell you," said the old man,
full of sincerity, ''God watched over Abe
Lincoln; He didn't want him killed, be-
cause there were no others like him ; and
He wanted to use Abe for a big purpose ;
and He didn't want to go to the trouble to
make another like him," continued the ex-
cited and emphatic Mr. Gollaher. "Had
I been upon the Nice Stone alone, that big
boulder would have hit me square upon
the head and mashed every bone in my
body. Abe's presence saved me. And
don't you know, I got it into my child-
head that God was watching over me, too,
so that I could keep Abe company and
amuse him with some of my antics. When
I was with Abe I had a sort of safe and se-
64 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
cure feeling — a feeling that nothing of
any serious consequence could happen to
either of us. There was something that
caused me to look upon that long-leg boy
in wonder. It was no surprise to me when
I heard Abe had been elected president.
I reckon I saved Abe's life two or three
times, but if I hadn't been there to do it,
God would have saved him in some other
way. I wasn't a bit scared the time they
raised such a fuss about Abe being lost,
and I told my mother that he 'd turn up all
right. Mother asked me why I thought
so, and I told her that God was looking af-
ter Abe. Then mother smiled and said to
me: 'Well, we are going out with torches
to look for him anyhow, and we are all
praying that God will guide us to him. '
**Once I asked Abe if he believed the
devil stayed down deep under the ground,
and to my surprise he said; 'No sir-ee, I
don't; I believe he's in the woods and ev-
erywhere; when he's around here I think
he spends most of his time in the heart of
THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE 65
old Mr. Evans. ' Abe was always answer-
ing me in that curious way, curious for a
boy at least.
**I never liked to go to the Hodgen Mill
alone," said the old man, ''altbougb I car-
ried a rifle and could shoot straight as
any one. I had an uneasy feeling when I
was out on that old lonesome road by my-
self. But Abe, when he was less than six
years old, went alone, carried his corn and
didn't seem to mind it. It was a distance,
too, of about four miles from here, and the
country was pretty rough and gloomy. I
felt skittish without Abe, and father made
fun of me when I told him it was too dan-
gerous for a boy to make the trip alone,
that some day I might meet a big wild ani-
mal and that if my aim wasn't good, it
would kill me and then nobody would ever
know what became of me. Father just
laughed and said I was big enough to kill
a bear with my naked hands, adding that
he knew what I was up to, that I just
wanted *Abe Lincoln to go with me.'
66 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
** Abe wouldn't learn to shoot a gun, and!
didn't carry one," Mr. Gollaher said, bit-
ing off another chew of his "store to-
bacco." "But his father made him carry
a knife and a small ax. (My grandfather,
who was a blacksmith, made the ax for
him.) Well, it was finally arranged so
that Abe and I could make most of the
trips to the mill together, but occasionally
something would happen, either with
Abe's family or mine, that would make it
necessary for us to go alone; and don't
you know I actually refused to go without
Abe; I was mortally afraid, and two or
three times father found it necessary to
start me with a hickory. But if Abe was
ever afraid to go without me, he never
mentioned it.
"I never often saw Abe excited," he
continued, "but on one occasion when a
small wildcat attacked his dog, * Honey,'
and Abe thought he was going to be killed,
he got so nervous he danced a jig and
yelled to me to shoot the cat, but before I
THE MIEACULOUS ESCAPE 67
could shoot, Honey, minus a little hair,
went one way and the cat another. Then
Abe, taking a big long breath, said: 'I
was scared, Austin, because it looked like
that wildcat was going to skin Honey
alive.' "
Mr. Gollaher gazed across the little
field in front of his home to the hills, and
half to himself he asked :
'^Why was that pool made in the edge
of Knob Creek f Why did the fish get into
the pool, and why did it flounder two min-
utes before that stone fell?" And then
he answered his own questions, saying:
**Just God's mysterious way of doing
things."
CHAPTER IX
NEW FRIENDS
The narrow road, which, like a huge
rusty snake, wound its way through the
Knob Creek hills to Hodgen's Mill, was
bordered by hundreds of great forest
trees, *' three-footers" the natives called
them. It was the custom to cut away the
bark for a space possibly a foot square,
smooth it down carefully and then upon
the bright surface inscribe notes, bits of
doggerel or directions to the passing
stranger. This method of woodland cor-
respondence became so popular that many
romantic settlers carried with them a wil-
low twig brush and a small container
filled with pokeberry ink. It was like the
gay days in the Forest of Arden when Or-
lando wrote his love-notes to Rosalind.
68
NEW FRIENDS 69
Thomas Gollaher had just trimmed a
smooth spot upon the trunk of a big tree
and was preparing to "indite" a letter —
a simple, three or four word letter, in
which he would find amusement, but oth-
ers would perhaps see nothing except a
senseless scrawling when a short dis-
tance ahead of him he saw young Lincoln
trudging along with a good-sized dog un-
der one arm and a small sack of meal upon
the opposite shoulder. It was a heavy
load, very much too heavy for the lad, big
as he was, and he carelessly threw the sack
of meal down under a clump of bushes,
then very gently placed the dog on the
ground beside it. The day was hot, and
under his burden Abe was steaming and
perspiring. He fanned himself with a
bunch of leaves and dropped down beside
the dog. The curious Mr. Gollaher
slipped noiselessly from behind one big
tree to another, Indian-fashion, until he
was within a few feet of Abe. Then he
watched and listened.
70 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
Abe was holding tlie dog close to his
breast, calling it "Honey" and talking to
it most sympathetically. Again he placed
it on the ground by the bag of meal, and
went to a small spring across the road and
brought back a cap full of water which he
gave the dog to drink. Then he took a
hunting knife from his belt and quickly
whittled out two rude splints. Next he
peeled the bark from some pawpaw
bushes, placed a splint on each side of the
dog's right foreleg and wrapped it with
the soft pliable bark. The wounded dog
licked Abe's hands and face, and whined
its thanks into his ear. The new friends
loved each other — the boy because it was
natural for him, out of his sympathetic
heart, to love that which suffered, and the
dog out of gratitude for the great kind-
ness shown him.
*'By holy, he's fixed that dog's broken
leg!" exclaimed the astonished Gollaher
in a voice that Abe overheard. Realizing
that he had disclosed his presence he
One of the old trails over which Abe and Austin carried their
corn to Hodgen's Mill
NEW FRIENDS 71
stepped out from his listening-post and
asked if he could be of any assistance to
*' Doctor Abraham.''
Without displaying the slightest sur-
prise over the sudden interruption, the
boy quietly asked Mr. Gollaher for a piece
of rawhide, and the two finished the job
by wrapping tightly the bark and the
splints.
''Give me another piece of rawhide,
please, Mr. Gollaher, to tie around the
dog's neck, so I can fasten him to a stob."
"All right, Abe ; here it is, but don't you
know the sun is about down and you are
at least a mile from home? Your
pappy '11 tan your hide when you get
there. Now, you'd better move along;
I'm going the other way, just as soon as I
write my letter." And he stepped over
to the tree which he had prepared for his
inscription.
*'I'll tell you what I'll write," said Mr.
Gollaher with a humorous twinkle in his
eye. ''I'll just say 'Abe-ee got a dog.' "
72 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Now, please, Mr. GoUaher, don't tell
father about the dog," begged Abe, *'for
he might try to kill it to put it out of its
misery ; and I want it to get well, so Aus-
tin and I can play with it."
Mr. Gollaher promised, and Abe turned
homeward, his sack of meal over his
shoulder, the dog hopping on three legs at
his side. Then upon the tree, the woods-
man wrote, in ragged letters :
"ABE L. GOT A DORG."
Abe trudged along stopping now and
then to pat the dog on the head, and to as-
sure it that the broken leg would soon be
well. When in hailing distance of his
home he paused to reconnoiter and to
plan. He must do something with the
dog ; he must hide it temporarily, because
there was grave danger that his father
would kill it. Dropping his bag of meal,
he hurriedly tied the crippled dog beneath
a sheltering bush and told it to lie quiet
until he got back. On reaching home he
NEW FRIENDS 73
found Ms mother worried, as usual, be-
cause of his late arrival, but his explana-
tion satisfied her and she forgave him.
Indeed, his excuses were usually well-
founded. The old mill was slow, and each
customer had to await his turn. The mil-
ler, John Hodgen, loved Abe devotedly,
but he would not violate his rule of *'first
come first served," and Abe's turn usu-
ally came late.
He never walked briskly ; his was a long
stride but slow careful step, and he seldom
hurried, except upon those occasions
when his father followed with a switch.
Then, too, he saw many things of interest
along the wooded paths. The squirrel, the
rabbit, the opossum, and, indeed, every
wild creature of the woods challenged
him on his journeys to and from the mill.
He had been known to lose an hour's time
chasing a snake through the weeds to res-
cue a frog from the reptile's greedy
mouth ; and the young birds along the way
that happened to fall from their nests
74 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
found no more eager Samaritan than
young Abe. He never failed to climb the
tree and deliver the baby bird safely to its
mother. There were so many attractions
in the woods, so many things needing
Abe's immediate attention, that it wasn't
surprising he sometimes forgot the corn-
meal.
The miller frequently reprimanded Abe
for his tardiness, and often when it was
too late for the boy to go home alone
would saddle "Old Fanny," his mare, and
deliver him and his bag of meal to his
home on Knob Creek. And Mr. Hodgen,
being fond of Abe, usually stretched the
truth a bit and informed Thomas Lincoln
that there were many early customers and
that the boy's turn did not come until late
for that reason.
*'Down there by the tall sycamore tree, I
have a dog tied to a sapling, and its leg is
broken," Abe whispered to his mother,
Thomas having fallen asleep in the chim-
ney corner. *' Please go with me to get
NEW FEIENDS 75
him, and help me put him in the pen where
the pigs used to stay; there's a roof over
it and he won't get wet when it rains."
In answer to his mother's inquiries he
then told the story of how he found the
crippled dog at the foot of a precipice,
and how he had "fixed" its broken leg.
^^ISTow," he added, *^father won't like the
dog, but you will like him, and so will
Sarah, and I want you to beg father not
to kill him or give him away."
Mrs. Lincoln, always indulgent of Abra-
ham, consented, and the two went out
into the night to find the dog and bring
him in to his new home — the pig pen. Abe
carried the wounded animal in his arms,
patting him and calling him ''Honey," as
they made their way back to the house.
''You love the dog so much," said his
mother, when Abraham asked her what to
name him, "I reckon you'd better call
him 'Honey'; that was what you called
him last night when you untied him from
the sapling."
76 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
So the dog was christened ^* Honey."
**He'll do lots of good things for me,"
said Abe to his mother. *^You just watch
and see."
Mrs. Lincoln smiled, little thinking
that Honey was to play an important part
in the lives of the Lincolns.
When at last, after much careful nurs-
ing, the crude bandage was removed, Abra-
ham was terribly distressed to find the
leg miserably twisted, and he was much
afraid the dog would never be able to run
fast. However, Honey developed speed
that was surprising, and as the leg did not
pain him or interfere with his activities
Abe was happy, for physical appearance
did not count much with him then as ever.
** Honey was not good to look upon,"
said Mr. GoUaher; *'his twisted leg re-
minded me of a curve in the road ; but he
was the smartest dog in the neighborhood,
and made a fitting companion for Abe
since both were good and smart and
ugly."
CHAPTER X
THE HODGENS
Every boy has his hero. John Hodgen,
the miller, was young Abe's; and Mrs.
Hodgen, the good man's mother, was his
heroine. The miller was big, and gentle,
kind and courageous ; his mother, in Abra-
ham's opinion, was beautiful and won-
derfully wise. She was sixty years of age
— a white-haired widow — ^her husband
having died in 1810, the year follov^ng
that of Abe's birth — and was the mother
of several children, all of whom had
grown to years of discretion before the
child Lincoln became such a favorite in
the Hodgen home. It was told that on one
occasion Abe looked at her snow-white
hair for several minutes, and said: "I
reckon God made j^our hair white so it
77
78 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
would be like an angel's robe." Where
he got the simile no one ever knew.
Abraham's first knowledge that there
is such a country as England, came from
Mrs. Hodgen, who told him that her hus-
band, Robert Hodgen, was born there in
1742. She delighted the child with many
interesting accounts of that far-away em-
pire, and thrilled him with stories of her
husband's perilous voyage across the At-
lantic. He also learned from Mrs. Hod-
gen much about Virginia, as she was born
there in 1757, coming through the great
dark wilderness to Kentucky with her fa-
ther, John LaRue, when she was quite
young.
At times Abraham apparently enjoyed
being with boys, but more often he looked
on their rough play with sad disgust. It
frequently happened that boys mistook
cruelty for heroism, and Abe despised
cruelty wherever he found it. Bravado
did not thrill him, neither did the bully
frighten him.
THE HODGENS 79
**One day a lad by the name of Evans
pulled off the head of a young bird/' said
Mr. Gollaher, *'and threw it at the feet of
Abe. He did it because he knew it would
displease Abe, and because he thought it
was smart for a boy to be cruel. I never
saw such a look as that which came into
Abe's face; it changed from the mildness
of summer to the harshness of winter, and
he looked at the offending boy until the
youngster from sheer terror hid his face
in his hands. To my surprise, the Evans
boy apologized for his depredation, but
Abe turned his back upon him and said :
'Let's go, Austin; I don't want even to
be close to him.' "
To the boy Lincoln, John Hodgen, the
miller, was the biggest man in the world,
and when the boys teased him and told
him he was trying to be like "Mr. John,"
he said: ''Well, if all of you would try
to be like Mr. John there wouldn't be
any need for your parents to watch you to
try to keep you from doing wrong."
80 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"One bright morning in mid-smnmer,'*
said Mr. Gollaher, "Abe, Mr. Hodgen and
I were standing on the platform in front
of the mill when old Zack Evans rode up
with a sack of corn. His horse was blind,
and when he shied away from the plat-
form Evans gave him a terrific kick in
the stomach. The poor beast groaned.
Abe looked at Mr. Hodgen and Mr. Hod-
gen looked at Abe.
" 'Zack, why did you kick that horse?*
asked Mr. Hodgen angrily; Hhe blind old
animal was good enough to bring you and
your corn to mill, and doesn't deserve
such treatment. '
"For answer Evans kicked the horse
again.
"Quicker than a flash, John Hodgen
grabbed the man by the collar and pinned
him against the platform ; then he raised
him up and looked into his face and said ;
*Take your corn away from here, and
don't you come around me any more; if
you ever kick that old horse again in my
THE HODGENS 81
presence I '11 give you a thrashing you will
remember as long as you live. '
**At first I thought the frightened man
was going to run away, but he soon re-
gained his senses, and was loud in his
apologies. He begged Mr. Hodgen to
grind the corn, which, of course, he did.
"It was unusual for Abe to show elation
over anything and especially over quar-
rels or fights, but he seemed to get pleas-
ure out of the shaking Mr. Hodgen gave
Zack Evans. At the conclusion of the
apology Abe said rather spiritedly:
*Your boy pulled off the head of a live
bird and threw it at my feet the other day
and he asked me to forgive him just like
you did Mr. Hodgen. Your boy oughn't
to do any more birds that way and you
oughtn't to kick your horse any more.' "
The mill was on a cliff, overlooking
Nolynn River, while the home of the Hod-
gens rested in a pretty grove a quarter of
a mile to the west on the river bank. It
was perhaps the most commodious house
82 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
in that region and was looked upon ad-
miringly by every pioneer who saw it. It
was here that Abraham Lincoln gained
his thirst for knowledge and learned
many of the simpler lessons of life. So
ardent was the love of John Hodgen and
his mother for the boy that they several
times begged Mrs. Lincoln to give him to
them, but she always said no to their
pleadings. For days at a time during the
winter Abraham would visit them, but af-
ter a while he would get homesick for his
mother and sister and Austin, and then
John Hodgen and his mother would bun-
dle him up and send him trudging back
across the hills to Knob Creek.
CHAPTER XI
THIRST FOR LEARNING
Abraham called JTolin Hodgen *'Mr.
John," and Mrs. Hodgen "Missus
Sarah," but he always called Isaac Hod-
gen *^Mr. Hodgen," because he could not
pronounce Isaac clearly. Then, too, Mr.
John and Missus Sarah were his closest
friends and he doubtless felt it was a lit-
tle more endearing to use their given
names.
From the lips of John Hodgen and his
mother, the boy learned something of the
wonders of the world, of far-off lands
and cities rich and splendid. They told
him the story of Columbus and stirred his
latent love of country with the proud
name of Washington. Those stories Abe
83
84 THE BOYHOOD OF LmCOLN"
greedily devoured, but lie didn't like tales
of Indian massacres, and when John
Hodgen teasingly began one of them the
boy begged for more of George Washing-
ton or Robinson Crusoe, whose patience
in teaching "Friday" impressed him
greatly.
"Abe said to me one day," related Mr.
Gollaher, laughingly, "that the reason he
liked Mr. Crusoe was because he believed
the adventurer was just like Mr. John,
that had Mr. John been out there on that
island, he would have done everything as
Mr. Crusoe did it."
From his mother and from Mrs. Hod-
gen Abraham learned his A B C's. In-
deed, these two women created in him the
first thirst for knowledge — that thirst
which grew as the boy grew, until it be-
came his first concern, his one great pas-
sion. With pencils of soapstone, upon
smooth boards scorched black over the
backlog fire, Mrs. Hodgen spelled and
figured and explained, never losing pa-
THIRST FOR LEARNING 85
tience in her effort to teach the boy — to
give him the fundamental three R's. Abe
was proud of his progress and worked
faithfully; indeed, he became so studious
that his father threatened to forbid fur-
ther ^* education," but Mrs. Hodgen
shamed him out of this and assured him
that one day he would be exceedingly
proud of his son, Abraham. However, she
did not succeed in convincing Mr. Lincoln
that education was necessary; in fact, he
told her it was a waste of time, and "a
piece of foolishness" to interest a boy as
big and strong as Abraham in *' book-
learning," that such things should be re-
served for girls, and for boys who were
small and sickly.
Each week Mrs. Hodgen would write on
the burnt board one of the Ten Command-
ments, and when Abraham came to the
mill with corn she would read and reread
it to him until it was pretty well im-
pressed upon his fresh young mind. Then
on his next visit to the mill she would read
86 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
him a new Commandment and have him
repeat the one of the previous week.
Mrs. Hodgen used kindergarten meth-
ods of her own devising long before kin-
dergartens were dreamed of. Her illus-
trations were amusing and impressive.
For example: She would drive three
sticks or stobs into the ground ; to one she
would tie a cat, to another a hen, and to
the third Abraham's dog, and then in the
ground beside each she would write its
name : c-a-t, h-e-n, d-o-g. Of course the boy
was tremendously interested; he would
walk from one stob to another, stopping
and thinking; then back again to the be-
ginning. Finally he cried out that he
could ^'do them," and turning his back he
went down on his hands and knees and
wrote ''cat," "hen" and "dog" on that
smoothed spot in the back yard of the
Hodgen home where he and Austin played
marbles.
On his way home that afternoon Abe
printed "cat," "hen" and "dog" on ev-
THIRST FOR LEARNING 87
ery inviting spot that he passed ; the fair
face of nature was splotched and blotted,
and Abraham was late to supper. The
truthful explanation he gave his father
was entirely unsatisfactory, and a whip-
ping followed. Thomas Lincoln was dis-
pleased and again threatened to forbid
any more of that foolishness which Mrs,
Hodgen was putting into the boy's head.
But Mrs. Lincoln interceded; and when
she believed it necessary to be positive
with her husband she could be, so Mr. Gol-
laher asserted, finally and completely
positive. Thomas Lincoln seriously be-
lieved that Abraham's thirst for book
learning would be his ultimate ruin and
naturally did not feel very kindly toward
Mrs. Hodgen.
Abraham told Austin about the inci-
dent, and added that he was very sorry his
father didn't seem to want a boy to learn
anything out of books, and that *'if father
had learned a little about reading and
writing when he was a child he might not
88 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
have wanted to kill as many foxes and
coons and other things in the woods."
Mr. Lincoln had practically no educa-
tion. When he made an occasional sale of
pelts to a huckster he had to get his wife
to ^'figure up the amount due him" and
then count the money. But he was unal-
terably opposed to education, saying that
people who could read were lazy, and neg-
lectful of their duties in the fields and
woods.
But Abraham did not let his father's
reprimand or his opposition to book
learning keep him from Missus Sarah's
open-air school or the room up-stairs that
she had set apart exclusively for her pu-
pil 's use.
In his spelling lessons the word which
gave to him the most trouble was 'Tur-
key." He would sometimes spell it
**tirkee," sometimes ''terkee," or, getting
closer to it, *'turkie." Finally Missus
Sarah succeeded in getting him straight-
ened out on the letter ''u" by telling him
THIRST FOR LEARNING 89
to remember: ''When I tell YOU to go
to the spring for water YOU must go.
Now," she said, "U-U-U, YOU must re-
member." He then learned to spell
*'key" and so finished his education as
far as ''turkey" was concerned. When
he told Austin that he knew how to spell
"turkey" the latter replied: "Well, I'd
lots rather know how to shoot one; the
spelling won't do you any good, but if
you'd learn to shoot straight you'd kill
one every now and then. What good '11 it
do you to spell 'em if you can't get 'em to
eat?" he asked very seriously.
Until the end of his long life Mr. Golla-
her repeated Lincoln's answer to that
question at every opportunity, sometimes
laughingly and sometimes soberly, but al-
ways with earnestness.
"It's this way, Austin," replied Abe,
"eating is good and we have to eat to live,
but if you are going to keep it on your
mind you'd just as well have been born a
pig, then you could have rooted around
90 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
all day long for something to chew up and
swallow. We ought to put something in
our heads as well as in our bellies. Every-
thing depends on our heads — on the
things we get out of books. The more we
put into our heads, the easier we will get
things to put into our bellies. Of course,
we've got to kill things to eat, but if I had
to kill anything I could kill it with a rock ;
I don't want to learn how to shoot ; father
can do the shooting for me. He doesn't
mind killing things and I do. Yes, sir-ee ;
I'd rather know how to spell turkey than
be able to shoot its head off with a gun."
*' Although Abe pleaded with me, I
could not be persuaded to take an interest
in Mrs. Hodgen's free school," said Mr.
Gollaher, "and it always pleased me when
I heard Mr. Lincoln making fun of edu-
cation. I preferred to become a good
hunter and trapper — a woodsman with a
mighty swinging ax — and I devoted my
time to training myself along those lines."
When he became a very old man he said
THIRST FOR LEARNING 91
it had been one of the deepest regrets of
his life that he had not gone with Abe to
Missus Sarah's school, but he added, with
a smile, "I was a better wood-chopper, a
better hunter and a better trapper than
Abe, even if he was a better president."'
Arithmetic was too prosy for Abraham.
He thought it a waste of time to try to get
sense out of figures, and Mrs. Hodgen
had no end of trouble in persuading him
that it was worth while to know that two
tunes two are four. He contended that he
wanted to learn how to read so that he
could find out about Columbus and Wash-
ington, and what had gone on in the
world ; he could not see that figures would
help him to do that. He told Austin that
he did not expect to have much to do with
things that would require *' adding to and
taking from." But Mrs. Hodgen told
him that some day he would own a cow
that he might want to sell. **Then," she
said, "you couldn't even count the money,
and the man to whom you sold the cow
92 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
might cheat you." This seemed to im-
press him and he applied himself a little
more interestedly in an effort to unravel
some of the simple mysteries of figures,
"Abe very quickly learned how to pro-
nounce a great many small words," said
Mr. Gollaher, "but figures seemed to
worry him a lot. After he was able to say
arithmetic correctly, he took more inter-
est in addition and subtraction. He cer-
tainly made a mighty slow start in 'sums*
and a mighty fast start in everything else
in the way of learning. I reckon his for-
wardness in reading and writing made
him seem more backward in arithmetic
than he really was. Before he left Ken-
tucky," continued Mr. Gollaher, "he
claimed he could count up to one hundred
and he said he didn't believe he'd try to
learn anything more about figures. Mis-
sus Sarah insisted that he count to two
hundred by saying 'one hundred one, one
hundred two, one hundred three' and so
on, but he told her that he could count one
THIRST FOR LEARNING 93
hundred dollars, and that he didn't expect
ever to have that much money.
" 'But, Austin,' he said very earnestly,
*I will learn to read and then I am going
to get that book the preacher and Mr.
John told us about — Robinson Crusoe,
Then, too,' he said with that lovely ex-
pression around his eyes, 'I hope some
day to read all the stories about Christo-
pher Columbus and George Washington,
and about England, where Missus Sarah's
husband was born. Did you know, Aus-
tin,' Abe asked, 'that there are a lot of
books about Virginia, and my father and
all of his people came from there, and so
■lid my mother, and Missus Sarah and all
of her folks. So, I want to hurry up and
learn to read and get some books about
Virginia. That's the reason I can't take
much time to study figures ; I must learn
to read.'
''Abe attended a school over there
where the town of Athertonville is now
located," said Mr. Gollaher. "It was con-
94 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
ducted by a Monk whose name, I believe,
was Zack Riley.* Abe always said he
went for one term (a term in those days
was two months) , but to my certain knowl-
edge he was not there more than ten days.
Pirst one thing and then another, his fa-
ther being one of them, would keep him
away. Lots of times Knob Creek was so
high he couldn't get across it, and fre-
quently his mother's illness would keep
him at home. Abe could not be persuaded
to leave his mother if her illness confined
her to bed. I have known him to sit in the
house day after day when his mother was
sick because he was afraid she might want
a drink of water or something, and Abe
thought nobody else could wait on her in
the right way. He loved his mother more
than anything else in the world, and she
loved Abe, too; she loved him so much
that my mother used to say: 'Well,
Nancy thinks she's going to that child
when she dies. '
•According to Joseph H, Barrett's history of Lin-
coln it was Zachariah Riney.
THIRST FOR LEARNING 95
**Abe attended another school, over
there in the woods, that was taught by a
journeyman teacher,* but the results
were about the same. He always said he
didn't get up much interest because he
couldn't be there every day, and when he
missed it made the teacher mad. His
most interested and most successful
teacher in this section was Mrs. Sarah
Hodgen, and when she and Abe finally
got the men of the neighborhood to build
a schoolhouse over near Hodgen 's Mill he
was the happiest boy in the world."
•The latter school referred to, according to the
same authority, was taught by a man named Caleb
Hazel.
CHAPTER XII
THE PARSON AND THE COONSKIN CAP
Under a big maple tree, which stood on
a smooth, grassy plat of ground, at the
foot of a knob, a platform and pulpit had
been built of poplar logs, split in two with
a whip-saw. The big maple dipped to-
ward the knob until its branches laced
with the limbs of the trees growing on
the hillside. In front of it was a grove of
many smaller trees, whose lower limbs
had been trimmed by the pioneers so there
would be no need for a sinner to duck
when he started to the altar.
Directly facing the pulpit was a long
bench — the mourners' bench — built upon
stump-like legs, while scattered promiscu-
ously through the grove were logs and
smoothed-off stumps, — pews of the mem-
96
THE COONSKIN CAP 97
bers of the Knob Creek congregation.
This ideal spot for a camp-meeting was
known for miles around as the *' Church
of Maple Trees."
There was always much excitement
among the pioneers during these relig-
ious revivals, which lasted a week; one
meeting in the late spring and one in the
early fall. Other interests were subordi-
nated by the promoters of the camp-meet-
ing, and all became, for the time being, la-
borers in the Vineyard of the Lord.
For at least a week beforehand, the par-
son (a journeyman preacher) would visit
among the pioneers to work up interest
and to let the remoter people know the
date of the meeting. The preacher was
paid but little those days, but he was be-
loved and respected; welcomed in every
home, given the best there was to eat, and
furnished a horse to ride. Indeed, he was
a hero, and the people followed him, be-
lieving implicitly in him and in his
teachings.
98 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
When the camp-meeting was in prog-
ress, the settlers came prepared to stay
the entire week, and any who could not
find shelter in the homes of the neighbors
remained in the woods and slept beneath
the wide-spreading trees or the over-
hanging cliffs,
Mrs. Lincoln was a devoutly religious
woman and never tired trying to promote
the religious welfare of the communitj^
Closely associated with her in this work
were Mrs. Hodgen, Mrs. Gollaher and
Mrs. Walters. Thomas Lincoln was not so
enthusiastic as his wife, but he attended
the meetings and often became deeply in-
terested, even excited, over the matter of
his soul's salvation. At such times he
would join in the singing and shouting,
and otherwise disi)lay a deeply emotional
spirit ; but he would soon forget, and was
most of the time looked on as a
*' backslider."
Not that he was irreligious or immoral.
He was simply indifferent. Restlessness
THE COONSKIN CAP 99
was his pet weakness. He had the wan-
dering foot, and looking for other locations
for a home was his hobby. He found
many, too, in different parts of Kentucky
and Tennessee and Indiana, and was for-
ever threatening to move. Home-hunting
was little short of a mania with him, so
much so that at times he entirely forgot
his duty to his family in his desire to ex-
plore new regions. Because of his roving
propensities he was not counted as one of
the community's substantial citizens, and
the sincerity of his camp-meeting conver-
sions was doubted by his neighbors.
But his wife, the mother of Abraham,
kept the light burning in the little cabin
home. The worn old Bible, the only book
in the Lincoln library, was her refuge and
her strength. She taught Abraham and
his sister to pray and they all made brave
efforts to sing. Abraham, during his mo-
ments of sadness, for even as a lad he was
touched with melancholy, would hum the
pioneers' favorite hymn, The Old Ark's
100 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
A-moving, and every night before he
closed his eyes he breathed a simple
prayer.
A camp-meeting was now at its height
in the Church of Maple Trees. It was
early fall and the leaves were yet clinging
to their boughs though some of them in
the topmost branches were turning yel-
low, giving to the forest church a vaulted
arch of green and gold.
Thomas Lincoln became deeply inter-
ested in this particular meeting and on
the second day he sought the mourners'
bench and on the third day prayed aloud
when called on by the Reverend Mr. Gen-
try. Mrs. Lincoln was jubilant over the
effect Brother Gentry's sermons were
having on her husband, and expressed the
belief to Mrs. Gollaher that he had at last
found permanent favor with the Lord.
Abe and Austin, as the ** official her-
alds,'* were sent out each morning with
invitations to the families that had not at-
tended the meetings, to come and enjoy
THE COONSKIN CAP 101
the Godly messages of the evangelist.
The boys rode "double" on an old mule
and traveled in haste since they were re-
quired to be on the grounds in time for
dinner and the afternoon services.
*'The arrangement to send us out in the
morning," said Mr. Gollaher, "was made,
of course, because our parents knew we
would get back for dinner, and so, very
naturally, get back in time for the after-
noon preaching. Abe was always a big
eater, but I was even a bigger one, and af-
ter we had jolted around over these hills
for four or five hours, we were good and
ready to have our physical needs attended
to."
"Austin," said Abe, as he tenderly pat-
ted his dog, "father has been on the
^mourners' bench' and has prayed out
loud once or twice, but I don't know so
much about his religion."
"Why, Abe, what's he done to make
you say that?" asked Austin.
"Kicked Honey last night, and I don't
102 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
believe anybody with even a little religion
will kick a dog when it rubs its nose
against him in a friendly way. That was
all Honey did; just put his nose up
against father's knee, and father kicked
him on his twisted leg. I haven't been on
the mourners' bench," continued Abe,
*'but I wouldn't kick anybody's dog.
What do you think about it, Austin?"
**Well, I don't know; maybe your fa-
ther thinks it's no harm to kick a dog;
maybe he thinks God doesn't like dogs."
*'No, surely he wouldn't think that,"
said Abe earnestly. "He would be a
mighty funny God if He didn't like a
good dog."
On the fifth day of the meeting a goodly
number were gathered for the morning
service and the hour for the sermon had
arrived, but the preacher had not. Noon
came and still no parson. There was
much excitement, much speculation as to
his whereabouts, and Thomas Gollaher
and Thomas Lincoln hurriedly set out in
THE COONSKIN CAP 103
search of him, he being a guest in the
home of the former.
But the good man had left the house
alone, as was his custom, to stroll through
the wilderness and commune with nature
for a brief season before expounding the
gospel. On this particular morning he
had set out earlier than usual, and was
seen to follow the path down to Knob
Creek, to cross the foot-log and disappear
in the woods. Earnest and systematic
search revealed no slightest trace of him.
His disappearance was as complete as
though he had been gathered up in trail-
ing clouds of glory. For a long time
Brother Gentry and his unceremonious
departure was the subject of much discus-
sion ; a few believed him an impostor, but
the faith of the many was unshaken.
Theories without end were advanced,
but the one generally accepted was that
he had received a "call" to other fields
and had left neglecting to inform the con-
gregation of his intention. He had been
104 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
heard to say that these calls from the
Ijord often came to him unexpectedly and
that he obeyed without the loss of so much
as a moment's time.
But to one of the youthful pioneers the
hasty departure of the preacher brought
sadness, if not black distrust. Abraham's
coonskin cap, the one that Mrs. Hodgen
had made for him — his best Sunday-go-
to-meeting coonskin cap — had disap-
peared contemporaneously with the
parson.
On the day before, it seems, while the
reverend gentleman was crossing Knob
Creek, a sudden gust of wind blew his hat
from his bald head. The hat was caught
in the swift current of the stream and car-
ried far beyond any human reach. Now,
the Lincoln cabin was close at hand, so the
parson went there to beg protection for
his head, and Abraham's mother gladly
accommodated him with Abraham's coon-
skin cap.
*'If that wasn't stealing, what was it?"
THE COOHSKIN CAP 105
Abe inquired of Austin. '* And I don't be-
lieve he got any call from the Lord, for if
he had the Lord would have told him to
take time to bring my cap back to me, or
to hang it on a pole where we could see it
when we passed. God doesn't want any-
body preaching for Him who takes caps
or anything else that doesn't belong to
'em. ' '
"But, Abe," said Austin, "the preacher
is baldheaded, and it was chilly that morn-
ing and he might have taken cold if he had
nothing on his head. ' '
"That's so," said Abe, "but it doesn't
make it right for the preacher to steal ; he
might have pulled one of his socks down
over his head. Besides, I saw him slip
some walnuts in his pocket the other day ;
and when he caught sight of me he looked
mighty sheepish. Of course, we didn't
care how many nuts he took, but he ought
to have asked for them. Don't you ever
take anything, Austin, that doesn't be-
long to you, for it won't do you any good.
106 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
That preacher's sure to have trouble over
that cap. It might even turn into a coon
and scratch all the skin off his bald
head." And Abe's wide mouth expanded
into a grin, and Austin roared with
laughter.
CHAPTER XIII
ABRAHAM AND THE CHURCH
Abraham was spending the night with
the Hodgens. He had said his prayers
and had been tucked away in his trundle
bed, a bed kept especially for him. Mrs.
Hodgen thought him asleep until, greatly
to her surprise, she heard him get up and
tiptoe to the open door, where he stood
looking out at the big gloomy trees, over
which a mellow summer moon was shin-
ing. ''Down there in the grove would be
a good place to build the church," he
whispered to himself, ''and I am going to
help the men cut down the trees and fix
the logs."
"What's the matter, Abraham?" asked
Mrs. Hodgen, "can't you sleep?"
107
108 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
*'Yes, Missus Sarah," he answered,
*'but before I go to sleep I want to prom-
ise you that I'll cut down some trees and
shape some logs for the church you want
to build. I reckon I could cut down one a
day, trim it and get it ready. If the men
will cut down two trees a day, it wouldn't
be long till you'd have enough logs to
build the church."
''That is true, my boy," answered Mrs.
Hodgen, ''but the men say they are too
busy to build the church. They have been
putting me off for a long time, but in the
morning we'll make Mr. John promise to
ask the men again if they won't get the
logs ready. ' ' And she tucked the boy once
more in his trundle bed, kissing him good
night and thanking him for his promise
of help.
That little whispered speech of Abe's
as he sat in the open door, bathed in the
summer moonlight, was really the inspi-
ration for the building of Hodgenville's
first church, for the next morning Mr.
THE CHURCH 109
John promised his mother, in Abraham's
presence, that he would see that her dream
of a "house of worship" came true.
Young Lincoln was very happy, not be-
cause a church then meant anything to
him, but because Mrs. Hodgen was
pleased. Abraham now knew the church
was a certainty, because Mr. John had
promised, and Mr. John never forgot his
promises, or failed to keep his word.
Mrs. Hodgen never faltered in her ef-
forts to interest the pioneers in the enter-
prise so dear to her heart ; indeed, as the
days passed, she became more enthusias-
tic, more determined, and though she gave
a building site near the mill, yet she had
much trouble in getting the project
started. The pioneers were busy men and
then, too, most of them believed that the
wide-spreading canopy of heaven was all
the house of worship that was necessary —
that the camp-meeting ground was
sufficient.
Acting on Abraham's suggestion, Mis-
110 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
sus Sarah went to the mill day after day
and talked *' church-building" to every
man who came there, always saying that
the child, Abraham Lincoln, was going to
cut down one small tree each day and
shape the log ready for the builders.
**And surely," she would add, *'if that
boy can do so much for us — if he is will-
ing to work early and late — ^you will cer-
tainly help." In this manner, Mrs. Hod-
gen got many promises and the church
was in time a reality.
*' Missus Sarah," said Abraham, ''when
the church is finished I hope that
preacher who left our house with my
coon skin cap on his head, and never came
back with it, won't come here to preach.
I kindo' believe it was stealing for him to
go away with my cap, and I wouldn't like
to hear him preach, because I'd feel like
he wasn't the right kind of a man to tell
people what God wanted them to do."
''Now, Abraham," admonished Mrs.
Hodgen, "you must be forgiving; you
THE CHURCH 111
must try to feel that the preacher just for-
got to return your cap before he left the
neighborhood, and that he did not intend
to keep it. Then, too, my boy," she con-
tinued, in her gentle manner, "don't you
know the preacher was bald, and the day
cool, and he might have frozen his head
had he gone away bareheaded."
"That's so," answered Abraham, in a
solemn meditative way, "and I reckon his
bald head would have got a little cold ; but
do you know, Missus Sarah, he had better
mend his ways or his bald head will get
mighty hot some of these days. I saw
him doing some other things that weren't
right, and I don't believe the Lord wants
a man like that to be telling the people
what's right and what's wrong. Some
time he might preach a sermon and say it
was all right to take caps and walnuts and
hickory nuts without asking for them."
When John Hodgen made a snare for
Abe, the boy looked at it soberly and then
112 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
threw a stick against the trigger. The
sapling, to which one end of the cord was
tied, flew up with great force, looping the
string tightly around one end of the stick.
*'Now," said Mr. Hodgen, "that is the
way you'll catch them. When Mr. Rab-
bit, or Mr. Coon, or Mr. Opossum nibbles
the bait he'll be caught, and won't get
loose till you go to the snare the next
morning and take the cord from around
his neck."
''Yes, I see," said Abraham, ''but that
thing will choke them to death, and they
might be a long time dying, and I don't
want to catch them that way. I 'd rather
catch them in traps, so I could turn them
loose if they looked very pitiful. I have
turned lots of them loose," he added, then
smilingly: "and I believe they thanked
me when they got back to their homes in
the woods, and told their families that an
ugly boy turned them loose," and there
was a twinkle in Abraham's sober eyes.
"Now, Mr. John," continued the boy,
THE CHURCH 113
**I couldn't sleep at night if I set a snare
like that. It's not fair to fool rabbits and
'possums and things by offering them
something to eat that's going to kill them
almost as quick as they touch it. That
would be a whole lot like somebody wrap-
ping up your sore toe in a rag with rattle
snake poison on the rag. All night I 'd be
thinking of something choking to death
out in the woods. When Missus Sarah
gets her church built and the preachers
come and preach, maybe they'll get some
of the men to quit killing things they
don't need. Please, Mr. John," begged
the boy, "don't show Austin how to make
snares; if he loiew, he'd have them
strangling game every night. ' '
Mr. Hodgen, after trying vainly to
amuse Abraham with the snare, the bow
and arrow, the cross-bow and the rifle, de-
clared he did not believe the boy would
kill anything if he were starving. But the
miller found Abraham very much alive to
the things that interested older people.
114 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Abraham's mind is more than usual,"
Mr. Hodgen would say, "it is so full of as-
tonishing things that at times it's un-
canny. Why, I would rather listen to him
talk than to half the men in the settle-
ment. He always finds something new
along the road and tells me about it every
time he comes to the mill."
"When Mrs. Hodgen asked young Pot-
tinger, of the neighborhood, to help cut
the logs for the church, telling him of
Abe's proposal," said Mr. Gollaher, "his
mother, Mrs. Mary Pottinger, overheard
the request and objected. She told Mrs.
Hodgen that she was afraid of the Lin-
coln boy ; saying that she believed he was
sent to the world by the devil to do some
evil thing; that his mind was even
brighter than her husband's, and that her
husband was * counted a smart man.'
When Mrs. Hodgen called her attention
to Abraham's 'wonderful goodness,' Mrs.
Pottinger threw up her hands and ex-
claimed: 'That's one of the tricks of the
THE CHURCH 115
devil I' When pressed to tell what she
thought might happen, she said that some
day the devil would send a band of In-
dians against the settlement, and use
Abraham Lincoln as his instrument to ac-
complish its destruction.
"But Mrs. Hodgen predicted a great
future for young Abe. She believed he
would become a preacher and deliver his
first sermon in the log church he was then
trying to build, and that he would ulti-
mately become a great and famous di-
vine,'^ continued Mr. GoUaher. "But
Mr. John disagreed with his mother, con-
tending that Abe would ' certainly become
a great judge.' He said Abe's inclination
to measure well before delivering, and to
consider well before going ahead, fitted
him for the woolsack."
"Teach Abraham all you can," was
John Hodgen 's appeal to his mother;
"teach him to read and to write, neven
mind the arithmetic; figuring will nat-
urally follow."
116 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
^'On one of Ms trips to Elizabethtown,
Mr. John bought a volume of ^ sop's
Fables, and when Abe and I made our
next visit to the mill he brought forth the
book and at the same time a small tray
filled with the prettiest bullets I had ever
seen/' declared Lincoln's playmate.
" 'Now,' said Mr. John, *I have a present
for you boys. Here's this book for one of
you and these bullets for the other, but I
can't decide which to give you, Abraham,
or which to give Austin.' 'I don't want
the bullets,' Abe said very quickly, and
just as promptly I growled: 'I don't
want the book.' 'Then,' said Mr. John,
*the question is easily settled.' And he
gave Abe yEsop's Fables, and I took the
bullets. Well, sir, Abe fairly hugged
that book, and thanking Mr. John, he
said: 'Wouldn't swap it for a cow and
calf.' I was equally pleased with the
bright new bullets. And thus it was all
through life," sighed the old man, **Abe
kept on gathering books and reading
them, and I kept on gathering bullets and
THE CHURCH 117
shooting them." Then, as though trying
to justify his life in the woods with his
gun, he said: ''But I've seen the day
when I could shoot a squirrel's eyes out
every time I touched the trigger even if
he was on the highest branch of the tallest
tree in these hills.
''Abe was afraid to take the book home,
lest his father, who still had no patience
with book learning, would find it and de-
stroy it. So Missus Sarah was made the
custodian of these wonderful stories, and
she read them and reread them to Abe un-
til he could repeat many of them word for
word," said Mr. Gollaher, as he turned
the pages of the old Bible he held in his
lap.
"Abe sharpened his ax and went to
work like an experienced woodsman, fell-
ing trees for the church. And when we
reported to Missus Sarah that we had
four logs ready, she gave us a big 'spread'
of blackberry jam on corn-bread,"
laughed old Austin as he recalled young
Austin and his immortal playmate.
CHAPTER XIV
A FEIENDLY CONTEST
Knowing that ^sop now awaited him
at Missus Sarah's, Abe had many reasons
to give his mother for extra trips to the
miU.
**He always wanted me to go along,"
said Mr. Gollaher, "and whenever mother
would let me I accompanied him, but I
didn't hear many of the fables read, be-
cause the woods and Nolynn River were
too attractive. On our way to Hodgen
Mill one day Abe was suddenly attacked
with the old-fashioned * bellyache.' ^It's
mother's green apple pie,' he said, *and it
feels like a knife was ripping through
me. ' So when we came to the Stone House
we stopped and asked for a cup of hot
118
A FRIENDLY CONTEST 119
water with some red pepper in it. The
tea gave Abe relief in a little while and
we were about to leave when he spied a
newspaper lying on a chair. He picked it
up, examined it carefully, and seemed so
much interested that the old woman who
fixed the tea for him asked him if he
would like to take the paper along and
read it. Abe very quickly answered 'Yes-
sum, ' you may be sure. It was a copy of
the paper printed at Bardstown and was
several weeks old, but Abe prized it
highly and guarded it very closely."
Since it was necessary to pass the mill
on the way from the Lincoln to the Hod-
gen home, Abe, Austin and Honey always
stopped to say **Hi" to Mr. John.
"Upon this occasion," said Mr. GoUa-
her, '^a youngster called Freckles who
was loafing around the mill awaiting the
grinding of his corn, threw a stone and
hit Abe's crippled dog. Honey yelped
and Abe cried out :
*'^Whohitmy dogr
120 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
** 'Freckles,' I said.
*' 'Why did you do that, Freckles?*
asked Abe, quicker and hotter than I had
ever heard him speak before.
" 'Because the dog's ugly and I wanted
to hear him holler,' replied Frecldes.
" *Well,' said Abe, 'I am ugly too.
Next time you want to hit somebody ugly,
hit me ; I'll know why you hit me ; Honey
doesn't.' Then Abe walked away and sat
down upon a sack of corn, and patted
Honey. When Freckles approached him,
Abe asked: 'How would you like for
your father to slap you, when you didn't
know what he was slapping you for?
And besides,' he continued, 'if everything
that's ugly ought to be hit, somebody
would be hitting you most of the time, and
maybe lightning might strike you and kill
you. You are uglier than Honey and
meaner than the meanest dog I know. '
"That kind of talk from Abe surprised
me, but I was mighty glad to hear it, be-
cause I used to think some of the bovs
A FRIENDLY CONTEST 121
tried to run over him. I wanted to see
him fight, but he held his temper and
didn't seem to mind the taunts from the
lads down around the mill. But if any-
body mistreated Honey, Abe would show
fight quick enough, and then the boys, I
noticed, would leave him and his dog
alone. He had a funny way of talking to
the lads whenever he meant business,"
chuckled Mr. Gollaher. "It was kind of
mild and yet it was forceful. And when
he cut loose they didn't bother him again
for quite a while."
John Hodgen called Freckles into the
mill and said to him : "If you throw any
more stones at Abraham Lincoln's dog,
there's going to be trouble around here,
and I am going to stand by and watch
Abraham give you a good whipping."
"Abe can't do it," Frecldes muttered.
"Well, let's see," said Mr. Hodgen.
"Now this isn't to be a fight; but a
friendly little contest to see which is the
better man.
122 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Come here, Abe; come here, Freck-
les," called Mr. John. "Now, Freckles,
you say Abraham can't whip you. What
do you say, Abraham?"
"I don't want to fight," answered Lin-
coln without the slightest change of ex-
pression in his sad face.
"But, boys," said Mr. Hodgen, "I told
you this was not to be a fight, but just a
little friendly contest to see which one
would whip if a sure-enough fight should
ever take place. Now," he went on, "I
want to see which one can lift the other
the easiest, by taking hold at the nape of
the neck and the seat of the trousers."
"Ready!" announced both boys.
"Turn around. Freckles; take hold,
Abe; now lift!" the miller commanded.
With ease Abraham held Freckles
aloft.
"Now," said Mr. Hodgen, "see if you
can shake him."
And Abraham shook Freckles till his
teeth chattered.
A FRIENDLY CONTEST 123
When Freckles tried to lift Abraham
in the same way, he failed utterly.
**Now, then, Freckles, you surely don't
think you can whip Abe, do you?" asked
Mr. Hodgen.
**No, sir, I can't whip him and I won't
throw any more rocks at his dog," was
Freckles' honest acknowledgment and
voluntary promise.
** During the excitement," said Mr. Gol-
laher, *'I thought Abe had forgotten
about those fables, but I was mistaken.
Just as soon as he let go of Freckles he
said : *Mr. John, I'm going down to your
house to get Missus Sarah to read to me
out of the book.' As it was about dinner
time, Mr. John went with us.
** * Where's your newspaper'?' I asked,
thinking maybe Abe had forgotten it and
left it at the mill, but he had it folded up
nicely, sticking between the ear-laps of his
cap.
**When we reached the Hodgen home
we found dinner waiting for us, but Abe
124 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
had to show Missus Sarah that old paper
before eating. After we had finished,
she examined it more closely, and found
in it a small notice of the sale of some ne-
groes at Bardstown the month before.
Then Missus Sarah said to Mr. John:
*You might have gone to Bardstown and
bought one of those negro men had you
known of the sale. The work on the farm
is too heavy for the four men and the boy
we now have, and we must buy another
negro. '
*^ *I have heard,' said Abe to Missus
Sarah, 'that some people don't treat their
negroes right. You know those travelers
— the man and his wife — who came
through here not long ago, told us that
they knew an old man who owned
lots of slaves, and that every time one of
them went blind, he soon died ; and every-
body believed the old man killed them to
keep from having to feed them. And
they said, too,' Abe went on, 'that he was
awful mean to them; that he sometimes
A FRIENDLY CONTEST 125
whipped them until they bled. I think
people ought to be good to them, because,
I reckon, they are human beings just like
we are.'
*^That was Abraham Lincoln's first
speech in behalf of the negro, and it was
made not against slavery, of course, but
against cruelty, just as he protested
against cruelty of all kinds," said Mr.
Gollaher. ''We didn't know much about
slavery here in our neighborhood during
the period the Lincolns lived here. "We
were most all too poor to own slaves.
Mrs. Hodgen and her sons owned a few,
and so did the LaRues, but they were good
to their negroes, and the subject of cruelty
to slaves was not discussed in this section
at that time."
CHAPTER XV
A GOOD TIME UP THERE
They had finished the meal, and Abe,
Mr. John and Austin were sitting under
the shade of a tree in the yard, while Mis-
sus Sarah was superintending the clear-
ing of the table. In a little while she
would be there to read to Abraham from
his favorite JEsop. Mr. John had
propped himself against a tree and had
bitten off a cheek-full of tobacco. ** Abe,"
he began, *'you and Austin will tell me the
truth if I ask you a question, won't you?"
"Yes, Mr. John," both answered at
once.
"Have either of you ever taken a chew
of tobacco?"
"Once," answered Austin.
126
A GOOD TIME UP THERE 127
**Well, did it make you sick, Austin?"
asked Mr. Hodgen.
"No, sir," was the emphatic answer.
**If it didn't make you sick you will
very likely be a user of tobacco the rest of
your life," said Mr. Hodgen.
"No, sir, it never does make me sick,"
Austin assured him.
"But you just told me that you had
taken but one chew," said Mr. Hodgen,
"and now you tell me that it never does
make you sick, which answer indicates
that you have taken more than one chew."
"Yes, sir, I was just going to tell you
that I have taken more than one chew, be-
cause I have been having the toothache,
and mother told me I could put tobacco
around my gums to ease the pain. It's
mighty good for that," Austin explained.
"Now, Abe, how about you?" Mr. Hod-
gen asked.
"No, sir, never, Mr. John," Abraham
very earnestly answered.
"Do you think you'd like to learn?"
128 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"I might."
**Wliy do you think you might?"
** Because they say it will keep teeth
from getting rotten and falling out."
"I have heard that, too," said Mr. Hod-
gen, "but I don't take much stock in such
a claim. Did you boys know there isn't any
kind of animal that will chew tobacco?"
"Grandfather had a billy-goat a long
time ago," Austin replied, "that chewed
up tobacco stems and swallowed them, but
it soon killed him, or something killed
him, and grandfather said he thought it
was the tobacco."
"Well," Mr. Hodgen didn't smile, "if
tobacco kills goats, it certainly would kill
boys, so both of you had better leave it
alone."
"I don't like it," said Abraham. "I
don't believe I'll ever try it."
But Missus Sarah now interrupted.
She had the ^sop book in her hands, and
Abe straightway forgot tobacco and ev-
erything else.
A GOOD TIME UP THERE 129
^' While motlier reads to Abraham you
and I, Austin, will go feed the pigs, then
we'll all go back to the mill, for you boys
must start home early."
*'I'll tell you what I am going to do,"
announced Abraham a little later, as they
were on their way to the mill, ''I am going
to buy you out one of these days. I am
going away for about twenty-five years,
and then I am coming back to buy the
mill, and live here the rest of my life and
grind corn for the people, just like you
are grinding it, Mr. John. You would be
old then, and you and Missus Sarah could
live with us."
**In twenty-five years, my boy, I may
not be here, and Missus Sarah will surely
be on the other side of the Great River.
Twenty-five years is a long time and I
may be way up yonder where the stars
shine. Do you think I am good enough
to go to Heaven?" he asked, smiling.
Young Abraham looked up at Mr. Johii
130 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
and there were tears in his eyes, but he
made no reply. He knew none was
necessary.
*^ We strolled on through the meadow in
silence," said Mr. Gollaher. ^'Abe was
absorbed and obviously meditating. That
reference to crossing the Great River had
saddened him and given him food for
thought. To my surprise, and to the sur-
prise of Mr. Hodgen, he finally said: 'I
wish that woman at the Stone House
hadn't given me that old newspaper; then
I wouldn't have thought about that old
man killing his blind slaves. ' Then, turn-
ing to Mr. John, Abe said: *If I were in
Heaven I'd want God to take you, and
mother and father and sister Sarah, and
Missus Sarah right away, too, so we could
have a good time up there together.
"When God wants a sure-enough friend in
Heaven He'll send an angel after you, Mr.
John. '
"Well, sir," continued Mr. Gollaher,
*^I have never seen anybody, from that
A GOOD TIME UP THERE 131
day to this, appreciate anything more
than Mr. Hodgen appreciated that re-
mark from Abe. He stopped there in the
meadow and put his big strong arms
around the boy and hugged him. His
voice was too husky to talk, I guess.
*' After a time, he smiled and asked:
*What about Austin? Would you have
him brought up to Heaven right away, or
would you let him stay here for a while
longer?'
** *I might ask God to bring him up
there, and I might not,' answered Abe.
*If he wanted to come I guess I would ask
God to let him in, but if he wanted to stay
here I would leave him alone until I
thought he was killing too many things of
the woods, then I would beg God to take
him — whether Austin wanted to come or
not' "
CHAPTER XVI
THE NICKNAME
The old gum-spring at the foot of the
hill — that hill upon which stood the log
grist mill of John Hodgen — ^was a favorite
spot with the thirsty traveler who passed
that way. Growing around the spring
and bending over it was a cluster of tall
willows, which protected it from the sum-
mer sun, and beneath the willows was
a bench made of a split log, upon which
the weary might rest while he quenched
his thirst. Upon every tree, a gourd was
hooked over the stob of a limb. The
spring was walled around with smooth
gray rocks and over it, upon four cedar
posts, was a rough moss-covered roof.
The spring was John Hodgen 's pride.
132
THE NICKNAME 133
It was his standing invitation to all who
came near to drink and rest. Many peo-
ple in the neighborhood — more than a
century ago — pronounced the water heal-
ing, and came with jugs and carried it
away to their homes. The spring is still
there, but it has no care-taker and is now
no more than any other spring along
Nolynn River, except it is generally
known that the child Lincoln played
around it and drank of its water.
The miller permitted no rowdyism
around the spring, and dabbling in it was
positively forbidden. John Hodgen had
worked to make the place inviting, and he
insisted that all visitors ''behave them-
selves" while enjoying his gima-spring's
refreshing hospitality. Old man Kastor
— one of the wits of the neighborhood —
used to lift his hat and bow his head be-
fore taking a drink, saying: "This water
is worth praying for."
The boys who played around the old
spring over a century ago all had their
134 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
nicknames, even as the boys of to-day.
Jimmie Ashcraft, for example, was called
Freckles for obvious reasons, and Austin
Gollaber was known as Buster, because lie
was big and fat and strong.
Four or five boys of the woods — *^corn-
f etchers and meal-to ters" Mr. Hodgen
called them — were grouped around the
spring one hot summer day. Among them
was Abraham Lincoln. He was standing
close to the little log trough through which
the spring water trickled into its well-
like rock walls. Old man Pottinger rode
up, alighted from his mule, took a gourd
from a stob and said: "Stand aside,
*High,' I want a drink." He was speak-
ing to Abraham Lincoln. The boys snig-
gered and laughed — Abraham had been
nicknamed and the youngsters were
elated. Mr. Pottinger explained that the
name was appropriate for two reasons:
one, that Abe was extremely high for his
age, and the other, that he met everybody
with the salutation^'Hil'^ "So, Abe," he
THE NICKNAME 135
said good-naturedly, *'we'll just call you
High after this. ' '
The boys began at once to use the new
name every time they spoke to young Lin-
coln, and they made it convenient to speak
frequently, since they could easily see he
did not like the appellation. He made no
protest, but he walked away and sat down
upon a rock and covered his face with his
hands.
"Abe," said Austin, as the two climbed
the hill to the old mill, "I haven't teased
you and I'm not going to, but you
oughtn't get mad at the boys for calling
you High; that'll just make them bother
you that much more, until we'll have to
fight them, and we don't want to do that."
Abe made no reply to Austin's advice
further than to say he wasn't mad, but
when the two reached the mill he told Mr.
Hodgen that he had been nicknamed
High, and that he did not like it, adding
with a shamefaced smile: **I know I'm
high, and my legs and arms are outland-
136 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
ish, and I'm bigger than any boy my age,
but I don't want to be called High."
**Why, my dear boy," exclaimed the
miller, *'the meaning of high is lofty, big,
great ! You ought to be pleased. You are
tall and big, of course, but the name does
not apply to your height; it applies to
your character, to your goodness of heart,
and to your superiority over other boys.
Don't you like the big, tall, straight trees
of the woods better than the small, knotty,
little ones? You are a big, tall, straight
tree, Abraham, and you tower above the
boys who tease you; they are scrub oaks
and sassafras saplings when compared
with you."
"But, Mr. John, I don't want to be
called High ; I am ashamed of myself be-
cause I am so high," Abraham answered
in his quiet emphatic way.
"Surely, Abraham," said Mr. Hodgen,
"you didn't leave the spring because you
were afraid of those boys ! Did you ? " he
asked quietly.
THE NICKNAME 137,
*'No, sir, Mr. John, I am not afraid of
all of them," Abraham said simply with-
out animation.
'^Then, take the bucket, go down to the
spring and get some fresh water for me,"
and with that Mr. Hodgen handed Abra-
ham the water bucket.
Slowly the boy walked down the hill to
the spring. His tormentors were still
there. Austin started to follow, but the
miller called him back. Before Abe
reached the foot of the hill there was a
shout of "Here comes High," but Abra-
ham moved on with his customary long
indifferent swiDg.
Mr. Hodgen smilingly watched from
the mill window, and Austin stood by him
greatly agitated.
Now, Abraham was anything but a
fighter; he would not even quarrel. He
talked so very little that there was no op-
portunity for dispute with his boy asso-
ciates, and, while attempts had been made
to involve him in boyish difficulties, he
138 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
did no more than look into the faces of
his tormentors and walk away.
A youngster by the name of Carl Vitti-
toe approached Abraham as he neared the
spring, the bucket swinging from his arm.
**High," said young Vittitoe, "I have
dropped my knife into the spring ; the wa-
ter's too deep for me to get it, but your
arms are so long you can reach it easy
enough."
Abraham put the bucket under the wa-
ter spout, ** caught" it full and started
back toward the mill with that same indif-
ferent, characteristic swing. The Vitti-
toe boy grabbed him by the arm and
ripped a big hole in his shirt-sleeve. Very
quietly Abe set the bucket down, and just
as quietly he wound his long arms around
young Vittitoe, carried him to the spring
and soused him, headforemost, into the
water. When he brought the boy up,
dripping and sputtering, he was holding
his knife tightly in his wet hand.
Then Abraham said to the boy : **Carl,
THE NICKIjf AMB 135
when father has a piece of timber that is
too short, he splices it, so I had to splice
my arm by using yours/' And he picked
up his bucket and went to the mill, never
once looking back.
*^See here, Abraham," said Mr. Hod-
gen, feigning anger, '* don't you know I
don't want you to play in that spring?
Didn't I see you dipping Carl in the
water?"
**Yes, sir, but I wasn't playing," Abra-
ham answered.
"Oh I you were fighting, were you?"
*'No, sir, I wasn't fighting; I was help-
ing Carl get his knife out of the spring."
After this episode the boys called him
Abe.
CHAPTER XYII
THE EXPLORERS
Austin Gollaher^s grandfather had
gone with a raft of pelts to Louisville, and
Austin was staying with his grandmother
farther up among the Knob Creek hills.
Abraham was lonely — pathetically lonely
with Austin away. His only diversion
was to wander over the hills and through
the woods, with Honey following at his
heels. It was now spring, and since Abra-
ham could handle a hoe or a spade
fairly well, much of his time was spent in
the fields.
Austin away, Abraham and Honey
made the weekly trip to the mill alone.
Saturday was always the busiest "grind-
ing day" and there was a rush among the
140
THE EXPLORERS 141
children of the pioneers ^'to get there
first, ' ' for they knew that the bag of corn
to reach the mill first went to the hopper
first; that rule of taking them as they
came was always closely observed.
"Everywhere Abraham goes Honey
goes, and I'm glad of it," said Mrs. Lin-
coln to Mrs. Gollaher one morning as the
boy and the dog set off for the mill. *'He
may fool away more time by having
Honey with him, but I believe he is some
protection; at least, I'm not so uneasy
when I know the two are together. ' '
When Abraham dropped his sack of
corn upon the mill floor, Mr. Hodgen
said : "Late again ; look at the bags ahead
of you; it will be sundown before your
turn comes, and I'll have to take you home
again. I can't let you go through the
dark woods alone."
"I am not afraid, Mr. John, and
neither is Honey, ' ' answered the boy.
"But, Abraham," said Mr. Hodgen,
somewhat out of humor, "why do you fool
142 THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN
your time away? You must get here
earlier. You have seen these hills and
hollows hundreds of times and I can't un-
derstand what you find to keep you so
long on the road."
''Well, Mr. John," began Abraham,
*' Honey got a 'possum in a hollow stump,
and I couldn't get him to leave it, and I
couldn't leave Honey. I wanted to get
here early to-day, but I just couldn't
make Honey hurry."
Late in the afternoon Abraham's meal
was sacked, and Mr. Hodgen blew three
times on a cane-pole whistle. That was
Abe's signal, and he knew it well and al-
ways listened for it. But this time he did
not reply. Again and again the whistle
was blown, but there was no response.
Inquiry among the boys developed the
fact that Abe had not been seen for two
or three hours ; that then he was sitting on
the roots of a big tree, looking out upon
the mill pond.
Standing upon a high bank, alarmed
THE EXPLORERS 143
and apprehensive, John Hodgen halloed
and gazed down into the green waters of
Nolynn River as though to arouse Abe,
who could not swim, from the bottom of
the stream. He called at the top of hia
voice : * * Abraham ! Abraham ! Abraham ! ' '
Out in the middle of the river a lazy
muskrat lounged, and John Hodgen,
thinking in his excitement that it was the
top of the boy's coonskin cap, plunged
into the water, diving where the muskrat
was lounging.
From a messenger sent to his home, he
learned that Abraham had been there but
had left three hours before, presumably
to go to the mill. Eor an hour he contin-
ued the search and then he sent a man to
the Lincoln cabin to notify Abraham's
parents and the Gollahers. They were
asked to report to the mill, where "they
would decide upon a plan of action.
With anxious faces, pale in the light of
their pine-knot torches, they soon gath-
ered at the mill where many pioneers and
144 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
their families, having heard that Thomas
Lincoln's boy Abraham was lost, had pre-
ceded them. Mr. Lincoln was greatly ex-
cited. Thomas Gollaher and Abraham
Enlow tried to encourage him though
sadly apprehensive themselves.
Mrs. Lincoln rubbed her poor white
hands and prayed. **Mr. Hodgen," she
asked, **have you seen the dog? Was
Honey with Abraham when he came to
the mill?"
*' Yes, the dog was with him."
*'Then," she said, ''both have been
drowned, or have been stolen by Indians
who sometimes pass over their old trails
on their way north. If Honey is alive, he
will come home, or back to the mill."
Preparations were made for an all-
night hunt, but none knew where to begin
the search. They could not drag the river
at night; so it was finally decided to go
first through the woods surrounding the
Hodgen home.
Mrs. Lincoln stood under the shed-like
THE EXPLORERS 145
porch of the house, where they stopped a
moment while Mr. John got into some dry
clothes, and was looking out into the som-
ber depths of the grove which seemed to
hover over her like a hideous monster,
ready to strike her down with its big
hands. Somewhere in the depths of the
forest she saw, in her imagination, an In-
dian war-dance, and her thoughts turned
back to the time when she, a little girl, was
stolen by the savages. Then, awakened
suddenly from her terrifying reverie, she
cried out with all her strength: '^Here's
Honey! Here's Honey!"
From somewhere out of the night the
dog came. He whined at her feet and
looked up appealingly into the eyes of
first one and then another, until, finding
Mr. John, he jumped upon the miller and
barked again and again, squarely in his
face.
"Gather your torches!" John Hodgen
commanded, "and we'll follow where the
dog leads."
146 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
With a yelp, the panting Honey circled
the corner of the house and dashed
through the garden, barking as he ran.
Everybody, as everybody usually does in
such circumstances, expected the worst;
expected the dog to lead them to Abra-
ham's mangled body, though many a si-
lent prayer went up for the boy's safety.
To the north and west of the Hodgen
house Nolynn River circled, and it was
straight to the river that Honey led the
searching party.
*'I know where the boy is!" shouted
John Hodgen joyously. ^*Why didn't I
think of it before ? He's lost in that con-
founded cave ; we'll soon find him and I'll
bet he's not hurt a bit. But I can't imag-
ine what the boy meant by going into that
hole; I have never known him to do a
thing like that before."
When they reached the cave, John Hod-
gen commanded every one to be quiet
while he blew his whistle three times.
There was a moment's anxious silence.
.a
Pi
THE EXPLORERS 147
Then from somewhere back in the cave
came a faint voice :
"Here I am, but I'm fastened!"
"I'll get you out," cried Mr. John.
"Your meal is ready and you ought to
have been on your way home a long time
ago."
When he at last reached Abe it was to
find him tightly wedged between two
large rocks, and when the miller pulled
Abe groaned, because as he afterward
said; "Some of my hide was coming off."
"It's a mystery," declared Mr. Hod-
gen, "how the boy ever got himself in such
a fix. For a while I thought we were go-
ing to need sledges to break the rock, but
when I found it would be impossible to
strike hard enough to do that in those
close quarters, I just decided to pull Abra-
ham out, even if I had to skin him."
Young Lincoln was very much sur-
prised to find the large searching party
at the mouth of the cave. He had been
busy trying to squeeze through and
148 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
thought little about the length of time he
had been in the cave. After he had been
hugged by his mother and Missus Sarah
it was his father's time to be a little "af-
fectionate." But John Hodgen inter-
ceded, saying:
**Now, Tom, Abraham is my prisoner,
and I want you to give me your word that
you won't whip the boy when you get him
home, that you won't even scold him. The
experience he has passed through is les-
son enough. He'll never go into that cave
again."
"I came home from my grandfather's
late in the afternoon of the day Abe was
lost," said Mr. Gollaher, "but I could not
go with the searching party because they
made me stay with my little sister. But
I told mother they needn't have any fear,
that Abe would turn up safe and sound."
The next day when the boys were dis-
cussing the adventure, Abe said: "Now,
you see, Austin, Honey has paid me back
for mending his broken leg."
CHAPTER XVIII
THE FOX AND THE TRAP
*^ There is no use to worry or be sad and
cry," said Abraham one day as he wiped
the tears from his eyes first with one and
then the other of his shirt-sleeves. "It's
foolish, but I just can't help it, Austin — I
just can't help it when I get to feeling like
the little Brownfield children felt when
their mother died."
*'What you crying about? What you
talking about?" asked Austin
impatiently.
* * Nothing much, ' ' Abe answered. " I 'm
just down in the mouth, like mother says
she used to get before we moved over here
from the Cave Spring Farm."
*'Tell me what's the matter, Abe," said
Austin kindly.
149
150 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Well, I reckon I'm crying because fa-
ther keeps on talking about moving to
* Indian Anner,' or somewhere a long
ways from here, and I don't want to go
and neither does mother. And I'm afraid
he won't let me take Honey. Then I never
will be happy. I believe Honey knows
father doesn't want him around, and that
mother and I are worried about some-
thing, because when we talk about moving
he just looks up at us for a minute or two,
then kind o' whines and goes off and curls
up in a corner. Of course, I know if we
go and I have to leave Honey here you
will treat him all right, but he would be
awful lonesome, because he loves me more
than anybody knows."
**But, Abe," said Austin, "you have
been sad about one thing and another ever
since you were a baby. Mother says you
looked worried the day after you were
born. She says you are now as big as a
fourteen-year-old boy, and that you
oughtn't to cry so much. Why, she said
THE FOX AND THE TRAP 151
she caught you crying yesterday when she
chopped a chicken's head off, so's we
could have it for sister's birthday dinner.
You ate plenty of the chicken just the
same," Austin added laughingly.
** People just can't know my feelings,
and I reckon they never will. I wasn't
crying about the chicken ; I was crying be-
cause I felt bad about moving away from
here. Of course, after the chicken was
dead and cooked," continued Abe, **I ate
some of it."
Perhaps the hardest whipping Abia-
ham ever received from his father was for
liberating a red fox from a trap. Mr.
Lincoln had not been well for several days
and his wife insisted that he take Abra-
ham with him when he went to visit his
traps, scattered through the hills and
along the banks of Knob Creek. Thomas
Lincoln was an expert trapper, and upon
this particular occasion was unusually
successful. He had caught a coon and a
fox, and had about finished skinning
152 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
them, when Abraham, who had gone ahead
to the next trap and dibcovered it held a
fine red fox, deliberately lifted the trap
door and invited the fox to enjoy his
freedom.
"Why did you do that?" demanded Mr.
Lincoln as he stepped up to Abraham,
who stood in pleasant contemplation of
the open trap door.
** Father," replied the boy in his most
appealing tones, "wasn't two animals
enough for one day? Just think how
happy that old red fox is, to be out in the
woods again."
But Mr. Lincoln didn't see it that way,
and gave Abraham a cuff on the side of
the head, and when they got home a sound
whipping, over the protest of Mrs. Lin-
coln. After quiet was restored Mrs. Lin-
coln reproved Abraham in that gentle,
sweet way of hers, and warned him that
he must never be guilty of such a thing
again.
THE FOX AND THE TRAP 153
"But, mother, I just couldn't help it,"
he said. "I knew it wasn't right — I just
couldn't help it, and I reckon I'd have
done it even had I thought father would
have skinned me like he did the fox and
the coon he caught. I'm mighty sorry I
displeased father, but I'm glad that fox
is back in the woods with its family."
Abraham had, a number of times be-
fore, turned loose his father's ''catches,"
greatly to Austin's disgust, who threat-
ened to tell on him if he didn't stop it.
The two boys got into an argument over
the right and wrong of the matter and
the question was finally left to Mrs. Gol-
laher for settlement. She very promptly
agreed with Austin that Abe was in the
wrong, and said: "Tell me, Abraham,
why do you do such foolish things 1"
"Because," the boy replied, "we have
no right to more than we need. There
ain't no use in killing those animals
and birds; and I don't like to see them
154 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
suffer. That is my reason for letting
them ouf
But after this, Abraham never mo-
lested his father's traps, though he wasn't
convinced that it was right or legitimate
to catch more than was actually needed.
CHAPTER XIX
THE GOAT AND THE COAT
In the yard of the Hodgen home be-
neath the great boughs of walnut and
hickory trees, was a crudely constructed
table, surrounded by benches made of
split logs. It was ' ' designed ' ' and erected
by John Hodgen for one purpose only:
to bear the feast that the miller annually
spread for his friends, who were invited
from far and near to come, eat and be
neighborly.
On the third Saturday in July, the Lin-
colns, the GoUahers, the Enlows, the
Brownfields, the Walters, the Kirkpat-
ricks, the LaRues and many others were
expected to gather for the banquet with-
out formal invitation, and to make merry
155
156 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
with their friends and neighbors. The
day became generally known as the "Hod-
gen-Dinner-Day"; the people kept it in
mind and the attendance grew larger each
year.
It was at one of these Hodgen dinners,
where the community's needs were often
discussed, that it was decided to build a
schoolhouse and a church. Pledges were
made not in writing, for a man's word
given at John Hodgen 's table was never
broken. The church and schoolhouse
were built, and Mrs. Hodgen saw her
dream fulfilled. Then finally a town was
*'laid off" and named Hodgenville, in
honor of Robert Hodgen.
''Right there where the old brick
clerk's office stands," said Mr. Gollaher,
*'in front of the court-house, at the foot
of the hill, I saw Abe's dog. Honey, have
a fight with a coon. I poked the coon out
of a hollow tree and Honey grabbed him —
grabbed him by the throat and killed
THE GOAT AND THE COAT 157
him.* When I came up to the mill, two
hundred yards away, dragging the coon
after me, Abe looked at Honey and Honey
looked at Abe, then Abe said: *You
didn't have to do it. Honey; you didn't
have to kill that coon.' "
The dinner was on in earnest ; the table
piled high with venison, turkey, a young-
pig and numerous **side dishes." Every-
body was happy. Abe and Austin were
eating from the top of a stump, and, like
the grown-ups at the big table, were dis-
cussing the needs of the community. Aus-
tin wanted a gunsmith to move into the
neighborhood, while Abe wanted a school-
teacher, and there was a rather warm dis-
cussion as to which would be the more
valuable acquisition.
A billy-goat was grazing in the yard.
He was one of John Hodgen's pets. In
fact, he was petted and made over by ev-
•A Liucoln monument has been erected where those
old buildings stood — upon the spot where Austin and
Honey caught the coon in the hollow tree.
158 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
erybody whose sense of smell was not too
acute. Abraham was fond of the goat, so
fond, indeed, that his mother made him,
on one occasion, go for a full day in noth-
ing but his long-tailed shirt until she
could wash and dry his trousers. Abra-
ham had only one pair of trousers and
when his mother, once each month,
* 'freshened" them in Knob Creek, he was
forced to wear a long shirt, or apron, un-
til the cleansing ceremony was over.*
Old Mr. Kirkpatrick, one of the regular
guests at the annual Hodgen dinner, was
a very dignified and impressive individ-
ual, even in the matter of dress. He was
the owner of a coat, fashioned somewhat
after the style of the more modern Prince
Albert, which he had brought with him
from Virginia when he moved into the
community several years before and
which he had guarded jealously for some-
thing like a quarter of a century. Mr.
•Long shirts, or aprons, were worn by boys In
those days and it was not unusual during the summer
to meet a boy upon the highway in his shirt-tail.
THE GOAT AND THE COAT 159
Kirkpatrick never donned the famous
garment except upon a state occasion
such as the Hodgen dinner, or when he
was expected to take some prominent part
in the camp-meeting services.
The day was hot and all the pioneers ex-
cept Mr. Kirkpatrick were in their shirt-
sleeves. He was sweltering in the historic
coat, buttoned tightly to the neck. After
much persuasion, his wife succeeded in
getting him to remove it, when she care-
fully folded the "garment of state" and
placed it in the low forks of a small tree.
The school and church were under dis-
cussion, as was also a project to improve
the roads to Bardstown and Elizabeth-
town, and Mr. Kirkpatrick had become so
deeply interested in the welfare speeches
that, although the dinner was over, he had
forgotten he was in his shirt-sleeves and
was not in the least embarrassed because
of his undignified appearance. The meet-
ing was drawing to a close; some of the
far-distant visitors had already departed.
160 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Wife," commanded Mr. Kirkpatrick,
*' bring my coat and we will be going. "
There was a smothered scream from
Mrs. Kirkpatrick; she seemed about to
swoon. The billy-goat had feasted on the
tail of Mr. Kirkpatrick 's coat, had, in
fact, chewed it off almost to the buttons
at the waistband. To say that the old gen-
tleman was disturbed but lightly ex-
presses it. He was ruined, heart-broken,
he actually sobbed and then and there
made a solemn vow never again to try to
**fix himself up to look like a gentleman" ;
that thenceforth he would dress as the
common herd dressed. And he kept his
word. He became a sort of backwoods
"raggedy man," uncouth and unkempt.
Mr. Hodgen and his mother were cha-
grined over the ungentlemanly behavior
of the goat, and the miller energetically
applied the lash.
"What are you doing that for?" asked
'Abraham with some show of excitement.
*' Why, Mr. John, don't you know the goat
THE GOAT AND THE COAT 161
thought he had as much right to eat Mr.
Kirkpatrick's coat-tail as Mr. Kirkpat-
rick had to eat the pig you had on the
table r'
*'You must get rid of that goat," inter-
rupted Mrs. Hodgen.
*'Take him, Abraham," said Mr. Hod-
gen, ''he will carry your corn to the mill
and your meal back home."
Thus through the misfortune of Mi'.
Kirkpatrick, Abraham Lincoln became
the owner of a billy-goat — a piece of prop-
erty he had long coveted.
"It seems to me," said Thomas Lincoln,
"that Abraham has too many pets. He
has a dog and a coon, and now the goat."
"Let him have it," said Mr. Hodgen.
"It won't be in the way, and you haven't
a long-tail coat, Tom."
"That's true," replied Mr. Lincoln,
"but if that goat should form an appetite
for trousers and eat up my only pair I'd
be in a bad fix."
Abraham did not speak while the dis-
162 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
cussion between his father and Mr. Hod-
gen was going on, but when it was finally
settled that he could accept the gift he
said: "I'm mighty glad he's mine, and
I don't think father will mind the goat
much when he gets used to him; all ani-
mals, even people, have a funny smell. A
horse may not like something about a
man, but just suppose he'd try to throw
the man every time he rode him. It's
best for men and animals not to notice
things they don't like in each other."
"It was a big job," said Mr. Gollaher,
"to take the goat home that afternoon.
He did lots of cutting up, and was some-
times inclined to use his head in urging
his objection to the change of residence.
To the surprise of both Abe and myself,
Mr. Lincoln helped us when Billy became
too unruly. However, at one time during
the trip home I thought the jig was up.
Mr. Lincoln had stooped over to tie his
shoe, and the goat, breaking loose from
Abe, made a center drive. Well, it was
THE GOAT AND THE COAT 163
funny; Mrs. Lincoln laughed and I got
behind a tree and fairly screamed. But
Abe looked as solemn as a judge. He was
too badly scared to laugh ; he thought the
goat's doom was at hand. But to our sur-
prise and gratification, Mr. Lincoln be-
gan to smile, then he said: 'I have de-
cided to try to keep from getting mad
over small matters.'
*'Abe and I were lagging behind coax-
ing the goat, and I had begun to wish that
he hadn't eaten the tail off of Mr. Kirk-
patrick's coat.
** 'Austin, I believe father did get a lit-
tle religion during camp-meeting,' said
Abe. 'He must or he'd have kicked Billy
all the way back to Mr. John's. I was
scared. Do you think he smells bad?'
Abraham asked dryly.
'* 'Well, I reckon he does,' I answered.
*But mother says goats keep away certain
kinds of sickness from folks and that
horses and mules never get sick if a goat
stays in the field with them.' "
164 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
For several days the boys were puzzled
over Mr. Lincoln's friendliness toward
Billy; he was seen several times to pat
him on the head, and never once did he of-
fer to kick him. But it soon developed
that somebody had told Mr. Lincoln that
it was good luck to own a goat. Now, Abra-
ham's father was not super-supersti-
tious, but he evidently believed it worth
while to be a little courteous toward the
goat, hoping that Billy might be the
means of helping him over some of life's
rough places.
CHAPTER XX
THE RESCUE
The Rolling Fork, a tempestuous little
river, separated LaRue from Nelson
County. It was a most dangerous stream
and numbered its victims by the hun-
dreds. Before the bridge-building era,
sign-boards at every ford warned the
traveler not to try to cross over if the wa-
ter was colored with mud. Those who
failed to heed often paid for their
stubbornness.
Thomas Lincoln was made overseer of
that paii; of the ridge-road which led from
Hodgen's Mill to the Rolling Fork, a dis-
tance of eight or ten miles. He was en-
thusiastic over the honor bestowed upon
him by the Hardin County Court and
spent much of his time riding a small
165
166 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
mule along the road, mapping out in his
mind methods of improvement. Late one
evening he came home drenched, muddy
and highly excited, and announced that he
had lost his mule and pretty nearly his
own life. He had attempted to ford the
river; the mule, a small one, could not
carry his rider, and in a few moments,
went down. Mr. Lincoln was hurled to
the opposite side of the river, where he
seized the overhanging limb of a small
tree and pulled himself ashore. So out-
raged was he that he threatened to sue
Hardin County for the loss of the mule,
but when convinced that such a suit would
be futile, because he had no business on
the Nelson County side of the river, he
dropped the matter and resigned as over-
seer of the road. The loss of the mule was
a severe one, since it was the only work
animal Mr. Lincoln possessed.
On one occasion Abraham and Austin
Gollaher, with their fathers and one or
THE RESCUE 167
two neighbors, walked four miles to the
Rolling Fork to see the high waters rush-
ing over the lowlands and tearing through
the valleys like a yellow snake.
** Austin,'' Abe said thoughtfully, ^'that
water acts like something has made it
mad, and it is taking its spite out on the
trees and rocks and hills. I call it the
*Mad River.' " Then he turned his eyes
away from the muddy terrifying water to
the pleasanter sight of the quiet valleys
that had not yet been inundated.
"Look, father, look down yonder!" he
suddenly exclaimed, tugging at his fa-
ther's coat sleeve. *' There's a mule down
there with something on its back, and I
don't see any man with it."
** You are right," said Mr. Lincoln ; and
the party of sight-seers hurried to the foot
of the hill, forgetting the river in their
eagerness to investigate the mystery of
the mule.
A sack strapped to its back contained
some pans and cups and a few small tools.
168 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
The pioneers were puzzled but at the same
time convinced that a traveler had been
caught in the current of the river and had
perished. It was decided that the mule
should become the property of Thomas
Lincoln, if the owner could not be found,
because it was first seen by Abraham.
As Mr. Lincoln needed a mule, he was
much elated over what he considered his
good fortune and exclaimed: *'The river
took my mule from me, now it brings me
another. God has been good to me during
the past year."
*'But, father," Abraham said in his
quiet way, *'God didn't have anything to
do with your getting the mule, because the
man who owned it must have lost his life
in the river."
Mr. Lincoln did not like this reminder
that he had gained the mule at the cost of
a human life and was about to reprimand
his son, but Mr. Gollaher averred that as
Abe had found the mule he had a right to
express himself on the subject.
THE RESCUE 169
"Be quiet a minute," exclaimed
Brownfield, one of the now homeward
bound party; *'I heard somebody
calling. ' ^
*'Help!" came a cry from the woods.
*' Shout again!" was the answer from a
half dozen throats, and following the di-
rection of the sound, the pioneers soon
came upon a man propped against a tree.
His clothing was wet and muddy and
torn, and his face was gaunt from hunger,
but the sight of kindly people around him
seemed to revive him and he said in a low
husky voice :
**My name is Jonathan Keith; I was
caught in the current of the stream day
before yesterday, in the afternoon, and I
have been in the forest ever since without
food or shelter. I reckon my companion
and his mule were drowned."
He was informed that the mule had
been found, but that there was no sign of
his rider. The unfortunate man then ex-
plained that he and his friend Wilson,
170 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
both of North Carolina, were prospecting,
and that when they came to the river they
attempted to ride the mule across, one be-
hind the other, but that hardly were they
in the water than they were caught in a
swift undercurrent and hurled to what
seemed certain death. Mr. Keith said
that he fought the river and its whirlpools
until he reached the bank and pulled him-
self out, but that his companion and the
mule went down.
**Then," said Thomas Lincoln, ** maybe
this ain't his mule."
"Was the mule bareback, or did he have
something strapped to him?" asked Mr.
Gollaher.
*'He had a sack with some cups and
pans and some small tools in it, strapped
to his back," was the answer.
*'Then," said Mr. Gollaher, 'Hhe mule
we found was the property of your com-
panion, and in case of his death it should,
in my opinion, fall to you, if not claimed
by relatives of Mr. "Wilson."
THE RESCUE 171
To this Mr. Lincoln very readily
agreed, and the unfortunate stranger was
assisted to the Lincoln home where he was
told he might remain until a search could
be made for the lost companion. Several
days later, the body was found in the
prongs of a small tree two miles from the
ford where he met death.
*'Stay right here with me during the
winter, Mr. Keith, and help me with my
traps,'' invited Mr. Lincoln, **and I. will
give you a share. And," he continued,
*'if you will stay with me through the
summer and use the mule in cultivating
the crop, I will give you half."
Keith agreed, and so became a fixture
in the community. Indeed, he never left
it. But Jonathan Keith was not success-
ful as a farmer ; he preferred to make bas-
kets of willow and buckets of cedar and to
do odd jobs of tinkering here and there.
He and Abraham became good friends,
for he too believed that the unnecessary
slaughter of game was all wrong, and was
172 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
of the opinion that every boy should learn
to read and write.
^^Mr. Keith was a mighty good man,"
said Mr. Gollaher, ''he was patient and
kind, and all of the children in our com-
munity liked him. He taught Abe and me
how to make small willow baskets, and one
time we sent six or eight of them to
Bardstown and swapped them for some
fishing hooks and lines."
CHAPTER XXI
honey's old master
Within" a dozen feet of them mumbling
to himself and peeping mysteriously from
behind a tree stood a little man, pinched
of face and stoop-shouldered, frightful to
look upon. His yellow, shaggy, dog-like
hair fell over his eyes and ears, and there
was a scar half circling from the corner
of his left eye to his chin.
The stranger's presence was inexplain-
able ; it seemed as if he must have sprung
from a hole in the ground, and Abe and
Austin were both somewhat startled. The
hair on Honey's back bristled; his mouth
curled, and he growled through set teeth,
ready for a battle royal. Instinct warned
him that he faced an enemy.
^'Honey, behave yourself!" com-
173
174 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
manded Abe when he had recovered from
the first surprise. But Honey only-
growled the more fiercely. Abe put his
arm around the dog's neck and tried to
quiet him, but Honey was not so easily
appeased; he had fight in him and Abe
had to cling tightly to keep him from
springing on the stranger.
The ugly, dirty, little man seemed be-
wildered, but he spoke to the dog and
snapped his fingers at him in an effort
to make friends, though there was no in-
clination on the part of Honey to be
friendly.
**Go away, or he will tear you to
pieces," warned Austin; but the man did
not move.
** Where did you get that dog?" But
before Abe or Austin could answer he con-
tinued : ^ ' I believe on my soul it 's my dog
Whistle, come back to life. Whistle, don't
you know me? Don't you know your old
master? Come to me. Whistle; I want
you. I want you to forgive me. "
HONEY'S OLD MASTER 175
But Honey only snapped and growled
the louder.
** Where 'd you get the dog? Where 'd
you get my Whistle?" the little man in-
quired pathetically.
Abe and Austin were too astonished to
answer; they were quite convinced now
that the man was crazy. Finally he re-
peated the question, and Abe replied :
**No, sir, this is not your dog; he is my
dog. I found him in the road with his leg
broken, and I fixed his leg and nursed
him till he got well. He's my dog, and no-
body can take him from me."
^'Exactly, exactly," mumbled the little
man. **I know now Whistle was not killed.
I thought he was dead when I saw him at
the foot of the cliff with blood running
from his mouth, and I went away and
left him. I want him back ; he is my dog, ' '
the old fellow whined.
^^How did Honey get hurt?"
*'Well," came the shamefaced answer,
**I got mad at him because he wouldn't
176 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
mind me, and I kicked him with my heavy
shoe and he rolled over the cliff, and when
I looked down I thought he was dead.
And I felt sorry for him, and went away
and left him there."
**Then there came into Abe's face a
terrifying expression," said Mr. Golla-
her. *'It wasn't anger; it was righteous
wrath, I suppose ; I don't know how to de-
scribe it. But when Abe opened his
mouth and spoke, I knew there was fight
and defiance in every word.
" *If you try to take Honey away from
me, I'll make him tear you up,' he said.
*I'll make him grab you by the throat.
Let's see you take him,' and there was a
blazing light in his eyes. 'I dare you to
try to put your hands on him ! Here he
is, take him! Why don't you take him?
You are a coward!'
"All the time Abe was speaking, Honey
was growling and gnashing his teeth. The
two warriors were defiant and ready for
battle. I was a little frightened, but it
HONEY'S OLD MASTER 177
tickled me to hear Abe talking that way,
because I had always wanted to see him
fight.
*' *Why/ Abe continued, *what right
have you got to Honey ? You tried to kill
him; you kicked him and broke his leg
and left him bleeding to death. Look at
Honey's leg now, all twisted, because you
kicked him over the cliff. Why don't you
fall over a hill yourself, and break your
own leg 1 Then you will know how Honey
felt. A dog suffers when he is hurt just
as much as a human. No, sir, you can't
get Honey ! He would rather die than go
with you, and I would rather die than let
him!' were Abe's parting words to
Honey's old master."
*'Come on, Austin, let's go," said Abe,
and the boys retraced their steps toward
the Lincoln cabin.
''Look, Abe," cried Austin excitedly,
"that old man is following us, and he has
a big stick in his hand."
"Let him follow," answered Abe, "fa-
178 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
ther and Mr. Keith are at home and
they'll give him a thrashing if he fools
with them ; and anybody who treats a dog
like he treated Honey ought to have a
whipping."
The stranger followed close behind the
boys until they reached the cabin, where
with one voice they excitedly related their
adventure with the dirty little man in the
woods. Mr. Lincoln, who happened to be
in the house, met the stranger and po-
litely asked what he could do for him.
**I want my dog Whistle," he said, and
there was a tone of demand in his voice.
**My friend," answered Mr. Lincoln,
**you can't have the dog; even if I should
consent I don't believe you could persuade
the dog to go with you. He would tear
you to pieces. He's trying to get at you
now. He very likely remembers your
cruel treatment."
"Well, sir," Mr. GoUaher commented,
*'when Abe heard his father talking that
way his face fairly beamed."
HONEY'S OLD MASTER 179
"I will have him,'' the little man cried
out, as he reached for a knife that hung
from his belt.
But Mr. Lincoln was too quick for him.
His arm shot out and the belligerent
stranger tumbled in a knot to the ground.
Then Mr. Lincoln lifted him up, and shak-
ing him, said: '*I believe you are an es-
caped criminal. What are you doing
prowling around in this neighborhood?"
The dirty face whitened, and he began
to whine and beg.
*'Let him go, father," Abe put in; *'let
him get out of this neighborhood."
But Mr. Lincoln questioned him fur-
ther, believing that the man might be
wanted by the officers of the law.
**What is your right name?" asked Mr.
Keith who had heard the story and
watched the encounter.
"Rolling Stone," was the sarcastic
answer.
**Very well," answered Mr. Keith,
*'we'll just roll Mr. Rolling Stone to
180 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
Elizabetlitown and hold him in jail while
his past record is investigated."
And so they delivered the strange little
man to the jailer at Elizabethtown, who
held him until it was learned that he was a
harmless, half-witted rover, who never be-
fore had made trouble for any one. He
had sense enough, however, to stay away
from Abe and his dog, and never again to
visit the Knob Creek community.
CHAPTER XXII
ROBINSON CRUSOE
^'What are you crying about, Abe?"
Austin asked sympathetically, when he
found his playmate leaning against a tree
in the yard of the Lincoln home.
*'I'm not crying, my eyes are just wa-
tering,'' Abe answered.
**Did you get something in your eye?"
"No, Austin, I just feel bad; I feel
funny down where my heart is, something
keeps running up to my throat and chokes
me. I guess it's because mother talked to
me this morning; she was so good to me."
**What does she say to you, Abe, that
makes you feel bad?" inquired Austin.
"Well, you see, mother talks a lot about
what will become of me when she goes to
the other world. She's trying to tell me
181
182 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
what to do, and how to get along when she
is not here any more. She never feels
well, and I believe she thinks the angels
are going to come after her soon and take
her to God. She tells me things she wants
me to do ; she wants me to be kind to ev-
erybody— ^to father and to sister ; and she
wants me to try to learn something from
books, so that I can either preach or teach
school." The tears were now trickling
down Abe's cheeks, and he was sobbing as
if his heart was broken; he did not at-
tempt further to conceal his tears from
Austin, for by this time he, too, was
weeping.
**I have forgiven that preacher who
went away with my cap, because mother
said she didn't believe he aimed to steal
it," said Abe, as he wiped the tears from
his eyes with his sleeves. "And you re-
member one day when he was preaching
he said that every boy he ever knew who
loved his mother and did what she told
him to do, never had any trouble getting
".;" -i-- *-^ -*v '.? ^%'^.h
ROBINSON CRUSOE 183
along in the world ; well, I believe lie told
the truth. I am going to try to do what I
think mother wants me to do. She's the
best friend I have and she's good to me,
and if she should leave me I reckon I'd
never be much account, because I would
always be thinking about her, and
wouldn't have time to study my lessons."
**I know one thing," said Austin, his
tear-stained eyes snapping, "a boy's
mother's better to him than anybody else ;
she's a heap better to him than his father,
and when she whips him, she whips him
easy, and when he cries she stops. Some-
times when a boy cries, and tells his fa-
ther he's hurting, he won't stop. You re-
member the time father whipped me for
talking back to old man Evans, don't you ?
Well, there were marks around my legs
for two or three days, and when mother
saw the marks she called father and told
him that he mustn't whip me that way any
more. And she told him, too, that old man
Evans was a scamp, and that I oughtn't
184 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
to have been whipped so hard on his ac-
count, anyhow."
Abe agreed fully with everything Aus-
tin said about mothers, adding: "Mother
never did whip me ; she has just spanked
me a few times for being slow in bringing
water from the spring. And I'll tell you
what," he continued, "I just can't move
along fast like some boys, because I see so
many little foolish things that just seem
to make me stop; and I can't help it to
save my life. Why, not long ago, when I
went to the spring I saw a big cow snake
hanging to a limb of a tree ; he was almost
covered with leaves and was trying his best
to get to a nest of little young birds. Well,
I had to get him out of the tree, and I
threw at him until my arm was tired be-
fore I killed him. But when I told mother
what I had been doing, she said it was all
right, and patted me on the head, and told
me to take all the time I needed to kill
snakes and save the lives of birds. Now,
you see," continued Abe, "father
ROBINSON CRUSOE 185
wouldn't have done that way, because I
reckon he wouldn't have cared if the
snake got the birds. Mother said one time
she made father turn a lot of turkeys
loose, because he had caught too many of
them. But that was when they were
sweethearts, and father would then do
anything she told him to, because he was
afraid some other man would come along
and be better to her and take her away
from him."
The boys had both forgotten their sor-
rows by this tune and Austin said:
**Let's take the billy-goat down to the
creek and wash hun with some lye soap."
''He won't let us wash him," replied
Abe emphatically. ' ' I tried to put him in
the water yesterday, and he just tucked
his head down, shoved it against me and
pushed me up the hill. He won't go about
water. I reckon it's a goat's nature to be
like that, and you know Mr. John says
it's mighty hard to change, to change—
what you call it?— to change from the
186 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
way we are to something else. He says
that's the reason I can't move any faster
than I do."
**Then," said Austin, "let's get Honey
and go down to the Nice Stone and watch
the squirrels. But we won't get on top of
the stone, because yesterday when I was
down there it looked to me like one of
those big rocks was about ready to fall."
** All right," assented Abe, "but did you
know they saw some bear tracks in the
mud up there by Mr. Enlow's place
yesterday?"
"Yes," Austin grinned, "but bears
won't bother you if you leave them alone;
and besides, if one should try to get us I
could shoot him. I cleaned my gun good
this morning, and put a lot of powder in
the load, and I believe I could hit a bear
square between the eyes."
Abe blew his whistle for Honey, but the
dog came rather slowly.
"He's afraid I'm going to give him
back to his old master."
ROBINSON CRUSOE 187
** Don't get close to the Nice Stone,
Abe," warned Austin, "just look how
loose that big rock looks."
"Honey, go find a squirrel," com-
manded Abe, but Honey was not anxious
to go alone into the woods, and Abe had
to talk to him, assuring him that all was
well, and that he need not fear he would
ever again fall into the hands of the man
who had treated him so cruelly. Finally
Honey went, reluctantly, but in a few mo-
ments came bouncing back, barking and
full of excitement.
"Whenever Honey acts that way," said
Abe, "there's something he sees or hears
that he ain't used to. It might be that
bear; so let's go back to the house and tell
the folks about it."
Abe was right so many times about such
matters that Austin readily agreed to fol-
low his suggestion, and the two ran to the
house and told of Honey's queer actions.
Jonathan Keith consented to go back
with the boys to see if Honey had dis-
188 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
covered something unusual. About one
half mile from the Nice Stone they found
a man and woman camped on a knoll.
The strangers greeted them with cordial
salutations, and informed them that they
were traveling toward Indiana, where
they intended to reside. A quilt was
spread upon the grass and on the quilt
were two or three books. Abe's eyes fell
upon them and his curiosity getting the
better of him, he asked whether one of the
books was named Robinson Crusoe.
The woman laughed and answered:
**No, they are readers, and we are school-
teachers. We are going to Indiana to
teach."
''Why don't you stay here and teach
school?" quickly asked Abe.
''Because," answered the woman
kindly, "the community is not thickly set-
tled, and we are afraid we could not get
enough children in the school to pay us,
my boy."
"Well," said Abe assuringly, "I'd go
ROBINSON CRUSOE 189
to school to you, and would do anything
you wanted me to do."
''Do you want to learn to read and
write?" the woman asked.
"I can already read, and can write a
little bit," answered Abe. ''I can spell
hen and cat, and dog and fox, mill, horse,
squirrel and some other words."
* ' That 's fine, ' ' said the woman. ' * Now,
let me hear you spell squirrel."
*'S-q-u-r-i-l," responded Abe hurriedly.
*' You nearly had it right ; try again and
go slowly," she said.
Abe studied for a moment, and then
very slowly felt his way, spelling:
" S-q-u-i-r-r-e-1. "
"That is fine, my boy; I would like to
have you for one of my children; you'd
learn quickly."
"Please stay here," pleaded Abe, "I
want to learn to read and write. Did you
ever hear of a book called B. Crusoe'^
About a man on an island, who was good
to a black man he called Friday"?"
190 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
''Indeed, I have," the woman an-
swered, smiling, **I have it over there in
that sack. Do you want to see it?" she
asked.
Abe in his excitement, commenced to
untie the sack, but soon remembered him-
self, and very much embarrassed, asked
the woman to forgive him. She grabbed
him and hugged him, then untied the sack
and brought forth the copy of Bohinson
Crusoe.
**Well, sir," said Mr. Gollaher, taking
up the narrative, ''I see that boy's happy
face right now; I do believe it was the
first time I ever saw Abe so completely
happy."
"Come and go home with us," begged
Abe. "I want you to see my mother. We
live right over there; it won't take you
long. Come and stay a week and read
that book to me, and some day I will pay
you back," he said, looking pleadingly
into the smiling face of the woman.
The man and woman accepted Abe's in-
ROBINSON CRUSOE 193
vitation, and, after strapping their be-
longings to the back of their horse, the
boys and their new friends repaired to
the home of Thomas Lincoln. They in-
troduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs.
Dawson, and Mrs. Lincoln gave them a
most cordial welcome, saying she would
be glad to keep them for an indefinite
visit if she had the room.
"Mother," pleaded Abe, "can't we keep
them long enough for Mrs. Dawson to read
Bohinson Crusoe to me? Let them sleep
in the loft, and I will sleep in the stable ;
the fodder makes a fine^bed."
"My son, I would be glad to do this for
you if we had some way to make Mr. and
Mrs. Dawson comfortable," said Mrs.
Lincoln.
"Then I'll tell you what we can do," ex-
claimed Abe, pointing his long forefinger
toward the west. "You all can stay at
Mr. Hodgen's. He and his mother have a
big house, and there will be plenty of room
there for all of us. I'll go over with you
192 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
and tell Mrs. Hodgen that I want you to
stay and she will let you, and be mighty
glad, too. Now, mother, can't I go with
them to Mrs. Hodgen 's?" the boy begged
fervently.
But Mr. and Mrs. Dawson insisted that
they must proceed with their journey,
that they did not feel that they could lose
the time, even if Mr. Hodgen and his
mother should endorse the invitation Abe
had given.
**But that lad was persistent,'' said Mr.
Gollaher, **and the Dawsons finally
agreed to spend the night with the Hod-
gens if agreeable to them. So, with his
mother's consent, Abe went with the
strangers to make the introductions."
Mrs. Hodgen met them with open arms
and joined with Abe in an effort to get
the teachers to locate permanently in that
community, but they were firm in their
decision to settle in Indiana. However,
they did agree to spend a few days with
Mr. and Mrs. Hodgen.
ROBINSON CRUSOE 193
Abe, of course, was invited to remain
in the Hodgen home as long as the teach-
ers would stay, and his mother gave her
permission.
^^Mrs. Dawson read Robinson Crusoe to
him, and when I saw him several days
later, he was feeling mighty good over his
education," said Mr. Gollaher. '*I
thought maybe he would get in the habit
of feeling happy and would smile of tener,
but he didn't," continued Mr. Gollaher.
*'I'll tell you that boy worried me a lot be-
cause he looked sad all the time. The only
way you could tell he was feeling good
was when he moved around quicker or
talked more than usual. But he didn't
cry any more about his mother for sev-
eral days, then all at once he grew sad
again, and I couldn't get him out in the
woods to play. So, finally, one day I
thought I'd talk a little rough, and I said,
* Abe, you haven't got any sense ; you just
hang around the house and act like some-
body's dead, and if you don't get out of
194 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
that way of doing I am going to get some
other boy to play with me.' "Well, sir,
don't you know that kind of made Abe
think a little bit and he never again had
one of those prolonged spells of depres-
sion."
CHAPTER XXIII
Sarah's swing
When Jonathan Keith completed the
grape-vine swing for Sarah Lincoln, it
was the nicest and best swing of that kind
in the whole country, and there were
many grape-vine swings scattered
through the hills, too. Mr. Lincoln, who
was something of a carpenter, made the
box seat, and Mrs. Lincoln did some up-
holstering with a sheepskin. The grape-
vines were securely looped around the
box, and Mr. Keith smoothed and notched
a big limb, growing high up on an oak
tree which sheltered much of the Lincoln
yard, and then over the smoothly-notched
limb the vines were fastened, and Sarah's
swing was complete.
All was ready for ^'the trip to the
195
196 THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN
moon," that Mr. Keith had been promis-
ing her, and Abe and Austin watched the
proceedings with interest. They were
anxious to be asked to take one of those de-
lightful trips, but Sarah not even hinted
at such a thing.
"I reckon we will have to build a swing
of our own down on Knob Creek," said
Austin.
"You boys may swing when Sarah is
tired or when she has something else to
do," said Mr. Lincoln^ "but when she
wants to make her trips to the moon, you
two must wait. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," answered both boys.
"We are going to make us a swing down
on the creek," announced Austin. "It's
lots nicer down there anyhow, and Abe
and I can have more fun by ourselves."
"Very well," said Mr. Lincoln. "Get
the vines and I will make the box."
Sarah kept the swing going sometimes
until she got dizzy-headed, and then her
mother would forbid her to swing until
SARAH'S SWING ' 197
she felt better. It was thus through
Sarah's misfortune that Abe and Austin
were now and then given a chance to use
that popular vehicle.
''Austin, I like to swing," shouted Abe,
as Austin gave to him the needed shove.
*'I like it because something funny comes
in my breast that takes that heavy feeling
out.'^
*'I like it too," said Austin, "because it
makes me feel like I'm flying. Next sum-
mer we will build a good one down there
by the Nice Stone, and then we can swing
as long as we want to."
' ' Sarah will get tired after a while and
then we can use this one," answered Abe.
But Sarah did not get tired, though she
quit swinging because a very unusual and
frightful thing occurred that made her
afraid to go near the swing for a long
time.
The little girl had climbed into the box
seat, and had given a strong pull on the
*' starting vine," which was attached to a
198 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
small tree near by, when, with a frightful
scream, she jmnped from the box and fell
to the ground. Abe lifted Sarah into his
strong arms and held her close to his
breast, while Austin ran for Mrs. Lincoln.
Finally, Sarah opened her eyes and
pointed toward the swing, screaming
frantically.
^^Corne here, Abe,'' shouted Austin, as
Mrs. Lincoln bathed her little girl's head.
"That's it; there's what scared her."
In the bottom of the box seat was a huge
cow snake, coiled up and blinking lazily
in the autumn sun.
"Well, I'll fix him," said Austin, who
frequently bragged about being a snake-
charmer, and with that he reached into
the box, lifted the ugly reptUe out and
dropped it on the ground. "Let's drag
him out there in the field and let Honey
kill him."
But it wasn't quite so easy as they
thought, and Honey had the tussel of his
life.
SARAH'S SWING 199
It was many a day before Sarah would
go near the swing, so Abe and Austin used
it to their hearts' content.
"Now, Austin," said Abe, "do you
reckon anybody would ever accuse us of
putting the snake there?"
"I would hate to think I was that mean,
wouldn't you?" asked Austin.
"I don't see how some people sleep at
night," continued Abe; "it looks to me
like the mean things they do during the
day would make such a noise in their ears
that they would stay awake all night.
Whenever I do something that ain't just
right, I can't go to sleep for a long time,
because there is a funny noise in my ears
— something seems to ask: *Why'd you
do that, Abe? Why'd you do that?' "
CHAPTER XXIY
STEALING TIME
In an abundant corn-crop there was
ease of mind and a winter's happiness for
the pioneer. If he had more than enough
to meet the needs of his family he was
ready with a helping hand for friend or
neighbor, who had been less fortunate.
When the children were old enough to
toddle, they were taught that their inter-
est in the corn-field was as great as that
of the oldest member of the family. They
learned early in life that the corn-crop
was not being cultivated for the markets,
or for the love of money, but for the neces-
sity of the cabin home. They were taught
to work and were impressed with the be-
lief that the harder the lick, the bigger the
corncake would be.
200
STEALING TIME 201
*'Abe, you and Austin have done
mighty good with those four rows of
corn," said Austin's father, "and I think
we'll have to give you extra rations for
supper. I am not a bit sorry," he contin-
ued, "that Tom Lincoln and I are going
halvers on that patch of corn. It appears
to me, Austin, that you work better when
Abe is with you. I reckon you did two
rows each, didn't you?" asked Mr.
Gollaher.
Austin's head dropped.
"Out with it, Austin; how many rows
did you do? Tell the truth," his father
commanded.
* ' One, ' ' replied Austin.
"What made you work so slow?" asked
Mr. Gollaher. "You are quicker than
Abe when it comes to play, and in every-
thing else where getting about is required.
Why did you let Abe do three rows to
your one?"
"I've been feeling bad in my side, fa-
ther, ever since the day I fell out of the
202 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
tree, and it hurts me to stoop," Austin
explaraed.
"But you've been doing lots of running
around since then. I think I'll have to
punish you," Mr. GoUaher announced
menacingly as if the punishment was go-
ing to be severe. **Now, I'll tell you what
you will have to do, Austin," he went on.
"You'll have to catch up with Abe. So,
to-morrow morning you'll go to work be-
fore sunup and stick to it till it gets dark.
You see, son, Abe's pappy and I are part-
ners in that patch of corn, and it wouldn't
be fair to let Abe do so much more of the
work than you do."
"I'll get up, too, and help him, Mr. Gol-
laher," said Abe eagerly.
"But I can't let you do that, Abe ; Aus-
tin must do his part. Can't you see, boys,
that it wouldn't be fair for either one of
you to do more than the other, because, as
I explained, Mr. Lincoln and I are part-
ners in the patch, and each has agreed to
do his share of work. "
STEALING TIME 203
There was no complaint from either boy
over the form of Austin's punishment,
each, perhaps, feeling the justice of it;
but Abe was full of sadness. Austin was
out early the next morning and worked
hard and late to catch up with Abe, and
Abe was there just a little earlier than
usual, hopeful that he might find some
way to help his unfortunate comrade.
"Austin," said Abe, as they were hoe-
ing the next day, *Hhey say crows can
talk if you catch them when they are
young and teach them, and that they'll
follow you around like a pet chicken. Do
you reckon we could catch one ?" he asked.
**We can set a trap here in the corn and
try," replied Austin.
After several unsuccessful attempts
they captured a young crow, and Abe
clipped its wings and kept it tied up until
he had tamed it. He fed and petted it and
tried in many ways to teach it to talk, but
the crow didn't quite understand and re-
fused to abandon his native "caw."
204 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"It looks at me with its head turned to
one side like it wants to talk, but it won't
say a word," Abe declared, "and I don't
believe a crow can talk unless its tongue is
split like your mother said, and I
wouldn't want to do that."
Abe 's pets now numbered four : Honey,
the crow, the goat and a pet coon. When
he played around his home all four were
with him, but when he went into the woods
Honey only accompanied him. The coon
gave him much trouble, and Abe wasn't
so fond of him as he was of the crow or the
goat. In fact the coon had tried to run
away several times, but Honey always
rounded him up and brought him back.
A few days later Mr. Gollaher made an-
other tour of inspection.
"I have caught up," said Austin, full
of enthusiasm when his father appeared.
Mr. Gollaher counted the rows and then
did a little problem in mental arithmetic.
"Hold on a minute," he said; and
he counted the rows again.
STEALING TIME 205
Abe looked at Austin, and Austin
looked at Abe.
Finally Mr. Gollaber said: "Abe, you
have done only six rows in three days.
The first day you did three of them. It
looks to me like you have been fooling
away your time so Austin could catch up
with you. That won't do, boys," he con-
tinued, "that's not right. I am going over
to Hodgen's Mill to-morrow, Abe, and I
am going to ask your pappy to let you go
along with me. Then Austin can catch up
with you in the right way. You hoys
haven't been honest with me, but I don't
believe Abe should be punished because he
got into trouble out of the goodness of his
heart."
"What do you mean by we haven't been
honest, Mr. Gollaher?" asked Abe, "does
it mean stealing'?"
"It's this way, Abe," explained Mr.
Gollaher. "When the preacher went
away with your cap he was dishonest ; he
stole the cap. "
206 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
"Well," said Abe, "I didn't mean to
steal anything from you and father when
I worked slow to let Austin catch up with
me, and I'm mighty sorry. But was it
sure-enough stealing, Mr. Gollaher?"
**Yes, Abe; you and Austin were steal-
ing time from your pappy and me, and,
when stolen from people for whom you
are working, time is just the same as
money, or pelts, or caps."
Austin Gollaher, the man, said that he
never forgot that lesson in honesty, and
from that time on he never again failed to
give his employer a full day's labor for a
full day's pay.
"Austin," said Abe, "I asked Mr. Hod-
gen if stealing time made us thieves, and
he said it wasn't exactly stealing, but if
we kept on cheating that way we might
soon come to stealing. I asked him how
we could pay back what we took, and he
said by working a little harder, or by do-
ing something extra. So, let's don't go
with them fishing to-morrow; let's stay
STEALING TIME 207
right here in the corn patch and pay them
a day's work."
''I'll do it," assented Austin.
And in that way, Abe and Austin
squared the account.
CHAPTER XXV
AUSTIN AND THE COON
When the Hodgens built the four-
room, two-story house, shortly after the
death of Robert Hodgen in 1810, they
made the rooms large so there would be
no lack of space when visitors came that
way; and subsequent events proved they
were right since little bands of travelers
were constantly asking favors of them, —
a few meals and shelter for a night or two.
Many who stopped temporarily were per-
suaded to remain permanently, and so the
Hodgens' big house helped very materi-
ally to build up the community.
There was a great grove of hickory and
walnut trees almost directly in front of
the house, and through the grove a stream
of clear spring water trickled, upon
208
AUSTIN AND THE COON 209
either side of which were long stretches of
orchard grass. This grove was one of the
playgrounds of Abraham Lincoln, and
when it was decided to build a schoolhouse
and church, he urged with childish fervor
that they be built in the grove. He was
greatly disappointed when another site
was chosen.
Since the removal of the Lincolns from
Cave Spring Farm, where Abraham was
born, to the farm close to that of the Gol-
lahers, Thomas Lincoln had grown more
thrifty, and took a great interest in prep-
aration for the winter. He cut wood
and stacked it; he patched the roof; he
fed his pigs, and looked closer to his sup-
ply of meal. He was an enthusiastic nut
gatherer, always had his pockets full of
walnuts — his favorite — and frequently
stopped his work to break the shells and
pick out the kernels. Every week in the
fall he was in the big grove with his sack
which he always brought home full. In
fact, he gathered so many nuts that he
210 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
could not find storage room for them in
his small home, so he walled up a place
under a projecting rock on a hillside back
of his cabin, and there he put away many
bushels in the "Lincoln nut cliff," as it
was called by his neighbors.
** Austin," said Mr. Lincoln one even-
ing, "bring your sack over in the morn-
ing, and you and Abraham may go with
me to the grove after more nuts. Mr.
Keith has promised me the mule, and we
will bring back the sled well loaded."
While Austin was busy shaking nuts
from the top of a big tree a coon appeared
upon the scene, and at once showed fight.
The boy was so frightened that he
dropped, but luckily grabbed a limb as he
was falling and held to it for dear life.
Not realizing the cause of the commotion,
Mr. Lincoln cried out :
"What's the matter up there? Hold
tight, Austin ; don't lose your head ; if you
fall it will kill you. *Coon' it to the
trunk!"
AUSTIN AND THE COON 211
"I can't," screamed Austin. "Don't
you see that big coon in the hollow of the
tree ; he 's mad ; shoot quick or he '11 scratch
me to pieces."
Mr. Lincoln saw the trouble; the rifle
cracked, and an immense coon tumbled to
the ground.
''That's the biggest one I have ever
seen, and it's a mighty lucky thing for
you, my boy, that he did not get to you,"
said Mr. Lincoln. ''Why, that coon would
have torn your head off if he could have
got a square lick at you."
When Austin, who had lost no time get-
ting to the ground, had caught his breath,
he said to Abe : "Do you think it was all
right to kill the coon ?"
"Yes, I think it was all right," Abe an-
swered. "I've always said it was right to
kill animals and varmints and things like
that when they want to fight." Then he
added, a twinlde in his eye: "I guess you
are worth more than the coon, even if they
can't make caps out of your skin."
'212 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN'
"Get away from that coon, Honey,'*
said Mr. Lincoln ; "his hide will go a long
ways toward making me a coat."
"But, father,'' said Abe, "ain't you go-
ing to give the coon to Austin ? He found
it."
"No, he didn't," replied Mr. Lincoln;
"the coon found Austin."
CHAPTER XXVI
JUST TURNED AROUND
The sun was hanging low in the west;
the hills were already steeped in shadows,
and night would soon fall upon field and
wood. Abraham Lincoln and Austin Gol-
laher were lost and facing a night in the
woods. The boys had been aimlessly wan-
dering for some time, each knowing they
were lost; neither mentioning it to the
other. They were hoping that something
would lead them aright, and that it
wouldn't be necessary for the one to
frighten the other by admitting the truth ;
but finally, realizing the seriousness of
the situation, they stopped and anxiously
scanned the chain of blue hills to the east,
and then looked at each other.
213
214 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN"
''We are just turned around, not lost,"
exclaimed Abe.
''I know it," said Austin, "but how are
we going to get turned around right?"
''Let's don't get scared, and let's think
about something," was Abe's very sensi-
ble suggestion. "Now," he said, "there
is no use to travel any farther toward the
hills. It seems like that's the way home,
but we didn't come over the hills to get
here, and we couldn't get home by going
that way."
"That's so," Austin agreed, "but it
seems to me if we go any other way we
won't be going home. It looks like I can
almost see our houses over there where
the hills are. We had no business trying
to come through the woods until we had
been through with our fathers. But we
aren't afraid," he added, "because we'll be
all right if it doesn't storm and —
thunder."
"If we could find Knob Creek we could
get home," remarked Abe reassuringly,
Knob Creek still has its foot-logs and the children of the hills
play there to-day as they played more than a hundred years ago
TOST TURNEn ^LR'OUND 215
'^because there's no place along the creek
we haven't been. We'd be sure to know
which way to go, too, if we could see that
big tall tree that stands on the hill over
there by Mr. Dawson's house. We've got
to find something like that before we can
get out of here. Look for a path, Aus-
tin," advised Abe, '4ook good," and he
clapped his hands to emphasize his com-
mand, **and if we find one we'll follow
it — we'll follow it over that way," and he
pointed in the direction that seemed di-
rectly away from home. "Rabbits and
'possums and other animals," he said,
*'make paths in going to Knob Creek for
water. I have heard father say that he'd
followed a narrow trail lots of times in
looking for water, and that he nearly al-
ways found it."
"The sun's about down," said Austin,
"and before we know it, it will be black
as pitch in here, and then we '11 have to do
like the men do when they are lost and
night comes on."
216 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
**What do they do?" Abe quickly
asked.
*'Tliey just stop right where they are
and stay there until daylight, because it
don't do any good to try to find your way
when you haven't got a trail to follow.
So, if we don't find something pretty soon
we '11 stay where we are till morning. And
we must keep awake, too, and listen for
the blasts from the hunters' horn and look
for the torch-lights, because our fathers
are sure to be out looking for us. But
they won't be as scared as they were the
time you were lost in the cave, because
they know we are together. I wish your
mother and Sarah hadn't taken Honey
with them down to Mrs. Hodgen's. If
Honey were here he'd know the way
home."
But Abe had no intention of spending
the night in the woods if his acute mind
could find a way out, and he continued
his search for a path in the underbrush.
He examined closely every patch of
JUST TURNED AROUND 217
briers, every clump of bushes, getting
down on his hands and knees in his eager-
ness to find a trail.
"Here it is!" he shouted, as the sun
dropped out of sight. And when Austin
joined him he saw running through the
woods and the briers a well-defined XDath.
The boys followed it at a gallop, scratch-
ing their hands and faces as they hurried
through the tall briers and tangled thick-
ets. Less than half a mile away they
found Knob Creek, and were greatly sur-
prised to discover themselves within a
stone's throw of their homes.
*'Well," said Austin, "we were 'turned
around' right where, had we hollered loud
enough, they would have heard us. The
next time we'll cut notches in the trees.
Or we won't go any more unless we take
Honey with us. I reckon he's got more
sense than we have," he laughingly
concluded.
"It looked like the hills had moved to
another place, didn't it? — like they had
218 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
just covered up Knob Creek," said Abe.
*'We are late, and mother will be uneasy
about me, but when I teU her we were lost,
I reckon she '11 be so glad we got home all
right that she won't scold me much.
*' Whenever you're lost," Abe advised
Austin, as if he were much older, **just
try to think about what you are doing,
and don't get scared, and the most of the
time you will find your way back home.
That's the reason I want to learn how to
read ; the books tell you a lot of things —
they tell you how to keep out of trouble,
and if you do get in they show you how to
get out."
CHAPTER XXVII
THE GHOST
Thomas Lincoln sat in front of his
backlog fire. He was picking kernels
from a heap of walnuts, and was hungrily
gulping them down. It was early in the
evening, but Mrs. Lincoln, Abe and Sarah
were in bed. The moon was shining
brightly and the first snow of the season
was falling. It was just the kind of night
to sit by a warm fire, eat walnuts and
dream, which Mr. Lincoln was doing in a
highly satisfactory manner.
Suddenly there was a rap on the door,
but before Mr. Lincoln had time to ex-
tend the settler's usual polite invitation,
**Come in," the latch-string was silently
lifted, and a ^' ghost" walked into the
room. The thing had upon its shoulders
219
220 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
an ox head, and from its skeleton eyes
shone flickering flames of light. Its body
was robed in white, and about its should-
ers was a large white sheepskin. The
make-up of the creature was hideous; it
was so ghastly that Thomas Lincoln stood
there in the small room shivering and un-
decided what to do.
Abraham, who was not yet asleep,
crawled noiselessly from his trundle bed,
stole up behind the ghost and tipped the
skeleton-head of the ox to the floor and
disclosed a young woman who had but re-
cently moved into the community, and
who had a mania for playing pranks.
Though Mr. Lincoln earnestly impressed
on her the danger of amusing herself in
such fantastic ways, she continued to
frighten people until one evening she was
given a whipping by two boys who failed
to see the humor of her practical jokes.
**Were you afraid of the ghost?" asked
Austin the next day, when Abe related the
experience of the previous night.
THE GHOST 221
*^No, I wasn't," was the prompt reply,
**but I reckon I would have been if I
hadn't seen that old ox head over at her
honse a few days before. I asked her
mother why they were keeping it, and she
said her daughter used it to scare people-
with.
*'But," continued Abe, smiling faintly;
^'father didn't eat any more walnuts af-
ter the ghost came, and he told mother
that devilish girl kind o' made him ner-
vous. You see, father doesn't exactly be-
lieve in ghosts, but he saj^s he has seen lots
of funny things in the woods at night, and
for that reason he doesn't like to be out
after dark. Once he was sure he saw an
Indian war-dance. I can just barely re-
member one night when we lived on Cave
Spring Farm, father came home nearly
scared to death. He told mother he saw a
giant riding a big lion through the woods,
and that the lion and the man actually
tore down the trees as they galloped and
roared through the timber. Mother put
222 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
father to bed, and he didn't get out for a
long time."
^'Are you much afraid when it gets
dark?" asked Austin.
*'Not much," replied Abe, ''because
Missus Sarah says the night is just like a
big room in her house that she keeps dark
during the day by putting something over
the window, and she asked me if I would
be afraid to go into that room while it was
dark, and when I told her I wouldn't she
said: *Well, that dark room is just like
night, and if you are not afraid to go
where I have made it dark, I know you
are not afraid to go where God has made
it dark.' She said the world was God's
big house, and that when it got dark in the
world it was because God had put some-
thing over the window."
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE DISTRESS SIGNAL
The Christmas hunt one hundred years
or more ago was a big event among the
settlers. The hunting parties were usu-
ally made up of not more than eight or
ten neighbors who were closely identified
in a social way, and who loved that feat-
ure of the meet as much as they loved the
sport.
When the date was finally set, the bul-
lets molded and all preparations made,
the hunters met at a given time and place,
the routes were mapped out and the
"stands" selected, each receiving full in-
structions what to do if something un-
looked-for should happen. Then the men
and dogs went forth into the wilderness
to invade the hiding-places of the turkey,
223
224 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
the deer and other game which was then
so plentiful in Kentucky.
The crack of the rifle was as music to
the ears of the backwoodsman, and when
he heard the faint muffled report of the
old-time rifle, over there on the hill or
down in the valley, he smiled and made a
mark upon a rock or a tree. Each hunter,
knowing the exact location of his com-
rades, kept an account of the number of
shots fired, when the report was within
reach of his acute and well-trained ears,
and he could tell within remarkable ac-
curacy how many pieces of game each
hunter had brought down during the day,
when all assembled late in the afternoon
to make the count, and relate their
experiences.
The aim of those hunters was unerring,
and when one heard the report of a rifle
it was safe to give the hunter credit for
another wild creature of the forest. It
was unusual to miss, and when for any
reason a wild shot was made, the hunter
THE DISTRESS SIGNAL 225
was greatly chagrined, for lie knew his
comrades of the hunt would ''devil" him
when they met together at the close of the
day.
The hunters had signals which were
obeyed implicitly. The hunter's horn was
law. It was the call to duty, and every
man obeyed it. There was to be no wait-
ing, not for a moment, when that blast
was sounded. It was considered of such
importance that there was a standing ad-
monition that ran something like this:
"If the game is there and the gun is
raised, and you hear a blast, don't shoot
until you have obeyed the law of the
horn. ' '
One short blast of the horn called a cer-
tain pioneer, two blasts called another,
and so on, each having a number. One
long blast was the distress signal, and all
who heard it went to the comrade that
made it in all haste.
** Abe didn't enjoy these annual hunts,"
said Mr. Gollaher, ''and when he was very
226 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
young, shortly after the Lincolns moved
here, he expressed himself to me — with
that mild convincing look upon his face
that always made me feel queer — as being
* against killing things in the woods that
don't bother you.' Only once did he take
part in an expedition.
"I shall never forget that day," con-
tinued Mr. Gollaher; ^*I thought Abe was
the strangest lad in the world, and I guess
he was. When he heard the report of a
rifle he had a way of doubling up his
fists, drawing his face and shrugging his
shoulders that was most peculiar. He
was actually beside himself with nervous-
ness and seemed extremely uncomfort-
able. Once he whispered to me: *I hope
they won't hit anything. If I could tell
the turkeys and deer that the men are
watching for them, I'd do it, so they could
go into the caves and stay there till the
hunt is over.'
*'Upon this occasion Abe and I were
permitted to take a stand with Mr. Hod-
THE DISTRESS SIGNAL 227
gen. We were stationed close to a small
spring which ran out of a rock at the foot
of a hill. Yonder 's the hill, right over
there to the east — the one with the dead
trees at the top," said the venerable Mr.
Gollaher, with a wave of his hand.
** Right at the foot of that hill we had our
stand — Mr. Hodgen, Abe and I. That's
the hill, and that big flat-top rock was
there then as now. A clump of bushes
and saplings were just in front of the
rock, making a good hiding-place for the
hunter.
"There had been many rifle reports
during the morning and afternoon, and
Mr. Hodgen had been kept pretty busy
making marks on the rock. Abe had
learned to count and had figured up the
number of 'poor things,' as he called
them, that had been killed. He asked Mr.
Hodgen if he believed that every time a
gun cracked something had been shot, and
when the question was answered in the
affirmative, Abe replied in his simple
228 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
wonderful way: 'It's mighty bad! It
ain't right!'
''Mr. Hodgen's hunting horn was lying
on the rock, close to the marks he had
scratched, the marks Abe had been scan-
ning— earnestly and sorrowfully from the
moment the first one was made early in
the morning until some time in the after-
noon— when he himself brought that
day's hunt abruptly to a close.
"The weather was wonderfully mild
for that time of the year, we didn't even
have to move about to keep our feet warm.
Abe and I, standing just behind the rock,
had our pockets full of walnuts and sweet
cakes. And I at least was having a pretty
good time watching for game and listen-
ing to the sound of the guns. Suddenly
Mr, Hodgen crouched low behind the
rock. His keen ears had caught the faint
noise of an animal gliding through the
forest on the opposite side of Knob Creek.
I, too, had heard the sound.
" 'There it is!' cried Abe. And there,
THE DISTRESS SIGNAL 229
not more than one hundred and fifty feet
away, with its head high, stood a fawn.
Mr. Hodgen did not see it immediately,
and before he could shoot Abe grabbed the
horn and blew the distress signal. Of
course the fawn skipped away and was in-
stantly lost in the deep dark woods on the
other side of the creek.
**Well, sir," continued Mr. Gollaher,
**I was mad enough to jump on Abe and
give him a good licking, and I fully ex-
pected Mr. Hodgen to box his jaws, but
he didn't, he just said, ^Why, Abraham!'
Abe made no reply; he just stood there
gazing across the creek to where the fawn
had stood a moment before.
"I knew, of course, Abe was in for it;
I wouldn't have been in his breeches for
anything I knew of at that time ; but after
I got in a good humor I felt sorry for him
and didn't want to see him whipped. I'll
tell you, Abe had me conjured.
*'That signal meant that all the hunters
who heard it would leave their 'stands' at
230 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
once in answer to the call. Abe seemed
very much unconcerned, except that he
was sorry to displease Mr. Hodgen, and
told him so, but added that he was glad he
saved the life of the little fawn.
**Mr. Lincoln's * stand' was the nearest
to ours, so I knew he would be there in a
few minutes. I felt sure Mr. Hodgen
would think Abe deserved a good whip-
ping, and was therefore greatly surprised
when he said : *Now, Abraham, we've got
to do something to save you. Your father
will give you a whipping, and I don't
want him to do that, because I know just
how you feel about the matter. If you
had only asked me not to take the life of
the fawn you would have saved yourself
all this trouble, for I was not anxious my-
self to shoot the little thing. '
" 'Just let father whip me,' said Abe in
his matter-of-fact way: *he won't kill me,
I reckon, and if I hadn't blown the horn
you would have killed the fawn; you
couldn't have kept from shooting it.'
THE DISTRESS SIGNAL 231
** *Wliat shall I tell your father when
he comes, Abe? What shall I tell him?'
'' 'Tell him I did it. Tell him I blew
the horn to save the life of the fawn, ' was
Abe's decisive answer. *He can whip me
all he wants to and I won't cry. '
** *No,' said Mr. Hodgen, *I am going to
try to save you. '
**In a few moments Mr. Lincoln came
tearing breathlessly through the brush.
" * What's wrong?' he cried.
" *0h, nothing much,' Mr. Hodgen re-
plied, * Abraham just unthoughtedly blew
the horn a little louder than he intended.
It's about time we were all assembling
anyhow, and it didn't really make much
difference,' he added indifferently.
" 'That was a very bad thing to do,
Abraham, and I will have to whip you
when we get home,' announced Mr.
Lincoln.
'' 'Tom,' pleaded Mr. Hodgen, 'just a
light one this time. Abraham will never
do it again.'
232 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
*' *I know I won't, because I am not go-
ing out with you all again,' and then he
let the cat out of the bag by saying: 'I
just couldn't stand to see Mr. Hodgen
shoot that little deer.' "
When the full story came out Mr. Lin-
coln proposed to whip Abe then and there,
but Mr. Hodgen protested, saying that
such punishment should take place in the
home, not in the open air before others;
that it was too much like a public
whipping.
"Well, did your father whip you very
hard?" Austin asked the next day.
"Yes, he did, and he was mad because I
didn't cry. The whipping didn't hurt
much," bragged Abe, "I think God must
have kept it from hurting — kept it from
hurting much, because I saved the life of
the little deer.
"Don't you know, Austin," Abe con-
tinued seriously, "God might think as
much of that little fawn as He does of
some people, and He might not want it
THE DISTRESS SIGNAL 233
kDled. How can we be sure that He
doesn't want it to grow up? You know,
big deers kill snakes — paw them to death,
and when that little fawn grows up big
and strong, he may kill a poisonous snake
that might have bitten a man or woman or
child and killed them. How do we know
that God didn't make me blow that horn
yesterday?"
**Well, sir," said Mr. Gollaher, ^Hhat
was sound argument, and convinced me
Abe had acted entirely within his rights.
He always convinced me when he thought
it worth while. He was a philosopher — a
reasoner — smarter than anybody."
CHAPTER XXIX
THE king's little BOY
** Mother wants Austin to come to see
Abraham," cried Sarah Lincoln as she
entered the Gollaher cabin.
**My child," said Mrs. Gollaher, "Aus-
tin can't go; he was bitten on the foot by
a poisonous snake about an hour ago, and
we have been applying chicken fat to the
wound ever since to draw out the poison.
Austin insists it was a harmless water
snake, not a rattler, but his leg is might-
ily swollen and we are uneasy about him. "
**Well, I'll declare!" exclaimed Sarah,
"it's mighty funny. Abraham cut his
big toe with the ax about the same time
the snake bit Austin, and we couldn't get
it to stop bleeding until mother went out
234
THE KING'S LITTLE BOY 235
to the stable and got a lot of spider-webs
and covered the cut with them."
In the afternoon the swelling had left
Austin's leg, and he announced: "I'm
going over to see Abe, and tell him to get
his pappy to chew up a lot of tobacco and
put on the cut place and it will be well by;
morning."
When he reached the cabin Abe greeted
him with: "Why didn't you kill the
snake, Austin?"
"He got away from me," Austin ad-
mitted. "He crawled into a hole in the
bank of the creek. I thought he was
asleep, and just for fun I tried to grab
him back of the head with my toes, — and
he wasn't asleep. His head shot out and
he bit me. That's what made father think
it was a rattler ; they snap that way. But
water snakes do too when they're feeling
good. How's your toe?"
"It's getting all right since mother put
cobwebs on it. "
"You'd better have somebody chew up
236 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
some tobacco and put that on it; it'll heal
in a hurry then, ' ' advised Austin.
''It's too bad," Austin went on; "we
were going to the mill to-day, and Mr.
John will wonder why we didn't come,
unless some of the folks go and tell him
what has happened."
"It might have been a heap worse for
us if we had gone to the mill. Something
might have happened to us going or com-
ing. You can't tell. But I'll be mighty
glad," Abe continued seriously, "when I
get old enough to wear shoes the year
round — old enough and make money to
wear shoes in the summer time. "
"You may never get old enough to do
that, Abe," said Austin discouragingly.
"There are lots of old men and women
around here that go barefooted the year
round, and I reckon we would have if the
old man who works for Mr. Hodgen
hadn't made the shoes for us last winter.
You ought to be glad you didn't have your
shoes on when you cut your foot; your
THE KING'S LITTLE BOY 23T
toe will heal up, but the shoe would have
been ruined."
Abe smiled at this and asked Austin if
he'd like to hear a story about a king's lit-
tie boy in a far-off land. Austin settled
himself to listen and Abe began :
"Mother said her aunt told this story
to her when she was a little girl, so you see
it is a long time since it happened, and the
king and his little boy have been dead for
a hundred years. Well, this king's little
boy had a twisted foot, and because he
wasn't straight and active like other boys
his father didn't like him and was always
slapping him and mistreating him. One
day some travelers were passing through
the country and among them was a beau-
tiful little boy with long golden curls.
When the king saw him he wanted to take
him into his castle and pretend to the peo-
ple that this was his own child; and he
wanted to have him learn a lot of things
from books so that the boy might become
king when he died. So he swapped his
238 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
little boy with the twisted foot for the
poor little boy who belonged to the trav-
elers, and he gave them a lot of gold be-
sides. The king's little son was old
enough to know that he had been traded
by his father because his foot was twisted
— ^because he was ugly and big and kind of
rough, just like you and me, Austin. So
he kissed his mother good-by and told her
he would come back to see her some time.
** Well, he worked with his foot, pulling
it and pressing down upon it, never mind-
ing the pain, trying to straighten it. One
day he hired a man to make two boards to
fit around his foot, giving to the man
some beads that his mother had given him,
and then he got the man to wrap the
boards tight around his foot. He suf-
fered day and night, but he kept on hav-
ing the boards drawn tighter until by the
time he was a young man his foot was
straight. Then he was determined to be
a great soldier, and get together a lot of
soldiers and go back to visit his mother,
THE KING'S LITTLE BOY 239
and kill his father, and take his place as
king. He soon had a big army, and with
it he marched to the land of his father!
When he got there he sent word to his fa-
ther that he had come to kill him and take
his place as king.
''When his father learned what was to
be done he was badly scared and sent for
his son to come to see him. The son went
to his father's castle, and his father
begged him not to kill him, but the son
said that was why he had come, and he
would have to do it. Then the soldier's
mother came in and begged him to spare
his father's life. He finally said: 'All
right, mother, for your sake I will not kill
him. ' Then he sent his messenger out to
where his army was camped and ordered
those travelers who traded their boy to
his father to be brought to the castle. In
a little while they were there. Then the
king's son said to the king: 'Get off of
your throne.' And the king obeyed.
'Now ' said the soldier, 'you see my
240 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
twisted foot is straight, and with it I will
kick you out of this castle.' The soldier
then began to kick the king, and he kicked
him down the long steps out to the street,
and there he met the same travelers and
he said to them: *Now you must take my
father and you must treat him just as you
treated me, and after you have kept him as
long as you kept me, you may bring him
back here. If, when you bring him back,
he has a twisted foot, I will make him
king again in my place and I will leave
the country. If he will work as hard to
twist his foot as I worked to straighten
mine, he may be successful. '
"How do you like that story, Austin?"
Abe asked.
"It's a good story," exclaimed Austin,
"but what became of the pretty little boy;
the traveler left with the king?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's only a story,
and even if it was true, the boy's dead for
a hundred years I reckon, so it makes no
difference about him."
CHAPTER XXX
TWO PEAYEES JUST ALIKE
**I BELIEVE that's Joel Walters' house
burning," said Thomas Lincoln, as he and
the Gollahers watched the bright light of
a distant fire.
**It's exactly in their direction," re-
plied Mr. Gollaher. "We better do a lit-
tle investigating ; and I guess it would be
well to take Abe and Austin along. They
might be of some help."
They set out at once for the top of the
hill back of the Lincoln cabin, for from
there they would have a better view of the
fire.
"It certainly is Joel's house," ex-
claimed Mr. Lincoln.
"Yes, I am sure of it now," replied Mr.
Gollaher ; and they ran on dovni the slope
241
242 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
of the hill into the deeply wooded valley
beyond.
''That's not Mr. Walters' house," Abe
said, as he and Austin fell a little behind
the others.
''Then, if it ain't, why don't you tell the
toien, so's we can all go back home?" said
Austin impatiently. "It's sprinkling
rain right now, and I don't want to be
caught out here in a storm."
"You tell your father," said Abe, "and
I'll tell mine."
When they had begun to climb the next
hill, Abe ran to his father and said:
"That's not Mr. Walters' house."
"How do you know?" queried Mr.
Lincoln.
Everybody stopped to hear Abe's
explanation.
"Because it's not in the right place."
"It certainly is in the right place," said
Mr. Lincoln, and Mr. GoUaher nodded his
head in approval.
"I'm sure it's not," contended Abe.
TWO PRAYERS JUST ALIKE 243
**Wliy are you so sure, Abe? How do
you know?" asked Mr. Gollaher.
"I'll tell you why. You all know the
tall poplar tree on top of the hill there by
our house?"
*'Yes," answered both men rather
impatiently.
"Well, sir, in the winter when all of its
leaves are off, that tree looks just like it
was leaning against the smoke coming out
of Mr. Walters' chimney; it looks that
way when you come up the path toward it.
To-night I sighted that tree against the
fire, and the fire was way off from it —
way over there," and Abe pointed to the
right.
"Did you ever see such a boy in all your
life!" exclaimed Mr. Gollaher; "and I'll
bet my buttons he's right, too."
It was only a short distance to the top
of the hill they were on and when they
reached it, Thomas Lincoln, somewhat out
of humor, said: "Abraham's right; but
I don't see why in the mischief he didn't
244 THE BOYHOOD OP LINCOLN
tell us before we came all the way over
here. But if it isn't Walters' house burn-
ing, what is it?"
''I'll tell you what it is," said Abe.
''Don't you remember over at Mr. Hod-
gen's that day we all had dinner there
that Mr. Walters said he was going to
burn the hollow trees on his place? He
said he was going to do it because the wild
animals and varmints that catch chickens
live in hollow trees. I remember because
I thought he oughtn't to."
"You are right," said Mr. Lincoln.
"Joel shouldn't have done it. Such game
is leaving the country too fast, anyhow."
"Why didn't you tell us, Abe?" asked
Thomas Gollaher, as they were retracing
their steps through the woods, "why
didn't you tell us we were on a wild goose
chase?"
"I was afraid to," Abe answered.
"What were you afraid of?"
"I was a little afraid it might be Mr.
Walters' house. Then if we hadn't gone
TWO PRAYERS JUST ALZKE 245
to help him he'd never have liked me
again; he'd have thought I didn't want to
come and help them out of their trouble."
Thomas Gollaher laughed heartily at
this very sensible answer and said:
**Tom, you have a mighty smart boy in
that youngster."
A little farther on Austin said ex-
citedly: ^*I hear water roaring."
**So do I. It's Knob Creek," replied
Abe.
*' Father," said Austin, "I believe
Knob Creek's up, and we won't be able to
cross it."
*'Look-a-here, Jonathan," Mr. Golla-
her called to Mr. Keith, "I believe the
boy's right. It looks like we've been cut
off from home. It hasn't rained here to
amount to anything, but I reckon the
waters above have flushed the stream so
we can't cross that foot-log."
It was true. The little mountain
stream had risen rapidly and was now
rippling over the foot-log, making it dan-
246 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
gerous to cross, as the water at that point
was very swift, although not more than
waist deep.
By this time it was raining pretty hard
and the men realized it would be useless
to attempt to reach their homes that
night. So they halloed to their families
and sought shelter in a cliff high above
the water, to await the pleasure of Knob
Creek ; but the little stream continued to
climb so that by daybreak it had spread
completely over the lowlands, while the
heavy clouds continued their downpour.
Noon came, the creek continued to rise
and there was no sign that the rain would
cease in time for the channels to empty
themselves before night, so the party de-
cided to take refuge in the home which,
the night before, they thought was burn-
ing. They were given a hearty welcome
by Mr. Walters and his family, all of
whom laughed heartily when they learned
how their friends happened to be in their
present predicament.
TWO PRAYERS JUST ALIKE 247
"If I'd known the burning of those old
hollow trees was going to get my neigh-
bors into all of this trouble," said Mr.
Walters, "I would have left them for the
weasels and foxes. ' '
*^ Austin," said Abe, when the two were
preparing for bed in the little loft over
the Walters' kitchen, "do you ever say
your prayers?"
"Sometimes I do and sometimes I
don't," answered Austin, yawning. "Do
you say yours?"
* * Yes, every night. ' '
"Well, I guess I would, too, if I knew
what to say. What do you say, Abe?"
"I'll tell you mine, and you can remem-
ber and say it; then God will be getting
two prayers just alike. I just say:
"God help mother, help father, help
sister, help everybody; teach me to read
and write, and watch over Honey and
make him a good dog; and keep us all
from getting lost in the wilderness.
AmenI"
CHAPTER XXXI
TELL THE TRUTH
'^Austin/' said Abe, *'I'll be mighty
glad when I can have my own big ax.
This would be a good place right here to
put up a schoolhouse. Don't you reckon
we could clean it up, and help the men to
build a schoolhouse?''
"I don't know, Abe. And if we had a
schoolhouse, who would teach school?"
*'You remember Mrs. Hodgen always
said we ought to have the cage ready be-
fore we catch the bird, and I believe we
should have the schoolhouse built before
we try to get a teacher. If Mrs. Hodgen
keeps on teaching me and I keep on learn-
ing I could teach a little myself."
Austin laughed at this and teased a
little.
248
TELL THE TRUTH 249
''That's all right," retorted Abe, ''I
could teach you some things now. I can
spell a lot of words, and can count up to a
hundred. I wish you would try to learn
something about reading and writing and
spelling and figuring."
"Don't want to learn," Austin replied,
''because it wouldn't do me any good. I
don't expect to be a preacher or a teacher,
and what good would it do for me to learn
things like that ? ' '
"Some of these times," answered Abe,
"you might want to sell a cow or a pig,
and you couldn't count your money; or
you might want to write something on a
tree, and you couldn't do that either. If
you would let me teach you what I know
now, by the time you learned that I'd
know more; so, you see, there would al-
ways be something I could teach you."
They were building a new ridge-road to
Elizabethtown. The settlers of that sec-
tion were working toward Hodgen's Mill,
and those of Hodgen Mill were working
250 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
toward Elizabethtown, each crew hoping
to meet the other half-way between the
two places before bad weather set in.
Abe and Austin kept the road-build-
ers in their vicinity supplied with water
from the hill spring. Each carried a cedar
bucket and gourd, and were required to
pass the water frequently as the heat was
intense. Whenever they found opportu-
nity, the boys would take an extra ax and
slash at one of the smaller trees.
(**Abe was a natural-born chopper,"
said Mr. GoUaher, "and I must admit he
could beat me at that kind of work, al-
though he was a good deal younger than I.
But he was larger, — he was the biggest
boy in Kentucky for his age — biggest in
body and mind.")
**Come here quick I" Austin called to
Abe, "I've cut my foot, and I've cut it
mighty bad, too."
Austin was panic-stricken, but Abe said
very quietly: "It ain't cut half as bad as
mine was the day the snake bit you. Take
TELL THE TRUTH 251
that moccasin off and we'll fix it. We'll
go to the spring, wash the blood off and
wrap your foot up in a piece of your
shirt-tail."
*'I don't want mother to find out about
this," Austin said, after Abe had fastened
the bandage. "I don't believe I'll limp
when I get home, and then she won't ever
know anything about it."
"Yes, she will," said Abe. "because
part of your shirt-tail is gone."
"That's so," Austin admitted. "WeU,
I '11 tell her Honey grabbed me and tore it
with his teeth."
"No, sir-ee, you won't!" said Abe em-
phatically. "You can't 'story' on Honey.
You'll just have to tell your mother the
truth. She won't whip you; she never
does. What are you afraid of ?"
"WeU, I'll tell you, Abe, I've been
bragging about being a good chopper, and
I don't want them to laugh at me."
"But you must tell the truth about that
shirt-tail. Your mother won't be mad
252 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
when she knows you might have bled to
death if we hadn't tied up your foot right
away."
*' Mother's going to be mad," insisted
Austin, ** because just the other day she
said she believed I'd have to have another
shirt before spring, and she told father
he must try to get some goods next time
he went to Elizabethtown or Bardstown."
*'I'll tell you what your mother can
do," suggested Abe. *'She can make a
new tail to your shirt out of the hide of
the wildcat you killed the day we were
fishing."
That suited Austin, and he wrapped his
moccasin about the injured foot and hur-
ried to the spring to get another bucket
of water for the roadbuilders.
Abe patted Honey's head and said:
*'No, Honey, I won't let Austin or any-
body fib on you. ' ' Then the boys, answer-
ing the call for *'more water," climbed
again to the top of the hill.
"Austin, they say there's a big book
TELL THE TRUTH 253
somewhere that tells all about wrappirig
up cuts and sores, and about giving medi-
cine made of herbs to sick people. If we
had that book and could read it, we could
learn a lot about such things, and would
know what to do the next time we get
hurt. And that's one reason you ought to
learn to read," concluded Abe.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE RIGHT TO FIGHT
CoRN-SHUCKiNG and house-raising par-
ties would not be popular to-day unless
each ** guest" was well paid for being
present. But in Kentucky one hundred
years ago, such invitations were accepted
with pleasure. The women, as well as the
men, attended these corn-shuckings, and
after the work was done, fiddles were
brought forth and the dancing began.
** Matches" were made between the boys
and girls, and there used to be a saying
that the girl who couldn't find a husband
at a corn-shucking social wasn't worth
shucks — that if she couldn't go from the
shucks to the dance, and from the dance
to the marriage altar within a month, she
would be an old maid.
254
THE RIGHT TO FIGHT 255
When a pioneer wished to build a new
house, or an addition to his old one, he
usually spent several weeks in felling and
hauling logs. Then, allowing a few days
for mishaps and delays, he sent word to
his neighbors that upon a certain day he
would give a house-raising party. At the
appointed time the good friends would be
on hand;
They were building a cabin for a newly-
married couple who had recently removed
from Virginia and bought some land
from Thomas Gollaher's father— Aus-
tin's grandfather. Abe and Austin were
allowed to go to the party, that they might
have some primary training in the busi-
ness of house-raising. During the day a
fight occurred between two of the men,
following a stormy dispute over the date
of a certain battle in the Revolutionary
War. Abraham watched the struggle
with little apparent concern, as he sat
upon a log, his chin resting in his hands.
When asked by an old man if he was not
256 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
afraid the men would hurt each other, he
very indifferently said he wasn't.
**And why?" asked the old man.
** Because," answered Abe, *'they have
no business fighting. If they had waited
until they got home their wives could have
settled the question; the women keep
dates of such things set down in writing,
and besides, there wasn't any need to
fight about the big war which was over so
long ago. I wouldn't have cared very
much if they had bloodied each other's
noses."
Now, Abraham was no doubt mistaken
as to the women having ''set down in writ-
ing" the dates of battles of the Revolu-
tion, but the women-folk of the back-
woods were the historians, and they kept
rather complete diaries, recording events
as told by the people or obtained from
borrowed papers and books. These dia-
ries were current, also. Deaths, mar-
riages, births and many other important
events were recorded, and ''mother's book
THE RIGHT TO FIGHT 257
of things," as it was called, was often re-
ferred to in settling disputes.
Abraham had no patience with men or
boys who tried to settle their differences
by personal encounters. He did not think
that ''fist-and-skuU" fighting, as they
called it, should be resorted to, unless one
had to ''hit" to keep from being ''hit."
"Austin, let me tell you something," he
said after the men had been separated,
"there is no use in fighting over dis-^dis
—(what do you call it?) dis— putes.
There's always somebody who can tell
which one is right and which one is
wrong. All they have to do is to wait a
little while until they can find a book, or
get Missus Sarah to tell them."
"But just suppose, Abe, somebody
calls you a bad name ; then what are you
going to do about it?"
"Just let him alone ; if you hate the boy
it's best not to hit him."
i i Why ? ' ' asked Austin.
"Because if you don't he'll go from bad
258 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
to worse, and will finally be whipped at
the public whipping post ; but if you gave
him a good pounding it might cure him, ' '
was Abe's characteristic reply. "Do you
know, Austin, what the public whipping
post is? It's a post where they tie bad
men and thieves and whip them where ev-
erybody can see the whipping; and they
say after a man is whipped at the public
whipping post he has to leave the coun-
try, for from that time on everybody will
make fun of him."
"Who whips him?" asked Austin.
"The law — the law gives some man the
right.
"I don't believe in fighting if it can be
helped," Abe went on. "You remember
the day father hit old Mr. Rolling Stone ;
well, father had to hit him because he was
fixing to cut father with a knife. I'd
have fought old Mr. Rolling Stone myself
that day he wanted to take Honey away
from me; I'd have fought him and
whipped him, and I'd have had the right
THE RIGHT TO FIGHT 259
to do it. You have a right to fight to
keep what belongs to you, and to make
people give up what doesn't belong to
them; but I think it's mighty wrong to
fight over little disputes.
''I'm glad they let us come over here to-
day," said Abe on the way home that
evening; ''I've learned a lot more about
getting the logs notched for putting them
together, and I can help with that church
and schoolhouse they are talking about
building over here on Knob Creek."
"And I'm glad, too," said Austin, "be-
cause I've been wanting to see a fight for
a long time."
CHAPTER XXXIII
ABE^S DREAM
The women-folk who lived near Knob
Creek met there twice each month during
the spring, summer and fall to do the
neighborhood washing. A slanting rock
was used for a wash-board ; limbs of trees
were stripped of their bark and the cloth-
ing spread over them to dry. The women-
folk gossiped and on one occasion even
told their dreams.
*' Don't tell your bad dreams before
breakfast," advised Joel Walters' eldest
daughter. **You know I dreamed Aunt
Mary Kastor was dead, told it before
breakfast, and within a week we buried
her. I wouldn't tell another bad dream
before breakfast for anything."
Mrs. Keith (Jonathan Keith had now
260
ABE'S DREAM 261
married a Miss Brownfield, and had
built a cabin so close to the Lincolns'
that they could talk from one to the oth-
er) related a dream of a man drowning in
the Rolling Fork River, and said: "I
woke Jonathan in the night and told him
of the dream. And just three weeks af-
ter that they found a man's body, all cov-
ered with mud, on the bank of the river."
Mrs. Gollaher then told in detail a
dream that had greatly impressed her.
She had dreamed that gold had been
found by the wagon-load back in the hills,
and people were rushing there from ev-
erywhere with picks and shovels, and that
heaps of the yellow ore was being hauled
by her house every day. The dream was
so real she believed there might be gold
in the hills, and sometimes she wanted to
go see for herself. She said that in her
dream President James Madison had
come from Washington City and was
overseeing the work of getting gold out
of the hills ; he said he was going to use it
262 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
to pay for building roads from one end of
the country to the other. "Then," she
added laughingly, "I was awakened by a
loud clap of thunder."
Abe, listening with wide-eyed interest,
asked Mrs. Gollaher if she believed there
was anything in dreams.
''Yes," she replied, "but you and Aus-
tin mustn't look for gold in that hill, be-
cause you might get lost. ' '
"I don't want any gold," answered
Abraham. "The reason I asked you if you
believe dreams come true, was because I
once had a dream which I have been
thinking about a heap."
"Then," said Mrs. Gollaher, "we want
to hear your dream. What was it
about?"
"Was it about your sweetheart?"
asked Mrs. Keith.
"No, ma'am; I haven't got any sweet-
heart. I did have one, but she said my
feet and hands were too big, and my legs
ABE'S DREAM 263
and arms too long, and that she liked the
Evans boy better than she did me ; so
Susie — Susie Enlow don't like me any-
more."
''Too bad, Abe," said another woman;
*'but we want to hear about your dream.
What was it?"
''Well," said Abe, "my dream was
about making a speech to a lot of people
in a big town, and "
Here the boy was interrupted by a
frightened scream from one of the chil-
dren and the general commotion that fol-
lowed. A large water snake had wrapped
itself about the little girl's leg. Austin,
the snake-charmer, tried his wiles, but the
reptile wouldn't charm, so he seized it by
the head and beat it to death upon the
rocks.
When the excitement was over they
tried to get Abe to finish his dream, but
he just shook his head and said: "There
wasn't much more to it."
264 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
*'Do you ever expect to make a speech
to a lot of people in a big town?'' asked
Mrs. Gollaher with a smile.
"I don't know, I might," Abraham
replied.
CHAPTER XXXIV
OFF THE SHEEP^S BACK
*'Abeaham_, do you see how heavy the
wool is on those sheep over there ? ' ' asked
Mrs. Hodgen, as the two were strolling
through a grove on the Hodgen farm.
*'Yes, ma'am, the white sheep look like
big snowballs and the black sheep look
like burnt backlogs."
''"Well," continued Mrs. Hodgen, "I'm
going to make you and Mr. John each a
suit of clothes out of that wool, and knit
you some socks, to keep you warm next
winter. ' '
"It will take almost as much wool to
make a suit for me as for Mr. John," said
Abraham. "Just look how long my arms
and legs are. They are growing twice as
fast as Austin's. If I keep on growing
265
266 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
taller, I'm afraid I'll have to live out-of-
doors. Father said the other day that by
the time I was fifteen he'd have to cut a
hole in the roof for my head to stick
through — when I was sitting down."
** You mustn't let people tease you about
your long legs and arms, Abraham.
Don't you know if your arms are longer
than those of other men you'll be able to
reach farther ?
** Suppose a fairy should hang a bag of
gold high in a tree, and would say to the
boys of your age around here, 'The first
boy who reaches the bag of gold, without
tiptoeing or jumping, may have it.'
Don't you know you would get it? And
maybe God gave you long legs so you
could travel faster toward success when
you are older.
**You must stop worrying and feel that
you were made that way so you could
reach big things with your hands and step
over perplexing things with your feet.
Anyhow," she continued, ''we'll make
OFF THE SHEEP ^S BACK 267
those two suits of clothes. You must ask
your mother to let you spend a week with
me so we can shear the sheep and get the
wool ready to spin."
It was fun for Abraham and he worked
faithfully with Mrs. Hodgen until the
new suits were made. The breeches
turned out to be three or four inches too
long, but when Mrs. Hodgen insisted on
cutting them off, he said: "No, they'll
be just right next month.''
''Where did you get your new suit,
Abe ?" asked a boy at the mill a few days
later.
"Mrs. Hodgen cut it off the sheep's
back and gave it to me," he answered.
"Yes," said Mr. Hodgen, "mother gave
Abe that suit and Abe gave me this one."
"No, sir," Abe quickly corrected, "Mis-
sus Sarah gave it to you."
"Didn't you help Missus Sarah shear
the sheep, spin the wool and weave the
cloth?"
"Yes, sir."
268 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
**Well, don't you think your services
are worth the suit you received?''
"A boy would have to work a whole
year for a suit like that," replied Abe.
"You must learn to charge what your
services are worth," Mr. Hodgen insisted.
* * Some men would work you a lifetime, if
you would allow it, and wouldn 't give you
a pair of socks. I say you earned your
suit of clothes."
Abraham made no a n s w e r — j u s t
grinned. But later in the day he said to
Mr. Hodgen, *'I reckon you're right about
some people letting you work a lifetime
and not giving you anything for it, if you
didn't make them. You know that old
man who works for Mr. Evans ? Well, I
asked him one day, when he was looking
so hungry, if Mr. Evans gave him three
meals a day. He said, *Yes, when I work
all day he gives me three meals, but when
it rains and I can't work, he won't even
give me my supper.' "
CHAPTER XXXV
THE HUMAN TEEE
A DEAD tree upon the summit of a high
hill is often so shaped by the storms of
years that, with the aid of imagination, it
may come to resemble a huge human
form ; and its shadow against the sky of-
ten fills the superstitious with awe.
There were a few people in the Knob
Creek section who believed the signs they
read in the dead trees on the hills. To
their distorted fancies the limbs of such a
tree might point in one direction to-day,
and in another the next. If one limb
pointed south, that meant in winter that
the weather was to be mild ; if in summer
the heat was to be excessive. It was an ill
omen if a limb pointed skyward. It
meant there was to be a death in the com-
269
270 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
munity, and the people who believed in
these predictions began to give more at-
tention to their prayers and their church
duties.
Thomas Lincoln was not without his
superstitions. It is related that once,
when on his way to visit a neighbor, he
saw a red bird and a black bird in the
same tree and that he immediately aban-
doned his journey and returned to his
home and his *' beautiful Nancy." He
had been told, and he believed, that the
two birds — the red and the black — when
together, foretold dire disaster to the com-
munity— bloodshed and sorrow.
Thomas Gollaher used to plague Mr.
Lincoln about his red-bird, black-bird
sign, but he quit when Mr. Lincoln dis-
covered that Mr. Gollaher would go two
miles out of his way to keep from meeting
a white mule before noon on Friday.
Some five miles from the Lincoln and
Gollaher homes, on the tallest peak of
Muldraugh Hill, stood the huge white
THE HUMAN TREE 271
trunk of a dead tree. Every limb except
two large ones, and every bit 'of bark had
been stripped from the tree by Old Fa-
ther Time, and it stood like a ragged sen-
tinel keeping watch over the valleys for
miles around. The two remaining limbs
resembled nothing so much as big, brawny
arms, while an immense knot looked not
unlike a human head. This ghost of the
woods could be plainly seen from the sur-
rounding hills, and there were more than
a few people had faith in its warnings and
belief in its predictions. The more sim-
ple-minded would climb the hill to com-
mune with the old white trunk whose
spirit had passed on and to bring home
with them tales which opened wide the
children's eyes and sent them creeping
fearfully to bed.
*'It is said," related Mr. Gollaher,
'Hhat on one occasion old man Pottinger
came home quivering with excitement and
announced that the tree was smoking a
pipe, a great stream of fire coming from
272 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
its mouth, and that its head was as high
as the clouds. He believed the end of the
world had come, and begged that the
neighborhood be notified, so that every
one might pray before the final collapse.
He was a maniac," said Mr. Gollaher,
**and they had to tie him to his bed and
keep him there until he died. Another
fellow had such faith in the tree that he
obeyed its * orders' under all circum-
stances. Whenever he thought one of the
arms pointed north, he was sure that win-
ter would soon set in ; on one occasion he
even gathered his perishable vegetables in
July, fearing a frost would come."
*'Abe," said Austin, *' let's climb up the
hill and look for the human tree. I don't
believe it's there," Austin went on, when
Abe had consented to go. *'I reckon since
old man Pottinger went crazy God has
blown it down."
"It's too cloudy," suggested Abe. "The
tree is still there, and we can see it as soon
as the sun comes out. There it is now,
THE HUMAN TREE 273
with its arms pointing over that way, and
over that way (one to the east, the other
to the west) , just like it pointed the last
time we saw it."
"Do you believe in it?" Austin asked.
Abe was looking down into the valley
below them and said: "Mr. Keith has six
sheep down there, Austin, and they're get-
ting big and fat." Then to Austin's ques-
tion he answered very emphatically,
"No."
"Look at its arm pointing over the hill ;
that ain't the way it pointed the last time
we saw it!" exclaimed Austin, much ex-
cited. "I believe that arm is pointing to
a hill that's got gold in it— the gold
mother dreamed of and told us about that
day down on Knob Creek. What do you
say to going over there some time to hunt
for it ? What color is gold, Abe ? ' '
"Yellow."
"It's red or yellow, I don't know which.
Will you go with me some time?"
"Somebody would have to go with you
274 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
because you don't know what gold looks
like. Why don't you get Mr. Hodgen to
show you some of it? He has plenty."
** Let's go to-morrow," pleaded Austin.
**I won't go at all," said Abe with a
tone of finality; ''I don't want any gold."
"You're afraid," accused Austin.
"No, I am not," Abe answered quietly;
"but I don't want gold. What could I do
with it •? " he asked in all seriousness.
"I'll tell you one thing you could do
with it," suggested Austin. "You could
send to Bardstown and buy that book
you've been wanting so long. What's the
name of it?"
'^R. Crusoe/' answered Abe. "I will
get that anyhow, pretty soon. Mrs. Hod-
gen is going to have it brought to me the
next time any of the men take a flat boat
of hides to Louisville."
"I want you to read part of it to me,
Abe, when you've learned to read it."
"Why don't you want to hear all of
it?"
^i<l*»liriHHv
Austin Gollaher, Lincoln's boyhood friend and playmate
THE HUMAN TREE 275
<('
I just wanted to find out why Mr.
Crusoe didn't name Friday 'Saturday'!"
Austin answered, grinning.
After a moment's silence: ''There
might be a bear over there," said Abe
meditatively.
"See!" replied Austin quickly, "I
hnew you were afraid."
"I'll go with you if our mothers will let
us," and as he spoke Abe turned to the
path leading home.
"Why, Abe, you know they won't let
us go. We'll have to slip off if we go at
all."
"I won't do that. It's too far to go
without telling them where we are going.
If they said we could go, and we got lost,
they would know about where to look for
us. Anyhow, there's no gold over there,
Austin, and if you keep on believing in
that old tree, they'll have to tie you to
your bed when you get old just like they
did old Mr. Pottinger. I don't believe in
that tree at all," Abe continued. "If I
276 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
wanted to believe in a tree I'd choose a big
live one with leaves on it. I might see
something in that to help me know
whether it's going to be hot or cold, or
whether it will rain or snow. But a dead
tree can't tell you anything."
"A few days after this conversation,"
said Mr. Gollaher in relating the story,
**some one in our neighborhood reported
that the body of a man, badly mutilated,
had been found at the foot of the very hill
that I wanted Abe to visit with me. At
first it was thought that the man had been
attacked by a hungry bear, but it devel-
oped later that he had been shot through
the head, perhaps by his own gun, and his
body mutilated by small animals. That
was the last time I ever asked Abe to
search for gold.
"Abe didn't care for money," con-
tinued Mr. Gollaher. "He'd have given
the whole hill of it for that book, R.
Crusoe/'
CHAPTER XXXVI
WHERE IS INDIAN ANNER
Abe arose from the split log bench in
front of the Hodgen home. "Let's go in
the house a minute, I want to ask Missus
Sarah something. ' '
"She's busy putting up berries," ob-
jected Austin, "and we oughtn't to bother
her now. ' '
Abe paid no attention to this, but, look-
ing very solemn, walked leisurely up the
narrow path to the house, Austin
following.
"For goodness' sake, Abe," Austin ex-
claimed, "don't you ever get tired of feel-
ing bad?"
Abe made no reply.
"Here, boys," said Mrs. Hodgen, "is
277
278 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
some bread and jam I was just fixing for
you.''
"Missus Sarah," asked Abe presently,
wiping the jam from his mouth, ''where
is Indian Anner?"
"I don't know, Abe, I never heard of it.
Why do you ask?"
"Because father keeps talking about
going there to live, and mother don't want
to go and neither do I. "
"Oh!" said Mrs. Hodgen, laughing
heartily, "you mean Indiana. Well, In-
diana is several miles from here. You
have to cross a big river called the Ohio
before you get there. That river sepa-
rates Indiana from Kentucky just like
the Rolling Fork separates this county
from Nelson County."
"The Ohio — the Ohio River," Abe re-
peated. "Wasn't it close to that river
that father's father was killed by the
Indians?"
"Yes, your grandfather, Abraham Lin-
coln, was killed there, and your uncle,
WHERE IS INDIAN ANNER 279
only a little boy, shot and killed an Indian
just as he was ready to strike your father
with a tomahawk. ' '
** Abraham Lincoln,'' said Abe medita-
tivel}^, * ' I was named for him and for Mr.
Abraham Enlow, too. I'm named for two
men; maybe that's what makes my name
harder to spell than Austin's," he said
dryly. ''I don't want to go, Mrs. Hod-
gen, but if father makes mother go, I'll
have to go, too. We've got everything
cleaned up around here, and now we'll
have to clean up over there. We've got
our schoolhouse done and the church
nearly finished, and what more do we
want? But father says big game is get-
ting scarce around here, and I reckon he
thinks there's more of it across the Ohio
River. I wish he'd go in partners with
Mr. Gollaher raising corn, and stay
here."
"Don't you remember what the
preacher said, Abraham, that everything
is for the best?" asked Mrs. Hodgen.
280 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOIJ^N
*' Yes, ma'am. Parson Gentry said that
over in the Church of Maple Trees, but I
would have to study over that a long time
before I could believe it; it sounds
mighty funny to me," and the boy shook
his head.
** Let's go look for that coon Mr. Hod-
gen was telling us about, ' ' said Austin.
"We'd better get our meal and go
home; it's too late now, and anyway I'm
not going to let Honey kill a coon," said
Abe in that tone of finality which Austin
understood so well. ''I'm feeling funny
down where my heart is, and I want to
swing in Sarah's swing and see if I can't
blow some of this lump out of my throat."
The two lads trudged silently along the
narrow road for some distance, then Abe
began :
*'You know, Austin, if we go to that
place across the big river, I'll never get
back. It's hard to get across Knob Creek
sometimes, and I know I could never cross
that big river ; so when I tell you good-by
WHERE IS INDIAN ANNER 281
I reckon 111 never see you again. I'll
give you the crow and the coon, and maybe
I'll give you the goat. But I'm going to
take Honey. Now, Austin," and Abe
spoke very slowly, "you tell your father
to tell mine that if he'll stay here, your
father will help him with his crops every
year ; and when I get bigger I '11 help your
father do anything he wants done."
Austin agreed to do this, but added:
*'You know your father never thinks
about crops. Maybe if father would tell
him he'd go partners and set a lot more
traps, he'd be more willing to stay."
*'No, don't do that; father has enough
traps. I'd rather he would raise more
corn.
"Austin, I'm learning to write a little
bit, and if we go to Indiana I'll write you
a letter and tell you about things over
there. I'll give it to somebody passing
and ask him to give it to somebody else
and some time you would come across the
man that had the letter and he would give
282 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
it to you. I wish you would learn to read
and write. You know how I learned,
don't you?"
**Yes," Austin replied.
^' Let's drive some stobs in the ground
and tie a hen, a cat and a dog to them, and
I'll teach you just like Mrs. Hodgen
taught me."
Austin agreed, and the next day Abe
opened school, but it was slow work be-
cause Austin couldn't fix his mind upon
his studies.
''Abe was very patient," said Mr. Gol-
laher, ''though he got mad two or three
times, and I said, 'Abe, you are mad at
me.' He apologized by saying he had
been told that school-teachers had to pre-
tend they were mad sometimes to make
the children learn, and he was just acting
that way to see if I'd pay more attention.
"After a time I did learn to spell hen,
cat and dog, and could write these words
pretty well. Abe seemed very happy over
my progress, and said, with as much en-
WHERE IS INDIAN ANNER 283
thusiasm as he ever displayed, *Now,
Austin, if we do go to Indi — Indiana, I '11
write to you about a cat, a dog and a hen,
and I know you can read that much of my
letter."
CHAPTER XXXVII
A FIGHT AND A STRANGER
**Abe had his likes and dislikes," said
Mr. Gollaher, "and while always sympa-
thetic and loving, he was not what might
be called a 'goody-goody' boy. He never
cringed though he often cried, and met
every situation with a heart as strong as
God ever put in human breast. He was
a man through and through.
*' Abe's resentments were mild, but pos-
itive. I have often seen him, in the most
unconcerned way, make older boys 'show
the white feather.' Once, at a picnic, a
young man spoke rudely to my mother be-
cause she reproved him for grabbing a lot
of fried chicken from a tin pan. Abe took
up the matter :
" 'You mustn't talk that way to Mrs.
284 .
A FIGHT AND A STRANGER 285
Gollaher; she's too good to everybody to
have a big buck like you talk mean to her. '
*' ^What are you going to do about it?'
asked the young man.
" *Well,' said Abe, 'I haven't made up
my mind what I'll do about it, but there
are a good many things I could do, and I'll
just show you one of them.'
*' With that he jumped up like a kanga-
roo and wound his long arms about the
boy's neck, his long legs around his body,
and they rolled to the ground.
*^ 'Don't do that, boys,' cried mother.
** 'We are not fighting,' said the young
man who had 'sassed' mother, 'are we,
Aber
" 'No, sir,' answered Abe, 'it's just a
little friendly contest like Mr. John Hod-
gen holds down at the mill sometimes be-
tween boys, just to see which is the best
man.'
"Both boys were now on their feet, and
Abe said: 'I think you ought to tell Mrs.
Gollaher you are sorry. '
286 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
''The young fellow at once stepped up
to mother and said: 'Mrs. Gollaher, I
acted mighty bad and I'm sorry/
"Well, sir, that did mother lots of good
and made her think even more of Abe
than ever. She told Mrs. Lincoln about it
that evening, and kissed Abe on the fore-
head and said she believed she thought as
much of him as she did of her own
children.
' ' Then I said : ' Mother, you tell me not
to fight, and you are kissing Abe because
he did fight.'
" 'No,' said mother, 'Abe wasn't fight-
ing, and besides he had a right to make
the boy behave. Abe never picks a quar-
rel— he tries to stay out of them. If we
were to encourage you, Austin, you
would be fighting all of the time.' "
One day on the way to Knob Creek
school, of which Abe was so proud, and of
which he often told his friends after he
became president, he was accosted by a
man who said he wanted to buy Honey.
A FIGHT AND A STRANGER 287
Abe wouldn't listen to such a thing and
told the man positively Honey wasn't for
sale, at any price. Something about the
stranger was not pleasing to Abe. His
face was ugly and hard, and Abe told Aus-
tin the man reminded him of the rotten
trunk of a small tree down on Knob
Creek.
*'The stranger had a crippled hand,"
said Mr. Gollaher, **only one finger, and
the arm was twisted and bent. The man
inquired about the cattle and sheep, es-
pecially the sheep in the community ; said
he was selling a remedy that would make
the wool on a sheep grow twice as fast,
and that would make a cow give twice as
much milk. When Abe returned home
that evening he told his mother of meet-
ing the stranger and added that he didn't
like the man's face, and thought the peo-
ple had better be on the lookout, for he
might be crazy and poison a lot of sheep
and cows.
"Four or five days later John Hodgen
288 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
found the carcasses of three of his best
sheep way over there in the woods, two
miles from home. They had been skinned
and the skins taken ; no doubt slaughtered
for the skins. The same thing happened
a few days later to several of Mr. Pottin-
ger^s sheep, over in Nelson County.
*'0f course, there was much excitement,
and the whole neighborhood was aroused.
Mr. Pottinger found a trail of blood lead-
ing through a dense woods, and followed
it until it was lost, but still kept up the
hunt for the culprit, remaining in the
woods two days and two nights. On the
third night he came upon two men skin-
ning a big sheep belonging to my grand-
father. Mr. Pottinger didn't try to arrest
the men, but raised his rifle and shot the
largest one through the breast. The
smaller man escaped. Everybody in the
neighborhood went to my grandfather's
farm the next day to view the remains of
the culprit. As soon as Abe saw the man's
crippled arm and hand he said: 'Honey
A FIGHT AND A STRANGER 289
was right ; liis liair wouldn't have bristled
and lie wouldn't have growled so if lie
hadn't known that was a bad man.
'* 'What do you think about Mr. Pot-
tinger killing the man?' I asked excit-
edly. 'I'm glad of it, because he might
have killed some of us. '
" 'Well,' said Abe, 'I don't care much
myself. I'm just sorry that the man was
a thief. I reckon he's better off, and I
know the people around here are. I hope
he didn't have any little children who are
looking for him to come home. '
"Indeed, Abraham Lincoln, the child,
had much of the human in him," contin-
ued Mr. Gollaher. "When he stood there
looking down upon the body of the
stranger he was perhaps the coolest one
in the crowd. He knew the man should
have been killed. The slaughter of the
sheep just for their hides was enough for
Abe. He had no sympathy to waste — he
was just sorry the man was a thief.
That was all."
CHAPTER XXXVIII
FOR THE BEST
The children of the frontiersman who
lived in the little cabins on the hills or the
larger ones in the valleys, were happy
youngsters, because they were so close to
the world as God made it; wearing coats
of buckskin, moccasins of calfskin and
caps of coonskins, they faced joyously the
winter's cold, breathing the purity of
frozen fields and woods ; and in summer,
in flimsy aprons or long-tailed shirts,
they sought the beauties of the silent
hills; they loved the music of the moun-
tain stream, the singing of the birds, and
the whisper of the wind among the trees.
They knew little of the world beyond, and
were happy in the velvet gloom of the
forest.
290
FOR THE BEST 291
** Abraham," said Mrs. Lincoln one
morning, ''we are going to Mr. Hodgen's
grove to-morrow to hear the Bible read,
and I want you and Austin to listen
closely. And you must fix up and try to
keep clean. Many children will be there
and I want their mothers to point to you
as good examples for their boys."
The great host of people, gathered in
the grove, spread a feast under the trees
at noon, and everybody was enjoying it
until Austin got a fish-bone in his throat.
"There was considerable excitement,"
said Mr. Gollaher, "until Mr. Enlow ran
his big fingers down my throat and pulled
the bone out."
A little son of Joel Walters was there
with a goat hitched to a cart. Abe and
Austin were greatly interested, though
they listened strictly to the reading. But
as soon as the benediction was pro-
nounced they turned their attention to the
outfit.
John Hodgen watched the boys for a
292 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
moment, smiling, and then called them
over to his workshop and presented Abe
with a cart. ^'I just finished it to-day,"
he said, ''and I have given it to you, Abe,
because you have the goat; but you un-
derstand that Austin is to use it when-
ever he wants to. You are partners in
nearly everything, and I want you to be
partners in this, too."
"Austin can have the goat and cart any
time he wants them," assured Abe, "and
we will always play with them together,
because I don't want to drive the goat un-
less Austin is with me."
"And that's not all; go tell Missus Sa-
rah to come here." When she came, smil-
ing, Mr. Hodgen said: "Mother, where 's
that set of harness you made for Abe's
bill5^-goat?"
"Well, our joy was complete, never
were boys happier and I was just as inter-
ested in that cart and harness as if they
were mine," said Mr. Gollaher, "because
I knew Abe would always divide up with
FOR THE BEST 293
me. They were wonderful presents," he
continued; **the backwoods boy's highest
ambition was to own such a team."
*'I wonder what Mr. and Mrs. Hodgen
are talking about," said Austin; ''they've
been over there ever since they gave you
the harness and cart. See, they are mo-
tioning to us;" and both boys started off
at a trot.
''Austin," began Mr. Hodgen, "next
spring I want you to help me at the mill ;
I have talked to your father and he is will-
ing. Of course I'll pay you for your
work."
Abe's head dropped, and he turned to
leave. Then Missus Sarah threw her
arms about him and pulled his big sad
face up close to her own.
"Now, my boy, I want to talk to you. I
want to tell you something, and I don't
want you to be heartbroken; I want you
to be the big, wonderful manly boy that
you always are. You won't be with us
next spring, or you know Mr. John would
294 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
have given you a place in his mill, too.
Mr. John told Austin about the place
while you were here because he knew you
would be glad for Austin. Your father
has finally decided to move to Indiana be-
fore winter sets in ; to start about the first
of November."
The tears were now gushing from Abe's
eyes, and his sobs were pathetic, but he
only said : "I don 't w^ant to go. ' '
^'Abraham," said the good little wom-
an, ^*I didn't want to tell you to-day,
but your mother insisted on it. Don't cry
any more, please, but make up your mind
the move is for the best, and don't let your
mother know how bad you feel. You can
come back to see us some time, and, if you
are good young men you and Austin can
take Mr. John's mill and run it."
Abe promised, but he said: *' Missus
Sarah, I don't reckon I will ever come
back."
And on the way home, the tears still
glistening in his eyes, he said: "Mother,
FOR THE BEST 295
it may be good for all of us in Indiana.
We may settle close to some school, and
after I have done my day's work, maybe
father will let me borrow some books
from the teacher, and I will read and
learn something by the pine-knot fire at
night."
I
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE LAST OF BILLY
Near the Lincoln and Gollalier houses,
upon a hill, stood a tall elm, spread like a
big umbrella. Near its trunk circled the
ridge-road, winding on to Hodgen's Mill,
thence to Elizabethtown and on to the
Ohio River, where some enterprising
**Hoosiers" plied a fleet of flat boats for
those Kentuckians who wanted to cross
over and continue their journey through
southern Indiana hills until the trail
dipped into wide thoroughfares leading to
the big cities of the East.
The old elm tree, when its foliage was
full, offered shelter to the wayfarers. It
had become so popular that some thought-
ful pioneer had placed smooth maple logs
around its trunk — an inviting seat for
296
THE LAST OF BILLY 297
weary travelers. The tree stood in the
center of the hill, welcoming all who
passed that way. To the north the hill
dropped rather suddenly toward Knob
Creek, to the south it sloped gently to the
valley.
Austin thought no better place could
have been selected to introduce the goat to
the cart and harness than the top of Elm
Tree Hill, and against Abe's better judg-
ment, it was there they made the trial — to
see just what Billy would do when
^Hiooked up." It took only a few min-
utes for him to show them what he would
do. He bowed his neck, tucked his head,
bellowed a loud protest, and with a high
leap went over the hill, rolling like a ball
to Knob Creek below. To the lads on the
hill it looked like an irreparable accident.
"Austin," said Abe, "we were not care-
ful enough. I knew this wasn't the place
to hitch Billy to the cart. A goat is like a
mule ; he's just as apt to go one way as the
other."
298 THE BOYHOOD OF LIN,COLN
"Well," said Austin, "I don't believe
anything was hurt much; look at him
standing down there with his nose in the
water."
* Tunny, wasn't it?" remarked Abe, af-
ter a careful examination of the outfit.
** Nothing much hurt, but the next time
we won't choose the top of a hill. I once
heard father say he 'd never take a mule to
the top of a hill, that there was no telling
when he would take a fool notion to back
off. Why, it was right up here some-
where, close to this hill, that Mr. McDou-
gal's mule backed over a ledge, when the
family was passing through this part of
the country, and killed their youngest
child. Mrs. McDougal was so heartbroken
she wouldn't go any farther, and that's
how they happened to locate here.
Mother remembers all about it, and she
says God has lots of strange ways of
changing people's plans. So to-morrow
we'll try to break Billy in the corn-field."
But the boys had another mission on
THE LAST OF BILLY 299
Elm Tree Hill. They had been directed
to keep a lookout for a preacher who had
sent word he was coming to begin the pre-
liminary work of conducting a camp-
meeting in the Church of Maple Trees,
and the boys sought the shelter of the tree
to keep their vigil. Abe was unusually
reticent ; his sad eyes were fairly devour-
ing the hills and valleys as the September
haze hung low over the tree-tops.
^*I wish that preacher would hurry up
if he's coming," said Abe impatiently.
*'I don't want to stay up here any longer ;
I'm tired and I feel like there's a big rock
in my breast. I don't want to go to Indi-
ana; I don't want to leave you; I don't
want to leave this Hill and Knob Creek ;
I don't want to leave Mr. and Mrs. Hod-
gen, and your mother and father and little
sister and brother; I want to stay here
and work in Mr. Hodgen's mill next
spring. I think about it all the time,"
Abe continued pathetically, **and last
night I dreamed about it. I dreamed we
300 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
were there, and we had no water, and we
were all thirsty, and mother fell sick and
was begging for water, and I tried to come
back to the spring there by our house, but
I couldn't cross the Ohio River ; and when
I got back home sister told me an angel
had come and had taken mother to
Heaven, where they had water upon ev-
ery hill in dippers of gold."
Austin was amazed at Abe's dream and
asked: ''Why didn't you take your
mother a drink from the Ohio River?"
** Because," Abe solemnly answered,
**the water was muddy, and big ugly cat-
fish were swimming around in it. Then I
got wide awake and didn't go to sleep any
more, and before the sun was up Honey
and I went to the spring for a bucket of
water."
Abe and Austin watched for the
preacher until twilight; then the two
heart-sore boys started home to report his
failure to appear. Billy followed, and
Austin pulled the cart.
THE LAST OF BILLY 301
"Austin,'* said Abe, "I don't see why
Billy couldn't have pulled the cart like
you are pulling it. "
"I don't either," said Austin, "except
that Billy ain't as old as I am, and goats
don't have as much sense as people, any-
how." To which Abe very solemnly re-
plied that he didn't believe the goat would
ever be as smart as Austin.
Bright and early the next morning the
boys went to the corn-field and after
many attempts finally got Billy har-
nessed to the cart and were ready for the
second test. Billy reared and fell back-
ward. He butted and bowed and bel-
lowed, then laid down.
"Let him rest a while," suggested Aus-
tin, "and when he gets up maybe he'll
take a notion to go."
And he did. He went like a whirlwind,
jumping and butting, Abe holding to one
line and Austin the other, but giving Billy
all the freedom he needed. He circled the
field and tried to climb the rail fence, but
302 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
the boys pulled him back. They gave him
more rein and he scooted away, the boys
holding him within ' the limit of their
speed. At the end of the field, Billy
stopped suddenly, then plunged high into
the air and fell to his destruction upon
the sharp stub of a sapling.
Both boys were stricken with grief, but
Abe gathered his wits quickly and said:
**It couldn't be helped. Billy did it him-
self. There is no need to cry, Austin.
Well come down here after dinner and
bury Billy. I tried to be good to him, but
he never seemed to like me much. You
can have the cart and harness when I go
to Indiana, and maybe you'll get a goat
sometime, and can break him before he
gets too old to learn. I won't have time
any more for goats. Father says I am a
pretty good chopper and will be a great
help to him in clearing the land."
CHAPTER XL
THE END OF PLAYTIME
The first tinge of frost came with the
closing days of September — a sign that
the winter would be late. Thomas Lin-
coln had never known this sign to fail, and
he was well pleased, for he hoped to get
comfortably settled in his Indiana home
before the severe weather set in. His prep-
arations were going forward so slowly,
however, that Mrs. Lincoln was becoming
much disturbed. The horrors of that
February blizzard in 1809 were still fresh
in her memory and she was afraid a like
disaster might overtake them if they did
not reach Indiana before the winter
began.
With the exception of gathering a little
bacon here and grinding a little corn
303
304 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
there, Mr. Lincoln had done nothing in
preparation for the journey. And he
could do nothing until he procured a horse
or mule to hitch to the old spring wagon
he managed to pick up at Elizabethtown.
That was his chief trouble. He had no
money and his only chance to get a work
animal was to swap pelts, corn and to-
bacco for it. He had tried to make such a
trade, but in vain, because the settlers who
owned horses and mules needed them.
Down at the mill Mr. Lincoln was tell-
ing his troubles to Mr. Hodgen; but the
miller was entirely out of sympathy with
the Indiana project, and had often, and
heatedly, advised against the move.
** Thomas," said Mr. Hodgen, "I am
much interested in you and your family,
and I want to see them comfortable.
Now, since I know your mind is finally
made up, and nothing short of your own
death could change it, I am going to make
a proposition to you. You can't make
that trip with one horse. Your wagon is
THE END OF PLAYTIME 305
too heavy. Your family can't walk, so
you must not start with one animal. Now,
if you can manage to trade for Jonathan
Keith's mule, or any other, I will make
Abraham a present of old Fanny. The
mare is old but in good condition, and
would help pull you out of many a mud-
hole between here and your journey's
end."
Mr. Lincoln was most gi^ateful for this
unexpected kindness, and promised to get
the mule from Mr. Keith, or one just as
good. On his way home that afternoon,
walking with Abe and Austin, he lifted up
his head and thanked God for the good-
ness of John Hodgen.
But Abe said: "Father, you'd better
wait until you get the mule, because if you
don't get it you can't get old Fanny, and
I've heard Mr. Keith say lots of times he
wouldn't take anything for that mule."
"Maybe he won't, but he ought to," re-
plied Mr. Lincoln, "because if it hadn't
been for us Jonathan Keith wouldn't be
306 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
here. He was nearly dead that day we
found him over on the Rolling Fork
propped against a tree."
**Abe was right," said Mr. Gollaher,
"Mr. Keith would not hear of such a
thing. Then Mr. Lincoln began to search
in earnest and one evening he came home
leading a horse that was a sight to behold.
Besides being old and thin, it had a
twisted foot. Mr. Lincoln had traded a
few pelts for it. My father declared he
wouldn't give his oldest coonskin cap for
the animal, but Mr. Hodgen said he would
keep his promise on one condition:
*Feed the horse well for four weeks, then
I will examine him, and if I feel that it
will be safe for you to start on the jour-
ney, I will hand old Fanny over to you, as
Abe's property.' And Mr. Lincoln ac-
cepted the condition. He thought of
nothing now except going to Indiana, and
spent practically all of his time looking
after the horse. He rubbed it forty times
a day and fed it everything he could get
THE END OF PLAYTIME 307
it to eat. It was siir]3rising, ' ' laughed Mr.
Gollalier, *^how that old plug felt his oats ;
he actually tried to rear up one day ; then
I said, *Abe, you'll be moving pretty
soon.' My father made one more appeal
to Mr. Lincoln to wait until spring, but he
just shook his head and said, *I'm going.'
**Mrs. Lincoln and Sarah didn't men-
tion Indiana when they could avoid it,
and Abe was as silent as the grave. There
was gloom in the little cabin, and all of us
felt mighty sorry for the Lincolns," con-
cluded Mr. Gollaher. He was silent for a
moment, then went on :
**Out there on the bank of South Fork
— close to Cave Spring Farm, in the old
cemetery, an infant brother of Abe is
buried; his name was Thomas Lincoln,
Junior. In recent years we have tried to
find the grave, but we never could. Mrs.
Lincoln wanted to be buried there; that
was one of the reasons she didn't want to
settle in Indiana. A few days before they
left, my mother, Sarah, Abe and myself
308 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
went with her to say good-by to the grave
of her baby. We went in their old spring
wagon, pulled by Mr. Keith's mule and
one of my father's. Mrs. Lincoln covered
the grave with wild flowers and vines we
had gathered along the way. Then we all
kneeled down there on the hillside and my
mother prayed while Mrs. Lincoln said
good-by to the little mound under the
sheltering trees. On the way back we
stopped at the Old Cave Spring to get a
drink of that good water ; and we climbed
the hill to the cabin in which Abe was
born, that his mother might look on it
once again before she left."
Abe's playtime in the hills had ended;
Lis heart was heavy when he went among
them, and he would often weep as he sat
upon their moss-covered rocks. His sad-
ness deepened and he said little when with
Austin, except to beg him to learn to read
and write.
*'I, too, was sorrowful," said Mr. Gol-
laher; ^'indeed, I nearly broke down. I
M
THE END OF PLAYTIME 309
looked upon his departure with dread.
My love for him, which came suddenly
into my heart when I was trying to teach
him to ride a stick-horse out there on the
Cave Spring Farm, was past the under-
standing of even my own people.
*'One day he said to me: 'Austin,
did you ever hear them tell about how a
poor fellow feels the day before he is to be
hung? Well, that's the way I feel, only
worse. I'm always going to be sad,' he
went on, *but I'm going to try to learn
something, and if I do, I am going to
teach other little boys to read and write.
We won't be together much longer, Aus-
tin, and we can't hear from each other ; so
111 tell you what we will do. Every
morning when the sun comes up, and ev-
ery evening when it goes down, you think
of me and I'll think of you. You know
Mrs. McDougal said she promised her
mother to do that when she came here, and
she has kept it up ever since. We will
just do that,' said Abe slowly, *and I will
310 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
know you are thinking of me and you will
know I am thinking of you — when the sun
comes up and when the sun goes down.' "
Mr. Gollaher says he kept this up for a
long time, and thought of Abe with all his
strength, and he believed Abe did the
same thing.
'*But I reckon he finally quit, because
when he grew older he had many impor-
tant things to do, among them that of be-
ing president of the United States," and
the old man wagged his head and
chuckled.
**A million times since he left here I
have seen him in these hills with Honey,"
the old fellow said. *' Why, just the other
day I went down to Knob Creek — down
by the Nice Stone, and there I saw Abe —
the boy — with that sad strange expres-
sion upon his face, and I whispered, 'Abe,
you went out into the world on an errand
for God, and now you've come back to
play with me. Call Honey and we will go
out in the woods and pester the squirrels,'
THE END OF PLAYTIME 311
but just then I heard the dinner horn and
I tottered back to the house where I have
lived for nearly a century — lived and
thought of Abe, and thanked God that He
honored me by letting me be Abe's
playmate."
CHAPTER XLI
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
The November sun came up over the
hills bigger and brighter than usual that
morning as if to cast its glints of gold in
the path of the Lincolns at they traveled
the road to Indiana.
The spring wagon to which the two old
horses were hitched, stood in front of the
Lincoln cabin. The cow, securely hal-
tered, with Abe and Austin at its head,
was ready to follow the wagon over the
road to Hodgen's Mill, and on to Middle
Creek.
Mrs. Lincoln and Sarah said good-by
to the Gollahers ; Abe had received his last
hug from Austin 's mother, and all the lit-
tle GoUaher children had hugged and
kissed him. Mrs. Lincoln and Sarah
312
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 313
were seated on a bed of straw in the front
of the wagon, and all were ready for the
departure.
Mr. Gollaher and Austin were going
along as far as Middle Creek, to help with
the cow, which was a little unruly, greatly
to Austin's delight. With much waving
of hands, but in silence, the journey was
begun. The tears were rolling down Mrs.
Lincoln's cheeks, and Sarah was wiping
her eyes with her apron. Thomas Lin-
coln and Thomas Gollaher were in the
lead. Side by side they walked and talked
of their plans.
On top of the hill— Elm Tree Hill— Abe
glanced back for a moment at the cabin
home, now deserted, then turned his eyes
resolutely to the red clay road that
stretched ahead of him and moved along
with the free swing of the native back-
woodsman.
They stopped at Hodgen's Mill, where
Mr. John and Missus Sarah were waiting
for them, with a basket of food for the
314 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
journey. Abe and Austin looked around
the old familiar mill. Austin cried a lit-
tle, but Abe touched him gently with the
palm of his hand as he said : ''Maybe it's
best for us to go. I may come back some
time, and then we'll run the mill for Mr.
John."
Mrs. Hodgen said good-by with tears in
her eyes — those great kind eyes that al-
ways sought out the ways of goodness and
ever looked with love on Abraham. She
hugged him close and said :
''May God bless you, my boy, and di-
rect you in paths of righteousness. I feel
that you have some wonderful duties be-
fore you, and I know you will meet them
well."
"Good-by, Tom: take good care of
Mrs. Lincoln and the children — and old
Fanny," said John Hodgen. Then he
slipped a small gold piece into Abe's
hand, saying : ' ' Buy a book with it, son. ' '
The cow stopped to drink down at the
ford below the gum-spring. The boys
THE PAETING OF THE WAYS 315
looked up-stream toward the old mill
where they had spent so many happy
days. Austin's eyes were filled with
tears, but Abe did not cry. He was re-
signed to the inevitable at last, and so
turned his eyes with grim determination
to the task before him.
They reached Middle Creek about noon
and had lunch before the final parting.
But Abe could not eat ; that heavy '*rock"
in his breast, of which he so often com-
plained, was now heavier than ever.
^* Abraham," pleaded his mother, "for
my sake you must eat. You must keep up
your strength. I will need you greatly
when we are settled. You are a man, my
son," she continued, "although in years
you are still a child. ' '
"Abe obeyed his mother," said Mr. Gol-
laher, "but he choked the food down just
to please her."
"Good-by, folks," said Thomas GoUa-
her; "take care of them, Tom, and God
bless all of you."
316 THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
*'Good-by, Austin," said Abe simply,
and the two boys wound their arms
around each other. Then Abe broke away
and led the cow across the stream, Honey
following.
"I watched them as they ascended the
hill," said Mr. Gollaher, *Hhe wagon in
front, Abe and Honey and the cow be-
hind ; I watched Abe — I watched him till
the highest peak of his coonskin cap
ducked below the hills, and then I fell
upon my father's neck and sobbed."
THE END
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