In The Boyhood of Lincoln

APOD'S INCRE

the good-humored people of Spencer County, and here anecdotes and stories used to be told which Abraham Lincoln in his political life made famous. The merry pioneers little thought that their rude stories would ever be told at great political meetings, to generals and statesmen, and help to make cl

, and of John and Dennis Hanks, who belonged to the family of Abraham's mother. The schoolmaster must have liked the place, and the traveling ministers tarried long there when they brought their horses to be shod. In fact, the news-s

s and adventures of pioneer life, rude in fact

e afternoon of the ne

nt ye to see the blacksmith. We all like to see th

them. The forge was low, and the blacksmit

the preacher over to call on you-he's a Tunker-has been to see

e leather chair, and make yourself a

llinois, but I have never been h

ling at t

a preacher; we haven't any goodness to spare. You come from foreign parts, I take it. Well, well, there's room for a world of people out here in the woods

e you. You are great-hear

Let me start

book-keepin' that beats the schools. There's one of them there. The blacksmith keeps all of his accounts by it. I've go

s with a coal, as are sometimes put on a blackboard by a singing-master. On the lo

, hain't ye? Yes. The woods are full of 'em. Well, that ain't neither here nor there. This is how it works: A man comes here to have his horse shod-minister, may be; short, don't pay. Nothin' to pay with but funeral sermo

aces you could along that line, how much

ything of the kind before? No. It's a new and original way. We do a great lot o' thinkin' down here in

in his own odd way, and another would say, "That reminds me," and tell a similar story that was intended to excee

AHAM WEN

go to sleep and are lost to the world entirely, and we wake up again. We die, and leave our bodies, and the soul-memory wakes a

big stone attached to a heavy pole like a well-sweep, so as to pound heavy, up a

l, he didn't use to get back until sundown. Then came Gordon and built his mill almost right here among us-a horse-mill with a windlass, all mighty handy: just hitch the horse to a windlass and pole, and

day I says

to Gordon's to mill. The meal-tub is

hine; hasn't any capers nor antics-just as sober as a minister. I should have no more thought of his kicki

said, as always, 'Get up, you old jade!' I always say that, so Abe does. He didn't mean any d

sound of the grindin' was low, when he began to lag, sleepy-like. Abe he run up behind him, and said, 'Get up, you old j

is stick, a

-clap when the sun was shinin', he h'isted up his heels and kicked Abraham in the head, an

ugh he was dead. They thought he was dead. They got some water, and worked over him a spe

And so I should have been had Abraham died. Sometimes I think like it was the Evil One that possessed that horse. It don

sciousness they call it-all at once, in an instant. And wh

d wild-like, and there was the critter standin' still as the mill-stun.' Now, where do

nce discussed the same curious incident with his law-partner Herndon, and

ung in the northern sky, and grew slowl

rally get a tempest about this time of year, when winter finally breaks up into spring. Well,

ings of the early missionaries. He used to wander about among the new settlements, and was very proud of himself and his own tribe and race. He had an honest h

poor Johnni

on him, g

ld do if

re Johnnie

e blacksmith's shop, and watched the gath

. "Lay down, Jac

g forge. One of them seemed tired, and lay down besi

ions became known as "Sykes's Dog," though this may be a later New Salem story. It was an odd and a coarse bit of humor. Linco

ell. I thought that the time had come to put an end to this kind of criticism, so one day, when a delegation called to see me and had spent a half-hour, and

y of Sykes's dog?' I said to t

No

ys counseled how to get rid of him. They finally fixed up a cartridge with a long fuse, and put the cartridge in a piece of meat, and then sat down on a fence and called the dog, one of them holding the fuse in his hand. The dog swallowed the meat, cartridge and all, and sto

-'I guess that Pemberton's forces will never amount to much again-a

had been pursued by a small but vicious dog, and one of them had caught and held him by the tail while the oth

im

at

e do

at

e let go o

In the darkest times of his life at the White House his mind used to return for illustration to the stories told at this b

aham Lincoln's cousin, who frequented the smithy, was also a natural story-teller. The stories which had their origin here evolved and grew, and became known in all the rude cabins. Then, when Abraham Lincoln became

ed. There was an occasional ru

d, you tell us the story. Tell us how Aunt Olive frighten

It thunders. You must get Aunt

mith to Jasper. "Kongapod would tell it to y

ing crash of thunder, a light wind, a few drops of rain, a darker a

are over the sea. Tell us a story-a German story. Let me put the old leather chair up here before the fire. If you will tell us one of those

cksmith enlivened the fire, which lit up the shop

has its lesson true, and there is nothing truer in this world than the heart of a shepherd's

, as do all stories that have a soul; and it is only stories that have souls that live

r. Their name was Gragstein. The old man kept a shepherd dog that had been faithful to him for

ple were seated by the f

e. We must live snugger than ever. We shall hardly have enough to keep us two. It will be a long time be

u have me do?'

f us, and we have h

with him? He is old, and I could

oot him, and run and leave him. I know it is hard,

t and shoot him! Why, a man's last friends are his God, his mothe

though he understood. He bent his large eyes on the old woman and

h he understood wh

a deal. The storm will be over by morning. Hear the showers of the leaves! The fall wind is rending the forest. 'Tis seventy falls that we have seen, and we will

He seemed to comprehend. He looked into his master's face

ight into the storm? But let him go, and then I can talk easier about the

the dog disappeared in the darkn

r the matter, and Gragstein promised his wif

old woman, 'but Providen

was heard a wild, pitiful

' asked the old

as Fai

far a

strange. There it is

ld hut before. The next day he did not come, nor the next. The old couple missed h

old, and the old man would go forth to h

o alone,' said he. 'I wish t

y on the hill. He haunts me. Every night, when I put out the light, I can hear him howl out in t

ld morning after a snow. The old woman watched him f

be old and poor.

do. She set the candle in the window, and went to the door and called a hundred times, and listened, bu

followed his tracks into the forests, over a cliff, and down to a stream of running water. They came

We will find his body in the spring. I pity his po

tiful howl on the oth

' said

ame out of the snow tents of firs. His voice was wea

s the stream!'

nd fallen trees across the ice. The dog

y found Gragstein, ready to

can not last long. Take me

appened?' as

. He rescued me, but I was numb. He lay down on me and wa

, and gave him food. Then they called the d

u Gragstein came out to meet them. The dog saw her and s

l air, and stopped and listened. But she never heard that sound again. The next morning she opened the door and looked out. There, under a bench where his master had often caressed him in the summer eveni

will make you better.

over, leaving behind

," said John Hanks. "There are huma

k to Pigeon Creek. We won't have to tell that there story about her and the wig, and Johnnie Kongapod here. She'll tell it to you herself, el

y to Pigeon Creek came into the blacksmith's

e. Well, that's what I tell 'em in conference-meetin's-turn to the right and keep straight ahead, and they'll get there; and then I sing out, and shout, 'I'm bound for the kingdom!' Come over and see me, elder. I'm good to everybody except lazy people.-Abraham Lincoln, what are you lazing around

away and disappear

ed sunset, like a sea, spread over the prairie, th

k to Pigeon Cre

queer?" he asked-"a littl

n't think much of me. I am not lazy. I long for learning! I will have it. I learn everything I can from every one, and I do all I can for every one. She calls me lazy, though I have been good to her. They say I am a lively boy, and I like to be thought well of here, and when I hear such thi

coln met them at the door. A beautiful evening followed the tempest

hem came Aunt Olive, whose missionary work among her neighbors was as untiring as her tongue. And last among the callers

ded in an episode that left a strange, mysterious

story of my courtship

aid a mild,

that story, though I do think it is to her credit, if simple honesty is a thing to be respected. Sally is an honest woman. I d

to a deep shadow near the open door. His feelings had been wounded. Young Abraham Linco

poor as I was lonesome, although I did have a little beforehand. Well, Sally was a widder, and used to imagine that she must be lonesome, too; and I thought at last, after that there view of the ca

d I, 'do you

well. You are Tommy Linken. What

' said I, 'my

' said she, a

o, and a good wife she was; and I've

Sally did, and never s

ke me, Sall

Tommy L

ou

nough to marry you, but I could never

Wh

ld never ask a man who had offer

r all about

ood folks, how much do you suppose Sally owed? Twelve dolla

nto my pocket and run. When I came back,

marry me no

,' sa

l her things and started on our weddin' tour to Indiany, and here we be now. Now that is wh

shadow, with young Abraham b

said Mr. Lincoln, "and we think that kind o' Injuns

moved into the light of th

hat story that I

ned to die, and that he asked to go home and see his f

homas L

he spent his night with his family in weepin' and

homas L

t they s

homas L

ould believe that, I c

as well as a white

ught it

ay laugh at my poetry, but the Great Spirit will do by Johnnie Kongapod as he would have Johnnie Kongapod do by him if Johnnie Kongapod held

k River. Likely you'll see the Pictured Rocks on the Mississippi-dragons there. Who painted 'em? Or Starved Rock on the Illinois, where a whole tribe died with the water sparklin' under their eyes. But if you ever come across any

rst into anoth

stepped before him and looked him in the face. The Indian's red

d on the Indian's shoulder. "Johnny Ko

Aunt Olive, who arose indignantly and hurried away, an

ires, and by traveling preachers and missionaries who had faith in Indian character. Among those settlers who held all Indians to be bad it was

it, and I honor you for believing it. It is a

Rhine! And yet, for the tall boy by that cabin fire new America had an opportunity that Germany could offer to no peasant'

nce. Jasper saw what the Indian's story was, though he had heard it only indi

am Lincoln when i