“That is just what I will do,” said Abe.
He meant what he said, and the boys knew that he meant it.
HUNTING WILD TURKEYS
One day Abe was busy with his ax, splitting some rails. Two boys came along, with their guns over their shoulders.
“Where are you going?” Abe asked.
“Hunting,” the bigger boy answered. “There are lots of wild turkeys in the woods.”
“Why don’t you get a gun and come with us?” asked the other boy.
Abe leaned on his ax and thought for a moment. He didn’t know whether he wanted to go hunting or not. He knew how to use a gun, but he didn’t enjoy hunting. He hated to kill or even hurt any living thing. Still it would be fun to be with the other boys.
At last he said, “I’ve never hunted turkeys, but I’d like to go with you. I must finish splitting these rails first, though.”
The boys waited. It wasn’t long before the rails were all split and piled up neatly.
Then Abe got a gun from the cabin and went with the boys. They were careful where they stepped. They knew that any noise would frighten the birds and animals.
They had not gone far when Abe stopped suddenly. Without saying a word, he pointed to two turkeys feeding in the underbrush.
“You shoot, Abe,” one boy whispered. “You saw them first.”
Abe took careful aim and fired. One turkey toppled over, and the other flew off.
“You got it!” shouted the boys, as they ran toward the turkey. Abe felt as if his feet were rooted to the ground. He didn’t want to look at the bird he had shot.
“Come on, Abe!” called one of the boys. “See what a big turkey you shot. I’ll bet it weighs at least twenty pounds.”
Abe walked slowly to the turkey. The wings of the big bird were still flapping feebly.
“It’s too bad we didn’t shoot the other one,” the bigger boy said, “but turkeys usually stay in flocks. There should be others around if the shot didn’t frighten them too much.”
“Pick up your bird, Abe,” said the other boy. “Probably we’ll have to do some walking before we find any more turkeys.”
Abe knew that his mother would be glad to have the turkey. His father often shot different kinds of wild game to help out on the food supply. This was the first time that Abe had ever killed anything.
He had to make himself pick up the turkey. Its wings flapped a few times against his shoulder. Then they were still.
Abe walked along behind the other boys. They saw several flocks of turkeys. Before long Abe’s friends had shot two turkeys apiece. Abe did not fire another shot.
When the boys urged him to shoot, he just shook his head. “I can’t do it,” he said. “This is the first time I ever killed anything with a gun. I hope that it is the last time, too.”
After that when other boys went into the woods with their guns, Abe stayed home. He knew that sometimes it was necessary to kill wild game for food, but he couldn’t do it. If the family needed wild game, someone else would have to shoot it.
AN ACCIDENT
Another time Abe was going into the woods to chop down a tree.
“May I go with you, Abe?” Matilda called from the doorway.
Mrs. Lincoln put her hand on Matilda’s shoulder before Abe could answer. “Not today, Matilda,” she said. “I need you to help me. Besides, I don’t want you bothering Abe while he is working with a sharp ax.”
Abe liked to be out in the woods. He liked to chop down trees. He sang at the top of his voice as he lifted the ax over his head. He worked and worked.
Abe was singing so loudly that he didn’t hear Matilda come up behind him. Now, Matilda knew just what she was going to do. She had watched her brothers play.
She crept up softly behind Abe. He had just raised his ax high over his head. Quick as a cat, Matilda leaped on Abe’s back. She put one hand on each of his shoulders. Her knees were in the middle of Abe’s back.
Abe whirled around, still holding the ax. Matilda tumbled to the ground. As she fell, her knee hit the sharp blade of the ax!
Abe’s face grew pale when he saw the blood running down Matilda’s leg. He dropped the ax and bent over his sister.
“Oh, Matilda, I’ve cut your knee!” he said.
Matilda was quite a big girl, but she couldn’t keep from crying now. “Oh, Abe, it hurts! It hurts!” she sobbed.
Abe could see that the cut was fairly deep. “We should bandage your knee and get you home,” he said.
His hands were shaking as he tore a strip off his shirt and bound up the knee. He felt very sorry for Matilda.
“I know it hurts awfully,” he said. “But I’m sure it will be all right.”
Matilda had stopped crying now. “Don’t look so worried, Abe. It isn’t your fault that I got hurt. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have come to the woods and surprised you.”
Abe tried to smile. “Well, I can’t help being worried. I hate to see anyone get hurt. I’ll carry you home now.”
Abe walked carefully. He didn’t want the cut on Matilda’s knee to start bleeding again. As he walked, he began to worry about his mother. If she saw him carrying Matilda, she would be frightened, he knew.
“Matilda,” said Abe when they came in sight of the cabin, “do you think you could walk the rest of the way? I know your knee hurts, but I don’t want to scare Mother.”
“Oh, yes,” said Matilda. “I’m sure I can walk now. I should have thought about frightening Mother, myself. You always think about others, Abe. I wish I could be like that.”
“Well, I’m older than you are,” said Abe, as he put Matilda on her feet.
Matilda leaned on Abe, and together they went toward the cabin. When Mrs. Lincoln saw them coming, she rushed to meet them. She was half angry and half worried. Matilda had disobeyed her, and she didn’t like that. At the same time she was worried when she saw that Abe was coming home with Matilda.
“Matilda,” she said, “I told you not to go to the woods—”
“Please don’t scold her, Mother,” said Abe. “She just didn’t think. She has had an accident, and I think perhaps she has already been punished enough.”
When Mrs. Lincoln saw the cut on Matilda’s knee, she agreed with Abe. She didn’t scold Matilda, but gently took care of the gash.
“You are lucky to have a brother like Abe,” she said to Matilda. “He always understands how the other person feels.”
A SPELLING MATCH
“ARE YOU GOING to the spelling match at the schoolhouse tonight, Abe?”
“Of course I’m going, Dennis. I’ll be ready in two minutes.”
“Oh, yes,” said Dennis, but his voice sounded queer. Abe thought Dennis looked queer, too.
“Why did you ask me that, Dennis? You know I always go to spelling matches.”
“There’s no use for you to go tonight, Abe. They won’t let you spell.”
“Won’t let me spell! Who won’t let me spell?”
“The schoolmaster. I saw him this morning. He told me to tell you not to come.”
“I haven’t missed a word all winter,” said Abe. “The side I’m on always wins.”
“That is just what he said, Abe. He said it wasn’t a match when you came—the other side didn’t need to try.”
That pleased Abe. “I know the spelling book forward and backward,” he said.
“You’re the best speller on Pigeon Creek,” said Dennis. “Everyone knows that.”
That pleased Abe, too. “Well,” he said, “I’ll go, but I’ll just sit and listen.”
“I guess that will be all right,” said Dennis.
The two boys went through the woods to the schoolhouse. They found it full of people—mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, girls, and boys. Everyone was talking and laughing. The people loved these spelling matches, and they would come from miles around. They would come through dark forests. They would cross deep creeks. Neither rain nor snow could keep them at home. They came early, too, so they could
visit with one another.
Abe and Dennis were late. They were hanging up their hats when the schoolmaster rang a bell. At once there was silence.
The schoolmaster stood on a low platform. “Jenny Springer!” he called.
Jenny stood up.
“Jenny,” he said, “you have the first choice tonight. Begin.”
“Abe Lincoln!” called out Jenny.
“No,” said the schoolmaster. “Abe can’t spell tonight. It isn’t a match when he spells. His side is sure to win. Please choose someone else, Jenny.”
Now Jenny was a good girl, but she couldn’t understand many things. She didn’t know whether the world was round or flat. She thought there was a man in the moon. She thought a pound of sugar weighed more than a pound of feathers. So of course Jenny couldn’t understand why Abe shouldn’t spell.
“I want Abe!” she cried. “I won’t choose anyone else!”
“No! No!” cried some voices.
“Abe! Abe!” cried other voices.
The schoolmaster rang his bell. Again there was silence.
Abe stood up. “Jenny,” he said, “you must choose someone else. I shall obey the schoolmaster.”
Jenny knew that Abe always obeyed the schoolmaster, so she chose someone else.
“Thank you, Abe,” whispered the master. “Now sit down and enjoy yourself.”
And Abe did enjoy himself. He knew how to spell every word that was missed. When Dennis tried to spell afraid, Abe couldn’t keep from laughing.
“A-f-e-a-r-e-d,” spelled Dennis.
“No,” said the master, “the word is afraid.”
“There isn’t any such word in my speller,” said Dennis. “It’s afeared.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Abe.
After the match was over, the two boys started home. There was no moon and it was very dark in the woods.
“Dennis,” said Abe, “are you afeared?”
“No,” said Dennis, “I’m not even afraid.”
They both laughed and went through the dark woods whistling.
JOHNNY APPLESEED
IT WAS LATE in the afternoon when Matilda Johnston came out of the Lincoln cabin and started toward the cornfield. Just then Abe and John Johnston came out of the woods, and Matilda ran to meet them.
“I came after you,” she said. “I thought you were here. I knew you’d like to know.”
“Know what?” asked John and Abe.
“Somebody’s come,” said Matilda, “and he’s going to stay for supper. Guess who?”
“The preacher,” Abe guessed.
“No,” said Matilda.
“The schoolmaster,” John guessed.
“No,” said Matilda.
“I can’t guess,” said John.
“Neither can I,” said Abe.
“It’s Johnny Appleseed!” said Matilda.
“Johnny Appleseed!” said Abe. “I’ve always wanted to see him.”
“So have I,” said John. “I’ve heard that he’s a queer person.”
“He looks mighty strange to me,” said Matilda. “He has his appleseeds.”
They went into the cabin. There sat the queerest looking man they had seen in all their lives.
He wore a coffee sack with holes cut in it for his arms. He was barefooted. His hair was long—to his shoulders. At his feet were two large bags filled with appleseeds.
He smiled at the boys and asked them if they could lift his bags. John tried, but he couldn’t lift either one. Then Abe tried and lifted both.
The stranger was surprised. “Well! Well!” he said. “I didn’t think anybody else could lift my bags.”
“They are heavy,” said Abe. “Have you carried them far?”
“Five hundred miles,” Johnny said.
“Just think of that!” said Mrs. Lincoln. “Five hundred miles through the forest with two heavy bags on your back.”
“And then you give your seeds away,” said Mr. Lincoln.
“Yes, I give them away,” said Johnny. “I want to help people, and this is my way of doing it. There are only a few apple trees in this part of the country.”
“And they grew from the seeds you brought here,” said Mrs. Lincoln.
“I’d like to see an apple orchard near every cabin,” Johnny answered. “It would make the settlers love their homes better. Besides, apple trees will bring more settlers here.”
“That’s true,” said Mr. Lincoln.
“What do you do when you are out of seeds?” Abe asked.
“I go back for more,” said Johnny, “to the cider mills across the mountain.”
“To Pennsylvania?” John asked.
“That’s another five hundred miles,” said Abe.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the strange man. “I’m always coming and going.”
“Aren’t you afraid of Indians?” asked Matilda.
“They have never harmed me.”
“But there are snakes in the forest,” said Matilda. “Aren’t you afraid of them?”
The man looked at his bare feet. “They are tough as leather,” he said. “I could stick a pin in them and never feel it. I could step on thorns and never know it.”
“But there are the cold and the heat and the storms,” said Mr. Lincoln.
“I fear nothing,” said Johnny, “nothing in the world. I trust the Lord to protect me.”
Supper was now ready, and they all sat down at the long table. The visitor thanked the Lord for the food they were about to eat.
The meat was passed to him first, but he refused it. “The children must be helped first,” he said.
“There is plenty for them,” said Mrs. Lincoln. “They can wait a minute.”
“I must see the food on their plates,” said Johnny. “I never eat until I know what the children have.”
Mr. Lincoln helped the children. Then the visitor took the meat and ate.
After supper Mr. Lincoln said he wanted to buy some appleseeds.
“You may have all the seeds you want, but not one cent will you pay,” said Johnny.
“I would rather pay,” said Mr. Lincoln.
“You have already paid me,” said Johnny. “You have given me a good supper.” Then he arose to go.
“You must stay all night,” said Mrs. Lincoln.
“No, no!” cried Johnny. “I must be on my way, thank you.”
“Where will you sleep?” Mr. Lincoln asked.
“On the ground,” said the strange man, “and thank the Lord that I can.”
He gave Mr. Lincoln some appleseeds. He thanked Mrs. Lincoln for the good supper. Then he told them all good-bye and went out into the dark forest, alone and unafraid.
“I wish I could do something for people, too,” said Abe.
“Maybe you will someday, Abe,” said his mother.
HOW NEIGHBORS HELPED
A NEW SETTLER had come to Pigeon Creek with his family—his wife and two young children. They camped out near the Lincolns’.
The stranger began at once to make a clearing. After that he got logs ready for his cabin. But he couldn’t lift them and put them in place. No one man could do that.
This stranger had no money to pay helpers. How then could he ever hope to have a cabin?
There was only one way; he hoped the old settlers would help him.
And he did not hope in vain. The word was passed along that the newcomer was ready.
The news went up and down the creek. The miller told his customers. They told their neighbors, and they, in turn, told their neighbors. It wasn’t long until everyone had heard the news.
It was good news, too. It gave the settlers a chance to visit with one another all day, for they always took their dinners.
At last the day came. Large baskets were packed with food. Everyone put on clean clothing. The men and boys wore their best coonskin caps and moccasins. The women and girls wore their best dresses and sunbonnets.
From far and near they came—some riding horseback, some in big
wagons, some, like the Lincolns, walking.
Then the cabin was begun. The men worked hard, and the boys helped when they could. They couldn’t do much because they couldn’t move the logs. Abe was the only boy who could work along with the men.
He helped the preacher with a log. Then he helped the schoolmaster and the miller. When he saw little Mr. Bigger puffing and panting, he helped him. When he saw big Mr. Little panting and puffing, he helped him. Abe was here, there, and everywhere.
The women had been busy with the dinner. It was spread on long red tablecloths on the ground, and everyone sat on the ground to eat.
There were roast venison, turkey, and duck. There were pigeonpie and stewed pumpkin and honey. There were wild strawberries and apples from the seeds Johnny Appleseed had planted. There was maple sugar in gourds, and there were piles and piles of corncakes.
Everyone ate and ate, and everyone talked and talked.
The preacher told a joke which made everyone laugh. The schoolmaster told a joke, too, and everyone laughed again. Mr. Lincoln told an Indian story. Abe told two funny stories which he made up himself.
After dinner the men and boys rested for a while. Then the work began again. Log after log was lifted and put in place. Again Abe was here, there, and everywhere.
Before sunset the cabin was finished. The new settler took his furniture from his big wagon and put it in the new cabin.
He thanked the old settlers again and again. His wife thanked them, and they both thanked the women for the good dinner.
Then everyone started home—some on horseback, some in big wagons, some walking through the woods.
Dennis Hanks; Sarah and Abe Lincoln; John, Matilda, and Sarah Johnston walked with other girls and boys—all talking, laughing, singing.
Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln left them and went ahead.
“I’m proud of the way Abe worked,” said Mr. Lincoln. “Everyone wanted his help.”
“Everyone likes Abe,” said Mrs. Lincoln.
“They like him because he is so strong,” said Mr. Lincoln.
“That isn’t the only reason, Thomas. They like Abe, also, because he is smart and good-natured and polite. He will always have friends and good friends, too.”
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