1820.

home. He did not say whither he was going; possibly he had some misgivings as to the outcome of his journey, and thought it wise to say nothing. He reached Elizabethtown, Kentucky, where he had learned to be a carpenter. He called upon Sarah Bush Johnston, a widow with three children-John, Sarah, and Matilda. Mrs. Johnston had been his playmate in his boyhood. When he became a young man he asked her to marry him; but she had accepted Mr. Johnston instead. It was evening when Mr. Lincoln entered her home.

"Do you remember me, Mrs. Johnston ?"

"Oh yes; you are Tommy Lincoln. It is long since you moved from Elizabethtown

fourteen years or more."

"Yes; but I have come, Mrs. Johnston, to see if you will be my wife. You and I are old friends. My children need a mother, and I would like to have you go home with me."

It was an unexpected request.

Why, Mr. Lincoln! I could not go at once. I am owing some debts, and I could not go till they are paid."

Such in substance was the conversation, according to the story that has come to us. Mr. Lincoln found she owed about $12, and he called upon the creditors and paid them. In the morning a marriage-license was obtained, and they became husband and wife during the day. (')

Ralph Krume, who married Mr. Lincoln's sister, kindly offered to take the whole family to Indiana in his four-horse wagon. They reached the Ohio River, were ferried across in a flat- boat, and then made their way through the woods to Pigeon Creek. Just what Sarah and Abraham Lincoln thought when they saw a wagon drawn by four horses, in which was a new mother, a new brother, and two new sisters, a bureau, feather-beds, and chairs, we do not know; neither do we know the

thoughts that flashed through the mind of Sarah Bush Lincoln as she entered the uncompleted cabin, and beheld her newly-acquired daughter and son, their clothes worn to tatters. But her coming brought about a new order of things. A door was hung, a floor laid, a window provided, and neatness and order established.

With eight in the family-three romping girls and three rollicking boys, for Dennis Hanks was there-the cabin was no longer a place of gloom, but a home ringing with merry voices. It was Abraham who told funny stories and asked puzzling questions.

The time had come for Pigeon Creek to have a school-house. The settlers felled the trees, cut the trunks into suitable lengths, notched

the logs, and rolled them into place. Having no glass, thin strips 1822. of wood were fastened across the opening left for a window, on which greased paper was pasted. Azel Dorsey was employed as teacher. Reading, writing, spelling, and arithmetic were taught. The ambition of the boys of Pigeon Creek was not to stand at the head of the class, but to be champions in wrestling, throw a weight farthest, and, in a fight, strike the hardest blow.

Abraham Lincoln was ready to try his strength with them in wrestling, and if any fun was going on he could do his part in making things lively. He began no quarrel, but allowed no one to pick upon him. Somehow, if there was any dispute, the other boys appealed to him to say what was right and fair.

There is humor in the lines which he wrote in his arithmetic:

"Abraham Lincoln,

His hand and pen;

He will be good,

But God knows when." (4)

After a few weeks with Dorsey, two years went by before the settlers felt able to employ another teacher. Abraham Lincoln, the while, was

reading Defoe's "Robinson Crusoe," Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Prog1824. ress," and Weems' "Life of Washington." (") He borrowed the last-named book of Josiah Crawford, and unfortunately laid it where the rain wet the leaves. Mr. Crawford charged him 75 cents for the damage done the volume. Having no money, he paid the bill by working three days in Crawford's cornfield. () He was growing strong enough to swing, an axe, and help clear the land and hoe corn. His father wanted him to be a carpenter, and was teaching him to use the saw and chisel.

With eight in the family, a bag of meal quickly disappeared. It was fifteen miles or more to the nearest corn-mill, which was not driven by water, but by a horse attached to a sweep and going round in a circle. The customer furnished the horse for the grinding. Abraham went to the mill with a bag of corn, harnessed the mare, and struck her with a stick. He was going to say, "Get up, you old hussy!" The words "get up" fell from his lips, and then he became unconscious, caused by a kick from the mare. Hours passed. Suddenly those who stood around him heard the rest of the sentence-" you ok hussy." In after-years he thus explained it: "Probably the muscles of my tongue had been set to speak the words when the animal's heels knocked me down, and my mind, like a gun, stopped half-cocked, and only went off when consciousness returned." (")

People in Pigeon Creek had few opportunities of hearing what was going on in the world. Once in a while a newspaper found its way into the settlement. By going to Gentry's Landing, on the Ohio River, they could have a talk with boatmen from Cincinnati and Louisville. Occasionally a traveller passed a night at Gentryville, and talked with those who spent their evenings in Jones's store. Abraham Lincoln was the one who usually asked questions. (*) He made everybody good-natured by what he himself had to say. People were talking of the "hard times." At Pittsburg flour would bring only $1 a barrel. Whiskey could be had for 15 cents a gallon. Tea cost $1 a pound. Twelve barrels of flour would purchase one yard of "broad" cloth. (") Times were hard in the Eastern as well as the Western States. People had doleful stories to tell of privation and suffering: how the sheriffs of Pennsylvania and other States were turning men and women out of doors because they could not pay their debts. The jails were filled with poor debtors. (") But good news came from Washington. Congress had passed a law reducing the price of land to $1.25 per acre.

With whiskey costing only 15 cents a gallon, we need not wonder that men drank more than was good for them. Abraham Lincoln did not drink intoxicating liquor. (") On a bitter cold night, as he and others were on their way home from Jones's store, they came upon a drunken man. The others went on, but Abraham, sixteen years old, strong and kind-hearted, shouldered the man and carried him to a cabin, doubtless saving the poor fellow from freezing. (")

Thomas Lincoln thought that his son had been to school long enough. He could read, write, and cipher, and was ahead of any other boy in Pigeon Creek. Was not that sufficient? He wanted him to help