and began to toss shillings, quarters, and half dollars on the hearth, which rang as they fell. The father heard the jingling, and sat up in bed, gazing with astonishment at the growing pile.

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'Wife, give me a chaw of tobacco," he said. He took the quid, sat more erect, spat at the fire, and gazed at the shining pieces of silver.

"There is $215.12. Besides this, I have got Berry's horse, saddle, and bridle in the stable, and his and Lincoln's notes for $200," said the

son.

"Wife, get up! Billy must have some supper-the best you can get. Billy, I won't thresh you in the morning. You are a good boy-good boy!" (")

It was a dull winter for trade. Although Berry and Lincoln were the only store-keepers in New Salem, they were not making much head

way in business. The farmers had little produce to sell, conse1833. quently could not purchase many goods. Berry, the while, was drinking whiskey, and Lincoln was thinking of what was going on in South Carolina and in Congress rather than how to increase trade. South Carolina was proposing to pass a law to nullify the acts of Congress, because a tariff was to be collected on goods brought from other countries. In Congress Daniel Webster, of Massachusetts, made a speech on the Constitution and the Union which electrified the country; President Jackson uttered a solemn oath that the Union should be preserved. All of which was interesting reading to Lincoln.

The partners thought they might make money by keeping a tavern, and took out a license, which prescribed the prices they might charge per pint for liquors: French brandy, 25 cents; peach brandy, 183 cents; apple brandy, 12 cents; Holland gin, 183 cents; wine, 25 cents; rum, 183 cents; whiskey, 12 cents. Meals, 25 cents each; lodging, 12 cents. Horse for the night, 25 cents. Breakfast, dinner, or supper for passengers in the stage, 37 cents.

The project of keeping a tavern was not carried out. The store was sold to Trent Brothers. They had no money, but gave their notes. Lincoln and Berry had given their own notes-first to the Herndons, then to Green. From the beginning the transactions were pretty much in notes. No one seemed to look forward to the time when they would become due, or made any preparation for such an event. The Trents probably had no thought of ever paying. They would get what they could for the goods and leave town. Berry became a loathsome sot and died. Abraham Lincoln found himself held on the joint notes which had been given to the Herndons and to Green. He could not

pay them, but did not repudiate them. He had put in no capital. If the creditors would not harass him he would do his best to pay them.

Years went by, the debts hanging like a millstone about his neck, but were paid finally, principal and interest, to the last cent. He would not have been true to him

self, would not have been Abraham Lincoln, had he not done so.

The little money he had when the Trents took

the store was soon gone. His board bill at Rutledge's tavern was due. He would like to spend his time in reading; but there was no chafing of spirit as he shouldered his axe and went down the hill-side to the woods along the river, chopping down trees in order to obtain splints, which he carried to a shanty, where his evenings were spent reseating chairs.

He was twenty-four years old, without an oc

COLN'S STORE.

[From a photograph by C. S. McCullough, Petersburg, Ill.]

cupation, and did not know for what he was fitted. He would like to be a lawyer. He had not forgotten the plea of lawyer Breckenridge in Indiana. He had come in contact with the prominent lawyers of Springfield Stephen T. Logan and Major John T. Stuart. The last named served with him in the war with the Indians. His old comrade was very kind, and loaned him a law-book. The people of New Salem sometimes saw him stretched upon the ground beneath an oak-tree studying it. Russell Godby wanted a hand to help harvest his corn and gave him work. He was astonished to see his new hand, when resting, seated on a stump reading a book. Never before had he beheld a fellow with a book in the field.

"What are you reading, Abe?"

"I am not reading; I am studying."

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Studying! What, I should like to know?" "Law, sir."

"Great God Almighty!" exclaimed Godby. It was not a profane expression, but one of astonishment.

When the book was finished, the farm hand walked to Springfield and obtained another from his friend. He earned money enough to pay his board by assisting Mr. Ellis, who had opened a store. When a customer came he put his book aside, but took it up again the moment he was at leisure.

1838.

Just how it happened is not known, but he was appointed postmaster. President Jackson was a Democrat, and did not appoint many Whigs to office; for he had given utterance to the expression, "To the victors belong the spoils." Lincoln was in a Democratic community, but was popular with Whigs and Democrats alike. So few letters came to New Salem that the revenue would hardly pay him for the trouble of receiving and sending the weekly mail. His hat was the post-office. He thrust the letters into it, and kindly carried them to the people in the village to whom they were addressed.

The young postmaster at New Salem greatly admired Henry Clay, of Kentucky, who had been Senator, and also member of President John Quincy Adams's Cabinet. In 1829 a young man, George D. Prentice, who was born in Connecticut, established a newspaper, the "New England Review," at Hartford, in that State. He had graduated at Brown University, and was a very able and witty writer. His poems were appearing in the newspapers. Mr. Clay was a candidate for the Presidency, and Mr. Prentice was employed to write his life. So it came about that John G. Whittier, whom the world has since heard of, became editor of

the "Review," and Mr. Prentice went to Kentucky and prepared a life of Mr. Clay, a copy of which fell into the hands of the young postmaster at New Salem, who read it with great care, and who accepted the political principles of the Kentucky statesman. Mr. Clay needed a newspaper to set forth his principles, and Mr. Prentice accordingly estab

lished the "Louisville Journal," for which the postmaster at New Salem had subscribed. He found great pleasure in reading its witty and pungent paragraphs to the loungers in Mr. Hill's store, such as

the following:

"An editor in Indiana threatens to handle us without gloves. We certainly would never think of handling him without three pair, and thick ones at that."

“What would you do, madam, if you were a gentleman ?”

"Sir, what would you do if you were one ?"

"Strange that a dinner to which a man has not been invited is generally the one that sits hardest on the stomach."

It is certain that he must have laughed heartily over Mr. Prentice's account of what happened in Louisville:

"Mr. Trotter, without provocation, attempted to shoot Mr. Clark in the street. Mr. O'Hara, friend of Trotter, made an attack upon Mr. Bryant, associate of Clark. Bryant gave O'Hara an effectual cudgelling, and then laid his cane over the head and shoulders of Mr. Trotter till the latter cried for quarter. There the matter ended. Mr. Clark retired to reload his pistols, Mr. Bryant to purchase a new cane, and Mr. Trotter and Mr. O'Hara to get their heads mended."

Mr. Trotter was editor of the "Louisville Gazette," and said in his paper: "The infamy of George D. Prentice is notorious. He is shunned by all honorable men. The mark of Cain is on his brow."

"Mr. George Trotter," wrote Prentice, in reply, "says that the mark of Cain is on our brow. We don't know about that; but we do know that the mark of cane is on his back."

It seems probable that Mr. Prentice greatly influenced Abraham Lincoln in forming his political opinions. The paper which came to New Salem-its able editorials upon the questions of the day and the measures before Congress-were read with as keen a zest as its witty and sarcastic lines.

People from the Eastern States brought books, which the postmaster borrowed. He read Baldwin's History, Gibbon's works, and the novels of Mrs. Caroline Lee Hentz. (*)

The civilization of New Salem was still of the frontier type. The Clary Grove ruffians and many others delighted in cock-fights. Mr. McNab had a rooster which he boasted could whip any other cock in Sangamon. Another fellow was sure his chicken was the best bird. Bets were made, the day fixed, and the cocks tossed into the ring. McNab's, instead of fighting, flew to the fence, clapped its wings, and gave a lusty crow. "You are mighty fine on dress parade, but not much at fighting," said McNab, who paid his bet amid the laughter of