Abraham Lincoln

by Augusta Stevenson

  Abe didn’t mind that. He was used to cold at home, and so were the other pupils.

  The schoolroom wasn’t very light, either. It had only two small windows, and they were made of greased paper.

  Abe didn’t mind that, and neither did the others. That was what they had at home, if they had windows at all.

  The pupils sat on benches without backs. They had to sit on those benches for hours and hours. The children’s backs grew tired.

  But Abe didn’t mind that. None of the pupils did. They all sat on stools and benches at home. Of course the Lincoln family had chairs now, but not enough to go around. So Abe always used a stool.

  At first Abe was in the class with younger pupils. Some of them were only six years old, and Abe was eleven!

  But he didn’t care—he was determined to learn. He studied so hard and learned so fast he was soon in the class of older children.

  Every night he studied his lessons while his brother and sisters and cousin were playing.

  Mr. Lincoln didn’t like to see Abe study at home, but he couldn’t say much because Mrs. Lincoln wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t allow the other children to bother Abe, either.

  “Abe is studying,” she would say, and that settled it.

  The Lincolns couldn’t afford to burn candles every night, so Abe studied by firelight. He didn’t have a pencil, so he used a partly-burned stick of wood. He didn’t have paper, so he used a wooden shovel.

  He was determined to learn.

  Mrs. Lincoln was proud of Abe. She told the neighbors how hard he studied, and they told their neighbors.

  Before long everyone in the Pigeon Creek Settlement knew about it, and they all tried to help the boy.

  They couldn’t do much because they were all poor, and few of them could read or write. But if they had books they loaned them to Abe.

  Abe was glad to have these books. He would walk miles and miles to borrow a book and miles and miles to return it.

  He read every book again and again until he knew it almost by heart. Then he would tell the stories to his good stepmother, who listened eagerly to every word.

  So Abe went on studying, reading, learning. And always back of him stood that splendid stepmother, Sarah Johnston Lincoln.

  “Abe is studying,” she would say. And that settled it.

  AT THE END OF EACH ROW

  When spring came, Abe had to stop school. His father needed him to help make a new field.

  The Lincolns now had a large family. Such a large family meant more bread; more bread meant more wheat; more wheat meant a new field.

  A new field meant the cutting down of many giant forest trees. Every tree that fell meant a great heavy log to cut and a great heavy stump to dig up and burn.

  Such hard work kept them all busy—Mr. Lincoln, John, Dennis, and Abe. At daylight they were up and at work; at sundown they went home. Then they ate supper and went to bed—all except Abe.

  Tired as he was, he studied every night, sometimes till midnight and past midnight.

  He even took books to the field and read while he was plowing.

  The ground was so rough that plowing was hard on the horses. It made them tired to pull the heavy plow. They had to rest at the end of each row. While they rested, Abe read. Not one minute was wasted.

  Sometimes he worked arithmetic problems. He always carried a partly-burned stick in his pocket, and he wrote on fence rails and ends of logs.

  Mr. Lincoln didn’t like this, but what could he say? The horses had to rest, didn’t they?

  Sometimes Abe would make a speech, which always delighted John and Dennis. It delighted others, too. Farm boys in nearby fields would leave their plows and come running to hear Abe speak. He always told funny stories, and the boys would laugh and laugh.

  Mr. Lincoln didn’t like this, either. “It won’t do,” he said. “You are taking the boys away from their work.”

  “They work all the harder afterward,” said Abe. “They laugh and forget they are tired.”

  “But I don’t want you making speeches,” said Mr. Lincoln. “It’s time wasted. You can’t be a lawyer.”

  “Maybe I can some day,” said Abe. “I’d like to be a lawyer.”

  “That’s nonsense, Abe. You’ll never have a chance to study law.”

  “I’ll make the chance,” said Abe.

  “You can’t do it,” said Mr. Lincoln. “I can’t help you; I’m too poor. All you can ever do is farm work.”

  “But I want to work with books,” said Abe.

  “Books!” said his father. “Always books! What is all this studying going to do for you? What do you think you are going to be?”

  “Why,” said Abe, “I’m going to be president.” Then Abe laughed. John laughed and Dennis laughed and Mr. Lincoln laughed, too. It was a good joke. Abe Lincoln, president! Ha, ha, ha!

  BORROWED BOOKS

  New settlers moved to the Pigeon Creek Settlement. They came in big wagons and built log cabins in the woods. They cleared fields for corn and wheat. They made vegetable gardens close to their cabins.

  The old settlers went to see their new neighbors and told them about the church and the school. Then, nine times out of ten, they boasted about Abe Lincoln.

  “He reads books,” they said. “He reads by the light of the fire, and he reads till midnight and past midnight.”

  “Till midnight!” said the new settlers. “Till past midnight! Why, we never heard anything like it.”

  “We lend him our books,” the old settlers said. “He will walk miles to borrow them.”

  “Will he return them?” the new settlers asked.

  “Yes,” said the old settlers, “he always returns them. And he brings them back as good as they were when he borrowed them.”

  Then the new settlers looked through their things. If they found a book, they loaned it to Abe, who always returned it. And the book was always as good as it was when he borrowed it.

  Once Abe borrowed The Life of George Washington. He was delighted with this book, and he made up his mind then and there that he would try to be like Washington—always honest and always loyal to his country.

  He read on and on, till midnight and past midnight. Then he had to go to bed, but he took the book to the loft with him.

  “I’ll read it in the morning,” he said to himself, “before the others are up.”

  He put the book in a crack between two logs. Then he went to sleep.

  That night there was a snowstorm, and the snow blew into the loft through the wide cracks. Abe woke up early. What was this? Snow on his bed! Snow on the floor! And worst of all, snow on The Life of George Washington!

  Abe felt very bad. The pages were not wet, but the book cover was ruined. He knew he should pay for the book. But he had no money.

  So what did Abe do? Did he pretend he had lost the book? Did he pretend someone had taken it?

  No indeed! Abe took the book straight to the owner and explained the ruined cover. Then he offered to work for the man until the book was paid for.

  “Very well,” said the man. “You may work three days for me, husking corn.”

  Abe worked the three days from sunrise till sunset. And then he had a big surprise. The man gave him the book!

  Abe was delighted. He took the book home and read it again and again. Each time he read it he became more and more determined to be like General George Washington, twice president of the United States.

  HAVING FUN

  Abe loved his books, but he wasn’t reading every minute when he wasn’t working in the fields or woods. He liked to tell stories and ask riddles. He liked nothing better than playing good jokes on other people.

  One year his mother finished her spring house-cleaning early. She was proud of the cabin, for she had whitewashed the ceiling.

  “I suppose that smoke from the fireplace will make the ceiling dirty again very soon,” she sighed. “Anyway, let’s all try to keep it clean as long as we can.”

  A few weeks
later one of the neighbors came to the Lincoln cabin early in the morning. His wife was sick, and he wanted Mrs. Lincoln to go home with him and care for her. He had brought along his little boy, David.

  “I’d be obliged if David could stay here today,” the neighbor said.

  Mrs. Lincoln left at once with the neighbor, and David stayed with the Lincolns. Mr. Lincoln was away, but the children could take care of themselves and David, too.

  When Abe came to the cabin for dinner, he found David playing outside the door. There had been some rain, and the yard was muddy. The little boy’s feet were muddy, too.

  “Wipe off your feet before you come in,” Matilda called to David. Then and there Abe had an idea.

  “Leave the mud on your feet, David,” Abe said, “and let me carry you into the cabin.”

  Abe picked up the little boy and took him inside. “I have thought of a good joke to play on Mother,” he said.

  Then, while the other children watched and laughed, Abe held David upside down and let him “walk” on the ceiling. The muddy footprints looked very funny!

  Late that evening, the neighbor brought Mrs. Lincoln home. His wife was feeling much better, and she wanted David to come home with his father.

  After the neighbor and David left, Abe began to read. Nobody said a word about the tracks on the ceiling, but everyone was waiting for Mrs. Lincoln to notice them.

  At first she was too busy finding out how the girls had managed without her. When at last she saw the tracks, she gasped.

  “Oh, the ceiling!” she wailed. “What happened to the clean ceiling?”

  She looked at Abe. He was hiding behind his book, but he couldn’t keep from laughing. Then the other children laughed, and finally Mrs. Lincoln laughed, too.

  Abe did no more reading that evening. He was busy washing mud off the ceiling. He didn’t care. After all, he didn’t have a chance to play such a good joke very often.

  Sometimes Abe had fun with the other boys who lived on Pigeon Creek. He played games with them, he ran races, he jumped, he lifted weights and wrestled.

  These boys were all farm boys. They worked in the fields and woods, and they were very strong.

  But Abe Lincoln was the strongest of them all.

  He could run faster than any of them. “That is because my legs are so long,” he said.

  He could jump higher than any of them. “That is because my neck is so long,” he said.

  He could move bigger logs than any of them. “That is because my arms are so long,” he said.

  He could throw any of them when they wrestled. “That is because my hands are so big,” he said.

  Abe always gave reasons like those. He never bragged about himself. The boys liked him for that. They liked him, too, because he never cheated and because he was fair to each side.

  They saw that they could always trust Abe, so they made him their leader.

  Now, these boys didn’t study very hard when they were in school, and they didn’t read books between times or at any time.

  “What good will books do us?” they said. “We’ll have to work in the fields all our lives.”

  When they talked this way, Abe didn’t argue with them. Instead, he usually told them a story. The other boys couldn’t understand why Abe liked to read, but they could understand his stories. They never guessed that Abe found many of his stories in books.

  THE PREACHER COMES

  IT WAS LATE in the afternoon, but Abe was still working in the forest. He was chopping down trees, and he had been working all day.

  He was tired and wanted to stop. He looked at the sun. No, he couldn’t stop yet. The sun was still above the treetops. Abe could tell the time by the sun as well as anyone else could by a clock.

  Now Abe was alone in the woods. He might have stopped work. There was no one to see and no one to tell. But Abe was honest. He kept right on chopping.

  “Abe! Abe!” someone called.

  “Here I am!” called Abe.

  A minute later his sister Sarah came down the path.

  “Abe,” she said, “guess who has come!”

  “I can’t guess,” said Abe. “Who is it?”

  “It’s the preacher!” Sarah said. “He’s going to stay for supper and all night.”

  “I’m glad,” said Abe. “I like to hear him talk. But I can’t stop work for an hour or so.”

  “Father said that you should stop now,” said Sarah.

  “Stop now!” said Abe. “I can’t understand why I should stop early.”

  “I can’t either,” said Sarah, “but that’s what Father said. He wants you to come right away. And Mother said you should wash before you come into the cabin.”

  “I always do, don’t I?”

  “Sometimes you forget, Abe.”

  “Maybe I do sometimes.”

  Then Abe swung his ax over his shoulder and went home with Sarah.

  He washed extra well. He combed his hair extra well. Then he went into the cabin.

  “Here is Abe,” said Mrs. Lincoln, but she didn’t smile.

  “The preacher has something to say to you, Abe,” said Mr. Lincoln, and he didn’t smile.

  “Good evening, Abe,” said the preacher, and he didn’t smile either.

  Abe couldn’t understand. The preacher had always joked and laughed with him before.

  “Pastor,” said Mr. Lincoln, “tell Abe just why you came.”

  The preacher looked at Abe. “Abe,” he said, “I heard that you had been making fun of me. You preached and you made the boys laugh.”

  “Oh—oh, yes,” said Abe.

  “You coughed just as I do,” said the preacher, “and the boys laughed at that.”

  “Oh—oh, yes,” said poor Abe again.

  “And you stood as I do, one leg out, the other leg in. Didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Abe.

  “And, worst of all, you blew your nose as I do. Didn’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Abe. “But really I wasn’t making fun of you, sir. I was just trying to preach.”

  “That was it,” said Mrs. Lincoln. “Abe wanted to preach, and so, of course, he tried to copy you. He didn’t know any other way.”

  “Sarah, you are always making excuses for Abe,” said Mr. Lincoln.

  “You laughed at Abe’s preaching yourself, Thomas,” said Mrs. Lincoln.

  Thomas didn’t know what to say to this. So he said, “Never mind, we won’t talk about that.” Then he turned to the preacher and said, “Pastor, I’m going to whip Abe for making fun of you.”

  “Thomas!” said Mrs. Lincoln. “Don’t whip Abe! He didn’t know he was doing wrong.”

  Mr. Lincoln didn’t answer her. He took a leather strap from a peg.

  “Abe,” he said, “go out in the yard.”

  Abe crossed to the door. Mr. Lincoln followed him.

  Suddenly a strong hand seized Mr. Lincoln’s arm and took the leather strap.

  “Don’t touch the boy!” said the preacher. “I was only joking. I thought you knew that. Abe was really helping me when he tried to preach for the other boys.”

  “Helping you!” said Mr. Lincoln. “I don’t understand.”

  “Why,” said the preacher, “every one of those boys came to meeting last Sunday.”

  “They just went to make fun of you,” said Mr. Lincoln.

  “Of course,” said the preacher. “But they stayed, and some of them joined the church. I never held such a meeting. It was splendid.”

  “Well, well!” said Mr. Lincoln, “I’m surprised to hear that.”

  “I’m not surprised,” said Mrs. Lincoln.

  Abe didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

  The preacher put his arm around Abe. “My boy,” he said, “just go on preaching. Your jokes will do a lot of good in the world.”

  ABE THINKS OF OTHERS

  ONE DAY ABE went to the creek to fish. He didn’t fish with his hands now. He had a pole and line.

  On the b
ank stood four boys. They were looking at something on the ground, and they were laughing and shouting.

  “I wonder what they are looking at,” Abe said to himself.

  He went up to them and looked over their heads. There, on the ground, was a large mud turtle. Its shell had been broken. It was trying to crawl, but it couldn’t. It could only jerk and quiver.

  Abe saw that it was suffering, and he was very angry. He knew that one of the boys had hurt it.

  He pushed the boys back. “Stand back!” he said. “Let me have that turtle!”

  “You can’t have it!” said the largest boy. “It’s my turtle. I found it.”

  “You broke its back, didn’t you?” said Abe.

  “Yes, I did,” said the boy. “I wanted to see how it would crawl. I knew it would look funny.”

  “I wonder how you would crawl if I broke your back,” said Abe. “I wonder if you would look funny.”

  The boy saw that Abe was very angry, and he was afraid of him. He knew how strong Abe was, because he had seen him wrestle. So he didn’t say another word. He didn’t laugh again, either.

  The other boys stopped laughing, too. They were all afraid of Abe.

  Abe picked up the turtle gently and put it into the creek.

  Then Abe said, “Boys, God made that mud turtle. Do you think he wanted you to hurt it?”

  The boys hung their heads.

  “Do you think God would laugh at its poor broken back?”

  The boys still looked at the ground. They were ashamed to look at Abe.

  He went on: “Do you think God laughed when it quivered and jerked?”

  There was silence for a moment, then a boy said, “I am sorry I laughed, Abe.”

  “I am sorry I laughed,” said another boy.

  “I didn’t know a turtle suffered,” said the largest boy. “It’s nothing but an animal.”

  “Animals suffer just as much as we do,” said Abe. “I found a dog once, with a broken leg. It was crying just like a child. No child could have suffered more.”

  “I’ll never hurt an animal again,” said the largest boy. “If I do you may lick me, Abe.”