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+Project Gutenberg's In The Boyhood of Lincoln, by Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: In The Boyhood of Lincoln
+       A Tale of the Tunker Schoolmaster and the Times of Black Hawk
+
+Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2008 [EBook #25672]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Adrian Mastronardi, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE RESCUE.]
+
+
+
+
+IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
+
+A Tale of the Tunker Schoolmaster
+and the Times of Black Hawk
+
+BY
+
+HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH
+
+AUTHOR OF THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA
+
+Let us have faith that right makes might, and
+in that faith as to the end dare to do our duty.
+                     PRESIDENT LINCOLN.
+
+_ILLUSTRATED_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+NINTH EDITION
+
+NEW YORK
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
+1898
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1892,
+BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Abraham Lincoln has become the typical character of American
+institutions, and it is the purpose of this book, which is a true
+picture in a framework of fiction, to show how that character, which so
+commanded the hearts and the confidence of men, was formed. He who in
+youth unselfishly seeks the good of others, without fear or favor, may
+be ridiculed, but he makes for himself a character fit to govern others,
+and one that the people will one day need and honor. The secret of
+Abraham Lincoln's success was the "faith that right makes might." This
+principle the book seeks by abundant story-telling to illustrate and
+make clear.
+
+In this volume, as in the "Log School-House on the Columbia," the
+adventures of a pioneer school-master are made to represent the early
+history of a newly settled country. The "Log School-House on the
+Columbia" gave a view of the early history of Oregon and Washington.
+This volume collects many of the Indian romances and cabin tales of the
+early settlers of Illinois, and pictures the hardships and manly
+struggles of one who by force of early character made himself the
+greatest of representative Americans.
+
+The character of the Dunkard, or Tunker, as a wandering school-master,
+may be new to many readers. Such missionaries of the forests and
+prairies have now for the most part disappeared, but they did a useful
+work among the pioneer settlements on the Ohio and Illinois Rivers. In
+this case we present him as a disciple of Pestalozzi and a friend of
+Froebel, and as one who brings the German methods of story-telling into
+his work.
+
+"Was there ever so good an Indian as Umatilla?" asks an accomplished
+reviewer of the "Log School-House on the Columbia." The chief whose
+heroic death in the grave of his son is recorded in that volume did not
+receive the full measure of credit for his devotion, for he was really
+buried _alive_ in the grave of his boy. A like question may be asked in
+regard to the father of Waubeno in this volume. We give the story very
+much as Black Hawk himself related it. In Drake's History of the Indians
+we find it related in the following manner:
+
+"It is related by Black Hawk, in his Life, that some time before the War
+of 1812 one of the Indians had killed a Frenchman at Prairie des Chiens.
+'The British soon after took him prisoner, and said they would shoot him
+next day. His family were encamped a short distance below the mouth of
+the Ouisconsin. He begged permission to go and see them that night, as
+he was _to die the next day_. They permitted him to go, after promising
+to return the next morning by sunrise. He visited his family, which
+consisted of a wife and six children. I can not describe their meeting
+and parting to be understood by the whites, as it appears that their
+feelings are acted upon by certain rules laid down by their
+_preachers_!--while ours are governed only by the monitor within us. He
+parted from his wife and children, hurried through the prairie to the
+fort, and arrived in time. The soldiers were ready, and immediately
+_marched out and shot him down_!' If this were not cold-blooded,
+deliberate murder on the part of the whites I have no conception of what
+constitutes that crime. What were the circumstances of the murder we are
+not informed; but whatever they may have been, they can not excuse a
+still greater barbarity."
+
+It belongs, like the story of so-called Umatilla in the "Log
+School-House on the Columbia," to a series of great legends of Indian
+character which the poet's pen and the artist's brush would do well to
+perpetuate. The examples of Indians who have valued honor more than life
+are many, and it is a pleasing duty to picture such scenes of native
+worth, as true to the spirit of the past.
+
+We have in this volume, as in the former book, freely mingled history,
+tradition, and fiction, but we believe that we have in no case been
+untrue to the fact and spirit of the times we picture, and we have
+employed fiction chiefly as a framework to bring what is real more
+vividly into view. We have employed the interpretive imagination merely
+for narrative purposes. Nearly all that has distinctive worth in the
+volume is substantially true to history, tradition, and the general
+spirit of old times in the Illinois, the Sangamon, and the Chicago; to
+the character of the "jolly old pedagogue long ago"; and to that
+marvelous man who accepted in youth the lesson of lessons, that "right
+makes might."
+
+28 WORCHESTER STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                         PAGE
+
+I.--INTRODUCED                                                     1
+
+II.--THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES                              17
+
+III.--THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY-TELLERS       33
+
+IV.--A BOY WITH A HEART                                           55
+
+V.--JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.--HER QUEER STORIES             62
+
+VI.--JASPER GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO BLACK HAWK.--AUNT
+INDIANA'S WIG                                                     75
+
+VII.--THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL                        87
+
+VIII.--THE PARABLE PREACHES IN THE WILDERNESS                    100
+
+IX.--AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES                                   108
+
+X.--THE INDIAN RUNNER                                            115
+
+XI.--THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO                                      122
+
+XII.--THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO                                133
+
+XIII.--LAFAYETTE AT KASKASKIA.--THE STATELY MINUET               140
+
+XIV.--WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN                                  156
+
+XV.--THE DEBATING SCHOOL                                         166
+
+XVI.--THE SCHOOL THAT MADE LINCOLN PRESIDENT                     177
+
+XVII.--THOMAS LINCOLN MOVES                                      184
+
+XVIII.--MAIN-POGUE                                               196
+
+XIX.--THE FOREST COLLEGE                                         202
+
+XX.--MAKING LINCOLN A "SON OF MALTA"                             214
+
+XXI.--PRAIRIE ISLAND                                             218
+
+XXII.--THE INDIAN PLOT                                           229
+
+XXIII.--FOR LINCOLN'S SAKE                                       236
+
+XXIV.--"OUR LINCOLN IS THE MAN"                                  251
+
+XXV.--AT THE LAST                                                265
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                               FACING PAGE
+
+The rescue                                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+The Tunker school-master's class in manners                        14
+
+Lines written by Lincoln on the leaf of his school-book            22
+
+Story-telling at the smithy                                        35
+
+The home of Abraham Lincoln when in his tenth year                 55
+
+Aunt Olive's wedding                                               68
+
+Abraham as a peace-maker                                           90
+
+Black Hawk tells the story of Waubeno                             118
+
+A queer place to write poetry                                     160
+
+Sarah Bush Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln's step-mother                 217
+
+The approach of the mysterious Indian                             240
+
+The Lincoln family record                                         250
+
+Abraham Lincoln, the man                                          262
+
+
+
+
+IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+INTRODUCED.
+
+
+"Boy, are there any schools in these parts?"
+
+"Crawford's."
+
+"And who, my boy, is Crawford?"
+
+"The schoolmaster, don't yer know? He's great on thrashing--on
+thrashing--and--and he knows everything. Everybody in these parts has
+heard of Crawford. He's great."
+
+"That is all very extraordinary. 'Great on thrashing, and knows
+everything.' Very extraordinary! Do you raise much wheat in these
+parts?"
+
+"He don't thrash wheat, mister. Old Dennis and young Dennis do that with
+their thrashing-flails."
+
+"But what does he thrash, my boy--what does he thrash?"
+
+"He just thrashes boys, don't you know."
+
+"Extraordinary--very extraordinary. He thrashes boys."
+
+"And teaches 'em their manners. He teaches manners, Crawford does.
+Didn't you never hear of Crawford? You must be a stranger in these
+parts."
+
+"Yes, I am a stranger in Indiana. I have been following the timber
+along the creek, and looking out on the prairie islands. This is a
+beautiful country. Nature has covered it with grasses and flowers, and
+the bees will swarm here some day; I see them now; the air is all bright
+with them, my boy."
+
+"I don't see any bees; it isn't the time of year for 'em. Do you
+cobble?"
+
+"You don't quite understand me. I was speaking spiritually. Yes, I
+cobble to pay my way. Yes, my boy."
+
+"Do you preach?"
+
+"Yes, and teach the higher branches--like Crawford. He teaches the
+higher branches, does he not?"
+
+"Don't make any odds where he gets 'em. I didn't know that he used the
+higher branches. He just cuts a stick anywhere, and goes at 'em, he
+does."
+
+"You do not comprehend me, my boy. I teach the higher branches in new
+schools--Latin and singing. I do not use the higher branches of the
+trees."
+
+"Latin! Then you must be a _wizard_."
+
+"No, no, my boy. I am one of the Brethren--called. My new name is
+Jasper. I chose that name because I needed polishing. Do you see? Well,
+the Lord is doing his work, polishing me, and I shall shine by and by.
+'They that turn many to righteousness shall shine like the stars of
+heaven.' They call me the Parable."
+
+"Then you be a Tunker?"
+
+"I am one of the wandering Brethren that they call 'Tunkers.'"
+
+"You preach for nothin'? They do."
+
+"Yes, my boy; the Word is free."
+
+"Then who pays you?"
+
+"My soul."
+
+"And you teach for nothin', too, do ye?"
+
+"Yes, my boy. Knowledge is free."
+
+"Then who pays you?"
+
+"It all comes back to me. He that teaches is taught."
+
+"You don't cobble for nothin', do ye?"
+
+"Yes--I cobble to pay my way. I am a wayfaring man, wandering to and fro
+in the wilderness of the world."
+
+"You cobble to pay yourself for teachin' and preachin'! Why don't you
+make _them_ pay you? I shouldn't think that you would want to preach and
+teach and cobble all for nothin', and travel, and travel, and sleep
+anywhere. Father will be proper glad to see you--and mother; we are glad
+to see near upon anybody. I suppose that you will hold forth down to
+Crawford's; in the log meetin'-'ouse, or in the school-'ouse, may be, or
+under the great trees over Nancy Lincoln's grave. Elkins he preached
+there, and the circuit-rider."
+
+"If I follow the timber, I will come to Crawford's, my boy?"
+
+"Yes, mister. You'll come to the school-'ouse, and the meetin'-'ouse.
+The school-'ouse has a low-down roof and a big chimney. Crawford will be
+right glad to see you, won't he now? They are great on spellin' down
+there--have spellin'-matches, and all the people come from far and near
+to hear 'em spell--hundreds of 'em. Link--he's the head speller--he
+could spell down anybody. It is the greatest school in all these here
+new parts. You will have a right good time down there; they'll treat ye
+right well."
+
+"Good, my boy; you speak kindly. I shall have a good time, if the people
+have ears."
+
+"Ears! They've all got ears--just like other folks. You didn't think
+that they didn't have any ears, did ye?"
+
+"I mean ears for the truth. I must travel on. I am glad that I met you,
+my lad. Tell your father and mother that old Jasper the Parable has gone
+by, and that he has a message for them in his heart. God bless you, my
+boy--God bless you! You are a little rude in your speech, but you mean
+well."
+
+The man went on, following the trail along the great trees of Pigeon
+Creek, and the boy stood looking after him. The water rippled under the
+trees, and afar lay the open prairie, like a great sun sea. The air was
+cool, but the light of spring was in it, and the blue-birds fluted
+blithely among the budding trees.
+
+As he passed along amid these new scenes, a singular figure appeared in
+the way. It was a woman in a linsey-woolsey dress, corn sun-bonnet, and
+a huge cane. She looked at the Tunker suspiciously, yet seemed to retard
+her steps that he might overtake her.
+
+"My good woman," said the latter, coming up to her, "I am not sure of my
+way."
+
+"Well, I am."
+
+"I wish to go to the Pigeon Creek--settlement--"
+
+"Then you ought to have kept the way when you had it."
+
+"But, my good woman, I am a stranger in these parts. A boy has directed
+me, but I feel uncertain. What do you do when you lose your way?"
+
+"I don't lose it."
+
+"But if you were--"
+
+"I'd just turn to the right, and keep right straight ahead till I found
+it."
+
+"True, true; but this is a new country to me. I am one of the Brethren."
+
+"Ye be, be ye? I thought you were one of them land agents. One of the
+Brethren. I'm proper glad. Who were you lookin' for?"
+
+"Crawford's school."
+
+"The college? Am you're goin' there? I go over there sometimes to see
+him wallop the boys. We must all have discipline in life, you know, and
+it is best to begin with the young. Crawford does. They say that
+Crawford teaches clear to the rule of three, whatever that may be. One
+added to one is more than one, according to the Scriptur'; now isn't it?
+One added to one is almost three. Is that what they call high
+mathematics? I never got further than the multiplication-table, though I
+am a friend to education. My name is Olive Eastman. What's yourn?"
+
+"Jasper."
+
+"You don't? One of the old patriarchs, like. Well, I live this way--you
+go _that_. 'Tain't more'n half a mile to Crawford's--close to the
+meetin'-'ouse. Mebby you'll preach there, and I'll hear ye. Glad I met
+ye now, and to see who you be. They call me Aunt Olive sometimes, and
+sometimes Aunt Indiana. I settled Pigeon Creek, or husband and I did. He
+was kind o' weakly; he's gone now, and I live all alone. I'd be glad to
+have you come over and preach at the 'ouse, though I might not believe a
+word on't. I'm a Methody; most people are Baptist down here, like the
+Linkuns, but we is all ready to listen to a Tunker. People are only
+responsible for what they know; and there are some good people among the
+Tunkers, I've hern tell. Now don't go off into some by-path into the
+woods. Tom Lincoln he see a bear there the other day, but he wouldn't
+'a' shot it if it had been an elephant with tusks of ivory and gold.
+Some folks haven't no calculation. The Lincolns hain't. Good-by."
+
+The Tunker was a middle-aged man of probably forty-five or more years.
+He had a benevolent face, large, sympathetic eyes, and a patriarchal
+beard. His garments had hooks instead of buttons. He carried a leather
+bag in which were a Bible and a hymn-book, some German works of
+Zinzendorf, and his cobbling-tools. We can not wonder that the boy
+stared after him. He would have looked oddly anywhere.
+
+My reader may not know who a Tunker was, as our wandering schoolmaster
+was called. A Tunker, or Dunker, was one of a sect of German Baptists or
+Quakers, who were formerly very numerous in Pennsylvania and Ohio. The
+order numbered at one time some thirty thousand souls. They called
+themselves Brethren, but were commonly known as "Tunkards," or
+"Dunkards," from a German word meaning to _dip_. At their baptisms they
+dip the body of a convert three times; and so in their own land they
+received the name of Tunkers, or _dippers_, and this name followed them
+into Holland and to America. A large number of the Brethren settled in
+Germantown, Pa. Thence they wandered into Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois,
+preaching and teaching and doing useful work. Like the Quakers, they
+have now nearly disappeared.
+
+Their doctrines were peculiar, but their lives were unselfish and pure,
+and their influence blameless. They believed in being led by the inner
+light; that the soul was a seat of divine and spiritual authority, and
+that the Spirit came to them as a direct revelation. They did not eat
+meat or drink wine. They washed each other's feet after their religious
+services, wore their beards long, and gave themselves new names that
+they might not be tempted by any worldly ambitions or rivalries. They
+thought it wrong to take oaths, to hold slaves, or to treat the Indians
+differently from other men. They would receive no payment for preaching,
+but held that it was the duty of all men to live by what they earned by
+their own labor. They traveled wherever they felt moved to go by the
+inward monitor. They were a peculiar people, but the prairie States owe
+much that was good to their influence. The new settlers were usually
+glad to see the old Tunker when he appeared among them, and to receive
+his message, and women and children felt the loss of this benevolent
+sympathy when he went away. He established no church, yet all people
+believed in his sincerity, and most people listened to him with respect
+and reverence. The sect closely resembled the old Jewish order of the
+Essenes, except that they did not wear the garment of white, but loose
+garments without buttons.
+
+The scene of the Tunker's journey was in Spencer County, Indiana, near
+the present town of Gentryville. This county was rapidly being occupied
+by immigrants, and it was to this new people that Jasper the Parable
+believed himself to be guided by the monitor within.
+
+Early in the afternoon he passed several clearings and cabins, where he
+stopped to receive directions to the school-house and meeting-house.
+
+The country was one vast wilderness. For the most part it was covered
+with gigantic trees, though here and there a rich prairie opened out of
+the timber. There were oaks gray with centuries, and elms jacketed with
+moss, in whose high boughs the orioles in summer builded and sang, and
+under which the bluebells grew. There were black-walnut forests in
+places, with timber almost as hard as horn. The woods in many places
+were open, like colonnades, and carpeted with green moss. There were no
+restrictions of law here, or very few. One might pitch his tent
+anywhere, and live where he pleased. The land, as a rule, was common.
+
+Jasper came at last to a clearing with a rude cabin, near which was a
+three-faced camp, as a house of poles with one open side was called.
+Spencer County was near the Kentucky border, and the climate was so warm
+that a family could live there in a house of poles in comfort for most
+of the year.
+
+As Jasper the Parable came up to the log-house, which had neither hinged
+doors nor glass windows, a large, rough, good-humored-looking man came
+out to the gate to meet him, and stood there leaning upon a low
+gate-post.
+
+"Howdy, stranger?" said the hardy pioneer. "What brings you to these
+parts--lookin' fer a place to settle down at?"
+
+"No, my good friend--I'm obliged to you for speaking so kindly to a
+wayfarer--peace be with you--I am looking for the school-house. Can you
+direct me there?"
+
+"I reckon. Then you be going to see the school? Good for ye. A great
+school that Crawford keeps. I've got a boy and a girl in that there
+school myself. The boy, if I do say it now, is the smartest fellow in
+all the country round--and the laziest. Smart at the top, but it don't
+go down. Runs all to larnin'. Just reads and studies about all the time,
+speaks pieces, and preaches on stumps, and makes poetry, and things. I
+don't know what will ever become of him. He's a queer one. My name is
+Linkem" (Lincoln)--"Thomas Linkem. What's yourn?"
+
+"They call me Jasper the Parable--that is my new name. I'm one of the
+Brethren. No offense, I hope--just one of the Brethren."
+
+"Oh, you be--a Tunker. Well, we'll all be proper glad to see you down
+here. I come from Kentuck. Where did you come from?"
+
+"From Pennsylvania, here. I was born in Germany."
+
+"Sho, you did? From Pennsylvany! And how far are you going?"
+
+"I'm going to meet Black Hawk. My good friend, I stop and preach and
+teach and cobble along the way."
+
+"What! Black Hawk, the chief? Is it him you're goin' to see? You're an
+Indian agent, perhaps, travelin' for the State or the fur-traders?"
+
+"No, I am not a trader of any kind. I am going to meet Black Hawk at
+Rock River. He has promised me a young Indian guide, who will show me
+all these paths and act as an interpreter, and gain for me a passage
+among all the Indian tribes. I have met Black Hawk before."
+
+"You've been to Illinois, have ye? Glad to hear ye say so. What kind of
+a kentry is that, now? I've sometimes thought of going there myself. It
+ain't over-healthy here. Say, stranger, come back and stop with us after
+you've been to the school. I haven't any great accommodations, as you
+see, but I will do the best I can for you, and it will make my wife and
+Abe and the gal proper glad to have a talk with a preacher. Ye will,
+won't ye, now? Say yes."
+
+"Yes, yes, if it is so ordered, friend. Thank you, yes. I feel moved to
+say that I will come back. You are very good, my friend."
+
+"Yes, yes, come back and see us all. I won't detain ye any longer now.
+You see that there openin'? Well, you just follow that path as the
+crow flies, and you'll come to the school-'ouse. Good-day,
+stranger--good-day."
+
+It was early spring, a season always beautiful in southern Indiana. The
+buds were swelling; the woodpeckers were tapping the old trees, and the
+migrating birds were returning to their old homes in the tree-tops.
+Jasper went along singing, for his heart was happy, and he felt the
+cheerful influence of the vernal air. The birds to him were prophets and
+choirs, and the murmur of the south winds in the trees was a sermon. A
+right and receptive spirit sees good in everything, and so Jasper sang
+as he walked along the footpath.
+
+The school-house came into view. It was built of round logs, and was
+scarcely higher than a tall man's head. The chimney was large, and was
+constructed of poles and clay, and the floor and furniture were made of
+puncheons, as split logs were called. The windows consisted of rough
+slats and oiled paper. The door was open, and Jasper came up and stood
+before it. How strange the new country all seemed to him!
+
+The schoolmaster came to the door. He affected gentlemanly and almost
+courtly manners, and bowed low.
+
+"Is this Mr. Crawford, may I ask?" said Jasper.
+
+"Andrew Crawford. And whom have I the honor of meeting?"
+
+"My new name is Jasper. I am one of the Brethren. They call me the
+Parable. I am on my way to Rock Island, Illinois, to meet Black Hawk,
+the chief, who has promised to assist me with a guide and interpreter
+for my missionary journeys among the new settlements and the tribes. I
+have come, may it please you, to visit the school. I am a teacher
+myself."
+
+"You do us great honor, and I assure you that you are very welcome--very
+welcome. Come in."
+
+The scholars stared, and presented a very strange appearance. The boys
+were dressed in buckskin breeches and linsey-woolsey shirts, and the
+girls in homespun gowns of most economical patterns. The furniture
+seemed all pegs and puncheons. The one cheerful object in the room was
+the enormous fireplace. The pupils delighted to keep this fed with fuel
+in the chilly winter days, and the very ashes had cheerful suggestions.
+It was all ashes now, for the sun was high, and the spring falls warm
+and early in the forests of southern Indiana.
+
+It was past mid afternoon, and the slanting sun was glimmering in the
+tops of the gigantic forest-trees seen from the open door.
+
+"We have nearly completed the exercises of the day," said Mr. Crawford.
+"I have yet to hear the spelling-class, and to conduct the exercises in
+manners. I teach manners. Shall I go on in the usual way?"
+
+"Yes, yes, may it please you--yes, in the usual way--in the usual way.
+You are very kind."
+
+"You do me great honor.--The class in spelling," said Mr. Crawford,
+turning to the school. Five boys and girls stood up, and came to an open
+space in front of the desk. The recitation of this class was something
+most odd and amusing to Jasper, and so it would seem to a teacher of
+to-day.
+
+"_Incompatibility_" said Mr. Crawford. "You may make your manners and
+spell _incompatibility_, Sarah."
+
+A tall girl with a high forehead and very short dress gave a modest and
+abashed glance at the wandering visitor, blushed, courtesied very low,
+and thus began the rhythmic exercise of spelling the word in the
+old-time way:
+
+"I-n, in; there's your in. C-o-m, com, incom; there's your incom; incom.
+P-a-t, pat, compat, incompat; there's your incompat; incompat. I-, pati,
+compati, incompati; there's your incompati; incompati. B-i-l, bil; ibil,
+patibil, compatibil, incompatibil; there's your incompatibil;
+incompatibil. I-, bili, patibili, compatibili, incompatibili; there's
+your incompatibili; incompatibili. T-y, ty, ity, bility, ibility,
+patibility, compatibility, incompatibility; there's your
+incompatibility; _incompatibility_."
+
+The girl seemed dazed after this mazy effort. Mr. Crawford bowed, and
+Jasper the Parable looked serene, and remarked, encouragingly:
+
+"Extraordinary! I never heard a word spelled in that way. This is an
+age of wonders. One meets with strange things everywhere. I should think
+that that girl would make a teacher one day; and the new country will
+soon need teachers. The girl did well."
+
+"You do me great honor," said Mr. Crawford, bowing like a courtier. "I
+appreciate it, I assure you; I appreciate it, and thank you. I have
+aimed to make my school the best in the country. Your commendation
+encourages me to hope that I have not failed."
+
+But these polite and generous compliments were exchanged a little too
+soon. The next word that Mr. Crawford gave out from the "Speller" was
+_obliquity_.
+
+"Jason, make your manners and spell _obliquity_. Take your hands out of
+your pockets; that isn't manners. Take your hands out of your pockets
+and spell _obliquity_."
+
+Jason was a tall lad, in a jean blouse and leather breeches. His hair
+was tangled and his ankles were bare. He seemed to have a loss of
+confidence, but he bobbed his head for manners, and began to spell in a
+very loud voice, that had in it almost the sharpness of defiance.
+
+"O-b, ob; there's your ob; ob." He made a leer. "L-i-k, lik, oblik;
+there's your oblik--"
+
+"No," said Mr. Crawford, with a look of vexation and disappointment.
+"Try again."
+
+Jason took a higher key of voice.
+
+"Wall, O-b, ob; there's your ob; ain't it? L-i-c-k, and there's your
+lick--"
+
+"Take your seat!" thundered Mr. Crawford. "I'll give you a _lick_ after
+school. Think of bringing obliquity upon the school in the presence of
+a teacher from the Old World! Next!"
+
+But the next pupil became lost in the mazes of the improved method of
+spelling, and the class brought dishonor upon the really conscientious
+and ambitious teacher.
+
+The exercise in manners partly redeemed the disaster.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, stand up."
+
+A tall boy arose, and his head almost touched the ceiling. He was
+dressed in a linsey-woolsey frock, with buckskin breeches which were
+much too short for him. His ankles were exposed, and his feet were
+poorly covered. His face was dark and serious. He did not look like one
+whom an unseen Power had chosen to control one day the destiny of
+nations, to call a million men to arms, and to emancipate a race.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, you may go out, and come in and be introduced."
+
+It required but a few steps to take the young giant out of the door. He
+presently returned, knocking.
+
+"James Sparrow, you may go to the door," said Mr. Crawford.
+
+The boy arose, went to the door, and bowed very properly.
+
+"Good-afternoon, Mr. Lincoln. I am glad to see you. Come in. If it
+please you, I will present you to my friends."
+
+Abraham entered, as in response to this courtly parrot-talk.
+
+"Mr. Crawford, may I have the honor of presenting to you my friend
+Abraham Lincoln?--Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Crawford."
+
+[Illustration: THE TUNKER SCHOOLMASTER'S CLASS IN MANNERS.]
+
+Mr. Crawford bowed slowly and condescendingly. Abraham was then
+introduced to each of the members of the school, and the exercise was a
+very creditable one, under the untoward circumstances. And this shall be
+our own introduction to one of the heroes of our story, and, following
+this odd introduction, we will here make our readers somewhat better
+acquainted with Jasper the Parable.
+
+He was born in Thuringia, not far from the Baths of Liebenstein. His
+father was a German, but his mother was of English descent, and he had
+visited England with her in his youth, and so spoke the English language
+naturally and perfectly. He had become an advocate of the plans of
+Pestalozzi, the father of common-school education, in his early life.
+One of the most intimate friends of his youth was Froebel, afterward the
+founder of the kindergarten system of education. With Froebel he had
+entered the famous regiment of Lützow; he had met Körner, and sang the
+"Wild Hunt of Lützow," by Von Weber, as it came from the composer's pen,
+the song which is said to have driven Napoleon over the Rhine. He had
+married, lost wife and children, become melancholy and despondent, and
+finally fallen under the influence of the preaching of a Tunker, and had
+taken the resolution to give up himself entirely, his will and desires,
+and to live only for others, and to follow the spiritual impression,
+which he believed to be the Divine will. He was simple and sincere. His
+friends had treated him ill on his becoming a Tunker, but he forgave
+them all, and said: "You reject me from your hearts and homes. I will go
+to the new country, and perhaps I may find there a better place for us
+all. If I do, I will return to you and treat you as Joseph treated his
+brethren. You are oppressed; you have to bear arms for years. I am left
+alone in the world. Something calls me over the sea."
+
+He lived near Marienthal, the Vale of Mary. It was a lovely place, and
+his heart loved it and all the old German villages, with their songs and
+children's festivals, churches, and graves. He bade farewell to Froebel.
+"I am going to study life," he said, "in the wilderness of the New
+World." He came to Pennsylvania, and met the Brethren there who had come
+from Germany, and then traveled with an Indian agent to Rock Island,
+Illinois, where he had met Black Hawk. Here he resolved to become a
+traveling teacher, preacher, and missionary, after the usages of his
+order, and he asked Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide.
+
+"Return to me in May," said the chief, "and I will provide you with as
+noble a son of the forest as ever breathed the air."
+
+He returned to Ohio, and was now on his way to visit the old chief
+again.
+
+The country was a wonder to him. Coming from middle Germany and the
+Rhine lands, everything seemed vast and limitless. The prairies with
+their bluebells, the prairie islands with their giant trees, the forests
+that shaded the streams, were all like a legend, a fairy story, a dream.
+He admired the heroic spirit of the pioneers, and he took the Indians to
+his heart. In this spirit he began to travel over the unbroken prairies
+of Indiana and Illinois.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES.
+
+
+The red sun was glimmering through the leafless boughs of the great oaks
+when Jasper again came to the gate of Thomas Lincoln's log cabin. Mr.
+Crawford had remained after school with the tall boy who had brought
+"obliquity" upon the spelling-class. Tradition reports that there was a
+great rattling of leather breeches, and expostulations, and lamentations
+at such solemn, private interviews. Mr. Crawford, who was "great on
+thrashing," no doubt did his duty as he understood it at that private
+session at sundown. Sticks were plenty in those days, and the will to
+use them strong among most pioneer schoolmasters.
+
+Abraham Lincoln and his sister accompanied Jasper to the log-house. They
+heard the lusty cry for consideration and mercy in the log school-house
+as they were going, and stopped to listen. Jasper did not approve of
+this rugged discipline.
+
+"I should not treat the boy in that way," said he philosophically.
+
+"You wouldn't?" said Abraham. "Why? Crawford is a great teacher; he
+knows everything. He can cipher as far as the rule of three."
+
+"Yes, lad, but the true purpose of education is to form character. Fear
+does not make true worth, but counterfeit character. If education fails
+to produce real character, it fails utterly. True education is a matter
+of the soul as much as of the mind. It should make a boy want to do
+right because it is the right thing to do right. Anything that fails to
+produce character for its own sake, and not for a selfish reason, is a
+mistake. But what am I doing--criticising? Now, that is wrong. I seemed
+to be talking with Froebel. Yes, Crawford is a great teacher, all things
+considered. He does well who does his best. You have a great school. It
+is not like the old German schools, but you do well."
+
+Jasper began a discourse about Pestalozzi and that great thinker's views
+of universal education. But the words were lost on the air. The views of
+Pestalozzi were not much discussed in southern Indiana at this time,
+though the idea of common-school education prevailed everywhere.
+
+Thomas Lincoln stood at the gate awaiting the return of Jasper.
+
+"I'm proper glad that you've come back to see us all," said he. "Wife
+has been lookin' for ye. What did you think of the school? Great, isn't
+it? That Crawford is a big man in these parts. They say he can cipher to
+the rule of three, whatever that may be. Indiana is going to be great on
+education, in my opinion."
+
+He was right. Indiana, with an investment of some ten million of dollars
+for public education, and with an army of well-trained teachers, leads
+the middle West in the excellence of her schools. Her model school
+system, which to-day would delight a Pestalozzi or a Froebel, had its
+rude beginning in schools like Crawford's.
+
+"Come, come in," said Thomas Lincoln, and led the way into the
+log-house.
+
+"This is my wife," said he to Jasper.
+
+The woman had a serene and benevolent face. Her features were open and
+plain, but there was heart-life in them. It was a face that could have
+been molded only by a truly good heart. It was strong, long-suffering,
+sympathetic, and self-restrained. Her forehead was high and thoughtful,
+her eyes large and expressive, and her voice loving and cheerful. Jasper
+felt at once that he was in the presence of a woman of decision of
+character.
+
+"Then you are a Tunker," she said. "I am a Baptist, too, but not your
+kind. But such things matter little if the heart is right."
+
+"You have well said," answered Jasper. "The true life is in the soul. We
+both belong to the same kingdom, and shall have the same life and drink
+from the same fountain and eat the same bread. Have you been here long?"
+
+"Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "and we have seen some dark days. We lived
+in the half-faced camp out yonder when I first came here. My first wife
+died of milk-sickness here. She was Abraham's mother. Ever heard of the
+milk-sickness, as the fever was called? It swept away a great many of
+the early inhabitants. Those were dark, dark days. I shall never forget
+them."
+
+"So your real mother is dead," said Jasper to Abraham.
+
+"I try to be a mother to him, poor boy," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Abraham is
+good to me and to everybody; one of the best boys I ever knew, though I
+ought not to praise him to his face. He does the best he can."
+
+"Awful lazy. You didn't tell that," said Thomas Lincoln; "all head and
+books. He is. I believe in tellin' the whole truth."
+
+"Oh, well," said Mrs. Lincoln, "some persons work with their hands, and
+some with their heads, and some with their hearts. Abraham's head is
+always at work--he isn't like most other boys. And as far as his
+heart--Well, I do love that boy, and I am his step-mother, too. He's
+always been so good to me that I love to tell on't. His father, I'm
+thinkin', is rather hard on him sometimes. Abe's heart knows mine and I
+know his'n, and I couldn't think more on him if he was my own son. His
+poor mother sleeps out there under the great trees; but I mean to be
+such a mother to him that he will never know no difference."
+
+"Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "Abraham does middlin' well, considerin'.
+But he does provoke me sometimes. He would provoke old Job himself. Why,
+he will take a book with him into the corn-field, and he reads and
+reads, and his head gets loose and goes off into the air, and he puts
+the pumpkin-seeds in the wrong hills, like as not. He is great on the
+English Reader. I'd just like for you to hear him recite poetry out of
+that book. He's great on poetry; writes it himself. But that isn't
+neither here nor there. Come, preacher, we'll have some supper."
+
+The Tunker lifted his hand and said grace, after which the family sat
+down to the table.
+
+"We used to eat off a puncheon when we first came to these parts," said
+Mr. Lincoln. "We had no beds, and we slept on a floor of pounded clay.
+My new wife brought all of this grand furniture to me. That beereau
+looks extravagant--now don't it?--for poor folks, too. I sometimes think
+that she ought to sell it. I am told that in a city place it would be
+worth as much as fifty dollars."
+
+There were indeed a few good articles of furniture in the house.
+
+The supper consisted of corn-bread of very rough meal, and of bacon,
+eggs, and coffee.
+
+"Do you smoke?" asked Mr. Lincoln, when the meal was over.
+
+"No," said Jasper. "I have given up everything of that kind, luxuries,
+and even my own name. Let us talk about our experiences. There is no
+news in the world like the news from the soul. A man's inner life and
+experience are about all that is worth talking about. It is the king
+that makes the crown."
+
+But Thomas Lincoln was not a man of deep inward experiences and
+subjective ideas, though his first wife had been such a person, and
+would have delighted Jasper. Mr. Lincoln liked best to talk about his
+family and the country, and was more interested in the slow news that
+came from the new settlements than in the revelations from a higher
+world. His former wife, Abraham's mother, had been a mystic, but there
+was little sentiment in him.
+
+"You said that you were going to meet Black Hawk," said Mr. Lincoln.
+"Where do you expect to find him? He's everywhere, ain't he?"
+
+"I am going to the Sac village at Rock Island. It is a long journey, but
+the Voice tells me to go."
+
+"That is away across the Illinois, on the Mississippi River, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, the Sac village looks down on the Mississippi. It is a beautiful
+place. The prairies spread around it like seas. I love to think of it.
+It commands a noble view. I do not wonder that the Indians love it, and
+made it the burial-place of their race. I would love it myself."
+
+"You favor the Indians, do you?"
+
+"Yes. All men are my brothers. The field is the world. I am going to try
+to preach and teach among the Sacs and Foxes, as soon as I can find an
+interpreter, and Black Hawk has promised me one. He has sent for him to
+come down to Rock Island and meet me. He lives at Prairie du Chien, far
+away in the north, I am told."
+
+"Don't you have any antipathy against the Indians, preacher?"
+
+"No, none at all. Do you?"
+
+"My father was murdered by an Indian. Let me tell you about it. Not that
+I want to discourage you--you mean well; but I don't feel altogether as
+you do about the red-skins, preacher. You and Abe would agree better on
+the subject than you and I. Abe is tender-hearted--takes after his
+mother."
+
+Thomas Lincoln filled his pipe. "Abe," as his oldest boy was called, sat
+in the fireplace, "the flue," as it was termed. By his side sat John
+Hanks, who had recently arrived from Kentucky--a rough, kindly-looking
+man.
+
+[Illustration: LINES WRITTEN BY LINCOLN ON THE LEAF OF HIS SCHOOL-BOOK
+IN HIS FOURTEENTH YEAR.
+
+Preserved by his Step-mother.
+
+_Original in possession of J. W. Weik._]
+
+"Wait a minute," said great-hearted Mrs. Lincoln--"wait a minute before
+you begin."
+
+"What are you going to do, mother (wife)?"
+
+"I'm just going to set these potatoes to roast before the fire, so we
+can have a little treat all by ourselves when you have got through your
+story. There, that is all."
+
+The poor woman sat down by the table--she had brought the table to her
+husband on her marriage; he probably never owned a table--and began to
+knit, saying:
+
+"Abraham, you mind the potatoes. Don't let 'em burn."
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"Mother"--the word seemed to make her happy. Her face lighted. She sat
+knitting for an hour, silent and serene, while Thomas Lincoln talked.
+
+
+_THOMAS LINCOLN'S STORY._
+
+"My father," began the old story-teller, "came to Kentucky from
+Virginia. His name was Abraham Lincoln. I have always thought that was a
+good, solid name--a worthy name--and so I gave it to my boy here, and
+hope that he will never bring any disgrace upon it. I never can be much
+in this world; Abe may.
+
+"This was in Daniel Boone's day. On our way to Kentucky we began to hear
+terrible stories of the Indian attacks on the new settlers. In 1780, the
+year that we emigrated from Virginia, there were many murders of the
+settlers by the Indians, which were followed by the battle of Lower Blue
+Licks, in which Boone's son was wounded.
+
+"I have heard my mother and the old settlers talk over that battle.
+When Daniel Boone found that his son was wounded, he tried to carry him
+away. There was a river near, and he lifted the boy upon his back and
+hurried toward it. As he came to the river, the boy grew heavy.
+
+"'Father, I believe that I am dying,' said the boy.
+
+"'We will be across the river soon,' said Boone. 'Hold on.'
+
+"The boy clung to his father's neck with stiffening arms. While they
+were crossing the river the son died. Oh, it was a sight for pity--now,
+wasn't it, preacher? Boone in the river, with the dead body of his boy
+on his back. Our country has known few scenes like that. How that father
+must 'a' felt! You furriners little know these things.
+
+"The Indians swam after him. He laid down the body of his son on the
+ground and struck into the forest.
+
+"It was in this war that Boone's little daughter was carried away by the
+Indians. I must tell ye. I love to talk of old times.
+
+"She was at play with two other little girls outside of the stockade at
+Boonesborough, on the Kentucky River. There was a canoe on the bank.
+
+"'Let us take the canoe and go across the river,' said one of the girls,
+innocent-like.
+
+"Well, they got into the boat and paddled across the running river to
+the opposite side. They reached shallow water, when a party of Indians,
+who had been watching them, cunning-like, stole out of the thick trees
+'n' rushed down to the canoe 'n' drew it to the shore. The girls
+screamed, and their cries were heard at the fort.
+
+"Night was falling. Three of the Indians took a little girl apiece,
+and, looking back to the fort in the sunset, uttered a shriek of
+defiance, such as would ha' made yer flesh creep, and disappeared in the
+timber.
+
+"That night a party was got together at the fort to pursue the Indians
+and rescue the children.
+
+"Well, near the close of the next day the party came upon these Indians,
+some forty miles from the fort. They approached the camp cautiously,
+coyote-like, 'n' saw that the girls were there.
+
+"'Shoot carefully, now,' said the leader. 'Each man bring down an
+Indian, or the children will be killed before we can reach them.'
+
+"They fired upon the Indians, picking out the three who were nearest the
+children. Not one of the Indians was hit, but the whole party was
+terribly frightened, leaped up, 'n' run like deer. The children were
+rescued unharmed 'n' taken back to the fort. You would think them was
+pretty hard times, wouldn't ye?
+
+"There was one event that happened at the time about which I have heard
+the old folks tell, with staring eyes, and I will never forget it. The
+Indians came one night to attack a log-house in which were a man, his
+wife, and daughter, named Merrill. They did not wish to burn the cabin,
+but to enter it and make captives of the family; so they cut a hole in
+the door, with their hatchets, large enough to crawl through one at a
+time. They wounded Mr. Merrill outright.
+
+"But Mrs. Merrill was a host in herself. Her only weapon was an axe, and
+there never was fought in Kentucky, or anywhere else in the world, I'm
+thinkin', such another battle as that.
+
+"The leader of the Indians put his head through the hole in the door and
+began to crawl into the room, slowly--slowly--so--"
+
+Mr. Lincoln put out his great arms, and moved his hands mysteriously.
+
+"Well," he continued, "what do you suppose happened? Mrs. Merrill she
+dealt that Indian a death-blow on the head with the axe, just like
+_that_, and then drew him in slowly, slowly. The Indians without thought
+that he had crawled in himself, and another Indian followed him slowly,
+slowly. That Indian received his death-blow on the head, and was pulled
+in like the first, slowly. Another and another Indian were treated in
+the same way, until the dark cabin floor presented an awful scene for
+the morning.
+
+"Only one or two were left without. The women felt that they were now
+the masters in the contest, and stood looking on what they had done.
+There fell a silence over the place. Still, awful still everywhere. What
+a silence it was! The two Indians outside listened. Why were their
+comrades so still? What had happened? Why was everything so still? One
+of them tried to look through the hole in the door into the dark and
+bloody room. Then the two attempted to climb down the chimney from the
+low roof of the cabin, but Mrs. Merrill put her bed into the fireplace
+and set it on fire.
+
+"Such were some of the scenes of my father's few years of life in
+Kentucky; and now comes the most dreadful memory of all. Oh, it makes me
+wild to think o' it! Preacher, as I said, my father was killed by the
+Indians. You did not know that before, did you? No; well, it was so.
+Abraham Lincoln was shot by the red-skins. I was with him at the time, a
+little boy then, and I shall never forget that awful morning--never,
+never!--Abraham, mind the potatoes; you've heard the story a hundred
+times."
+
+Young Abraham Lincoln turned the potatoes and brightened the fire.
+Thomas Lincoln bent over and rested his body on his knees, and held his
+pipe out in one hand.
+
+"Preacher, listen. One morning father looked out of the cabin door, and
+said to mother:
+
+"'I must go to the field and build a fence to-day. I will let Tommy go
+with me.'
+
+"I was Tommy. I was six years old then. He loved me, and liked to have
+me with him. It was in the year 1784--I never shall forget the dark days
+of that year!--never, never.
+
+"I had two brothers older than myself, Mordecai and Josiah. We give boys
+Scriptur' names in those days. They had gone to work in another field
+near by.
+
+"We went to the field where the rails were to be cut and laid, and
+father began to work. He was a great, noble-looking man, and a true
+pioneer. I can see him now. I was playing near him, when suddenly there
+came a shot as it were out of the air. My poor father reeled over and
+fell down dead. What must have been his last thoughts of my mother and
+her five children? I have often thought of that--what must have been his
+last thoughts? Well, Preacher, you listen.
+
+"A band of Indians came leaping out of the bush howling like demons. I
+fell upon the ground. I can sense the fright now. A tall, black Indian,
+with a face like a wolf, came and stood over me, and was about to seize
+hold of me. I could hear him breathe. There came a shot from the house,
+and the Indian dropped down beside me, dead. My brother Mordecai had
+seen father fall, 'n' ran to the house 'n' fired that shot that saved my
+life. Josiah had gone to the stockade for help, and he returned soon
+with armed men, and the Indians disappeared.
+
+"O Preacher, those were dark days, wasn't they? Dark, dark days! You
+never saw such. They took up my father's body--what a sight!--and bore
+it into the cabin. You should have seen my poor mother then. What was to
+help us? Only the blue heavens were left us then. What could we do? My
+mother and five children alone in the wilderness full of savages!
+
+"Preacher, I have seen dark days! I have known what it was to be poor
+and supperless and friendless; but I never sought revenge on the
+Indians, though Mordecai did. I'm glad that you're going to preach among
+them. I couldn't do it, with such memories as mine, perhaps; but I'm
+glad you can, 'n' I hope that you will go and do them good. Heaven bless
+those who seek to do good in this sinful world--"
+
+"Abraham, are the potatoes done?" said a gentle voice.
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"Then pass them 'round. Give the preacher one first; then your father. I
+do not care for any."
+
+The tall boy passed the roasted potatoes around as directed. Jasper ate
+his potato in silence. The stories of the hardships of this forest
+family had filled his heart with sympathy, and Thomas Lincoln had
+_acted_ the stories that he told in such a way as to leave a most vivid
+impression on his mind.
+
+"These stories make you sad," said Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper. "They are
+heart-rendin', and I sometimes think it is almost wrong to tell them. Do
+you think it is right to tell a story that awakens hard and rebellious
+feelin's? 'Evil communications corrupt good manners,' the Good Book
+says. I sometimes wish that folks would tell only stories that are good,
+and make one the better for hearin'--parables like."
+
+"My heart feels for you all," said Jasper. "I feel for everybody. This
+life is all new to me."
+
+"Let us have something more cheerful now," said Mrs. Lincoln.--"Abraham,
+recite to the preacher a piece from the English Reader."
+
+"Which one, mother?"
+
+"The Hermit--how would that do? I don't know much about poetry, but
+Abraham does. He makes it up. It is a queer turn of mind he has. He
+learns all the poetry that he can find, and makes it up himself out of
+his own head. He's got poetry in him, though he don't look so. How he
+ever does it, puzzles me. His mother was poetic like. It is a gift, like
+grace. Where do you suppose it comes from, and what will he ever do with
+it? He ain't like other boys. He's kind o' peculiar some.--Come,
+Abraham, recite to us The Hermit. It is a proper good piece."
+
+The tall boy came out of "the flue" and stood before the dying fire. The
+old leather-covered English Reader, which he said in later life was the
+best book ever written, lay on the table before him. He did not open it,
+however. He put his hands behind him and raised his dark face as in a
+kind of abstraction. He began to recite slowly in a clear voice, full
+of a peculiar sympathy that gave color to every word. He seemed as
+though he felt that the experience of the poet was somehow a prophecy of
+his own life; and it was. He himself became a skeptical man in religious
+thought, but returned to the simple faith of his ancestors amid the dark
+scenes of war.
+
+The poem was a beautiful one in form and soul, an old English pastoral,
+by Beattie. How grand it seemed, even to unpoetic Thomas Lincoln, as it
+flowed from the lips of his studious son!
+
+_THE HERMIT._
+
+    At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
+      And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove;
+    When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill,
+      And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove:
+    'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar,
+      While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began;
+    No more with himself or with Nature at war,
+      He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man:
+
+    "Ah, why, all abandoned to darkness and woe,
+      Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall?
+    For spring shall return, and a lover bestow,
+      And sorrow no longer thy bosom inthrall.
+    But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay,
+      Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn;
+    O soothe him whose pleasures like thine pass away:
+      Full quickly they pass--but they never return.
+
+    "Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky,
+      The moon, half extinguished, her crescent displays:
+    But lately I marked when majestic on high
+      She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze.
+    Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue
+      The path that conducts thee to splendor again:
+    But man's faded glory what change shall renew?
+      Ah, fool! to exult in a glory so vain!
+
+    "'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more:
+      I mourn; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;
+    For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
+      Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew.
+    Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;
+      Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save:
+    But when shall spring visit the moldering urn?
+      Oh, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave?
+
+    "'Twas thus by the glare of false science betrayed,
+      That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind;
+    My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade,
+      Destruction before me, and sorrow behind.
+    'Oh pity, great Father of light,' then I cried,
+      'Thy creature who fain would not wander from thee!
+    Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride:
+      From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.'
+
+    "And darkness and doubt are now flying away;
+      No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn:
+    So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray,
+      The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.
+    See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending,
+      And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!
+    On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,
+      And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb."
+
+Mrs. Lincoln used to listen to such recitations as this from the English
+Readers and Kentucky Orators with delight and wonder. She loved the boy
+with all her heart. In all the biographies of Lincoln there is hardly a
+more pathetic incident than one told by Mr. Herndon of his visit to Mrs.
+Lincoln after the assassination and the national funeral. Mr. Herndon
+was the law partner of Lincoln for many years, and we give the incident
+here, out of place as it is. Mrs. Lincoln said to her step-son's friend:
+
+"Abe was a poor boy, and I can say what scarcely one woman--a
+mother--can say, in a thousand: Abe never gave me a cross word or look,
+and never refused, in fact or appearance, to do anything I requested
+him. I never gave him a cross word in all my life.... His mind and my
+mind--what little I had--seemed to run together.... He was here after he
+was elected President." Here she stopped, unable to proceed any further,
+and after her grateful emotions had spent themselves in tears, she
+proceeded: "He was dutiful to me always. I think he loved me truly. I
+had a son, John, who was raised with Abe. Both were good boys; but I
+must say, both being now dead, that Abe was the best boy I ever saw or
+ever expect to see. I wish I had died when my husband died. I did not
+want Abe to run for President, did not want him elected; was afraid,
+somehow--felt it in my heart; and when he came down to see me, after he
+was elected President, I felt that something would befall him, and that
+I should see him no more."
+
+Equally beautiful was the scene when Lincoln visited this good woman for
+the last time, just before going to Washington to be inaugurated
+President.
+
+"Abraham," she said, as she stood in her humble backwoods cabin,
+"something tells me that I shall never see you again."
+
+He put his hand around her neck, lifted her face to heaven and said,
+"Mother!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY-TELLERS.
+
+
+_JOHNNIE KONGAPOD'S INCREDIBLE STORY._
+
+The country store, in most new settlements, is the resort of
+story-tellers. It was not so here. There was a log blacksmith-shop by
+the wayside near the Gentryville store, overspread by the cool boughs of
+pleasant trees, and having a glowing forge and wide-open doors, which
+was a favorite resort of 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 clear practical thought to Legislatures,
+senates, and councils of war. Abraham Lincoln claimed that he obtained
+his education by learning all that he could of any one who could teach
+him anything. In all the curious stories told in his hearing in this
+quaint Indiana smithy, he read some lesson of life.
+
+The old blacksmith was a natural story-teller. Young Lincoln liked to
+warm himself by the forge in winter and sun himself in the open door in
+summer, and tempt this sinewy man to talk. The smithy was a common
+resort of Thomas Lincoln, 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-stand of that day, the
+literary club, the lecture platform, the place of amusement, and
+everything that stirred associated life, found its common center in this
+rude old smithy by the wayside, amid the running brooks and fanning
+trees.
+
+The stories told here were the curious incidents and adventures of
+pioneer life, rude in fact and rough in language, but having pith and
+point.
+
+Thomas Lincoln, on the afternoon of the next day, said to Jasper:
+
+"Come, preacher, let's go over to the smithy. I want ye to see the
+blacksmith. We all like to see the blacksmith in these parts; he's an
+uncommon man."
+
+They went to the smithy. Abraham followed them. The forge was low, and
+the blacksmith was hammering over old nails on the anvil.
+
+"Hello!" said Thomas Lincoln; "not doin' much to-day. I brought the
+preacher over to call on you--he's a Tunker--has been to see the
+school--he teaches himself--thought you'd want to know him."
+
+"Glad you come. Here, sit down in the leather chair, and make yourself
+at home. Been long in these new parts?"
+
+"No, my friend; I have been to Illinois, but I have never been here
+before. I am glad to see you."
+
+[Illustration: STORY-TELLING AT THE SMITHY.]
+
+"What do you think of the country?" said the blacksmith. "Think it is a
+good place to settle in? Hope that you have come to cast your lot with
+us. We need 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 and prairies. I hope that you will like it, and
+get your folks to come. We'll do all we can for you. We be men of good
+will, if we be hard-looking and poor."
+
+"My good friend, I believe you. You are great-hearted men, and I like
+you."
+
+"Brainy, too. Let me start up the forge."
+
+"Preacher, come here," said Thomas Lincoln. "I haven't had no edication
+to speak of, but I've invented a new system of book-keepin' that beats
+the schools. There's one of them there. The blacksmith keeps all of his
+accounts by it. I've got one on a puncheon at home; did you notice it?
+This is how it is; you may want to use it yourself. Come and look at
+it."
+
+On a rough board over the forge Thomas Lincoln had drawn a number of
+straight lines with a coal, as are sometimes put on a blackboard by a
+singing-master. On the lower bars were several cloudy erasures, and at
+the end of these bars were initials.
+
+"Don't understand it, do you? Well, now, it is perfectly simple. I
+taught it to Aunt Olive, and she don't know more than some whole
+families, though she thinks that she knows more than the whole creation.
+Seen such people, 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 sermons, and you can't collect them all the time. Well,
+all you have to do is just to draw your finger across one of them lines,
+and write his initials after it. And when he comes again, rub out
+another place on the same lines."
+
+"And when you have rubbed out all the places you could along that line,
+how much would you be worth?" said the blacksmith.
+
+"I call that a new way of keeping accounts," continued Thomas Lincoln,
+earnestly. "Did you ever see anything of the kind before? No. It's a new
+and original way. We do a great lot o' thinkin' down here in
+winter-time, when we haven't much else to do. I'm goin' to put one o'
+them new systems into the mill."
+
+The meetings of the pioneers at the blacksmith's shop formed a kind of
+merry-go-round club. One would tell a story in his own odd way, and
+another would say, "That reminds me," and tell a similar story that was
+intended to exceed the first in point of humor. One of Thomas Lincoln's
+favorite stories was "GL-UK!" or, as he sometimes termed it--
+
+
+"_HOW ABRAHAM WENT TO MILL._
+
+"It was a mighty curi's happenin'," he would say. "I don't know how to
+account for it--the human mind is a very strange thing. We 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 again; if it have the new
+life and sense, it wakes again somewhere. We're curi's critters, all on
+us, and don't know what we are.
+
+"When I first came to Indiana I made a mill of my own--Abe and I did.
+'Twas just a big stone attached to a heavy pole like a well-sweep, so as
+to pound heavy, up and down, up and down. You can see it now, though it
+is all out of gear and kilter.
+
+"Then, they built a mill 'way down on the river, and I used to send Abe
+there on horseback. Took him all day to go and come: used to start early
+in the mornin', and, as he had to wait his turn at the mill, 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 he goes round
+and round, and never gets nowhere, but he grinds the corn and wheat.
+Something like me: I go round and round, and never seem to get anywhere,
+but something will come of it, you may depend.
+
+"Well, one day I says to Abraham:
+
+"You must hitch up the horse and go to Gordon's to mill. The meal-tub is
+low, and there's a storm a-brewin'.'
+
+"So Abe hitched up the horse and started. That horse is a mighty steady
+animal--goes around just like a machine; hasn't any capers nor
+antics--just as sober as a minister. I should have no more thought of
+his kickin' than I should have thought of the millstones a-hoppin' out
+of the hopper. 'Twas a mighty curi's affair.
+
+"Well, Abe went to Gordon's, and his turn come to grind. He hitched the
+horse to the pole, and said, as always, 'Get up, you old jade!' I always
+say that, so Abe does. He didn't mean any disrespect to the horse, who
+always maintained a very respectable-like character up to that day.
+
+"The horse went round and round, round and round, just as steady as
+clock-work, until the grist was nearly out, and the 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 jade!' then puckered up his
+mouth, so, to say 'Gluck.' 'Tis a word I taught him to use. Every one
+has his own horse-talk.
+
+"He waved his stick, and said 'Gl--'
+
+"Was the horse bewildered? He never did such a thing before. In an
+instant, like a thunder-clap when the sun was shinin', he h'isted up his
+heels and kicked Abraham in the head, and knocked him over on the
+ground, and then stopped as though to think on what he had done.
+
+"The mill-hands ran to Abraham. There the boy lay stretched out on the
+ground just as though he was dead. They thought he was dead. They got
+some water, and worked over him a spell. They could see that he
+breathed, but they thought that every breath would be his last.
+
+"'He's done for this world,' said Gordon. 'He'll never come to his
+senses again. Thomas Lincoln would be proper sorry.' And so I should
+have been had Abraham died. Sometimes I think like it was the Evil One
+that possessed that horse. It don't seem to me that he'd 'a' ever ha'
+kicked Abe of his own self--right in the head, too. You can see the scar
+on him now.
+
+"Well, almost an hour passed, when Abe came to himself--consciousness
+they call it--all at once, in an instant. And what do you think was the
+first thing he said? Just this--'uk!'
+
+"He finished the word just where he left it when the horse kicked him,
+and looked around wild-like, and there was the critter standin' still as
+the mill-stun.' Now, where do you think the soul of Abe was between
+'Gl--' and 'uk'? I'd like to have ye tell me that."
+
+A long discussion would follow such a question. Abraham Lincoln himself
+once discussed the same curious incident with his law-partner Herndon,
+and made it a subject of the continuance of mental consciousness after
+death.
+
+It was a warm afternoon. A dark cloud hung in the northern sky, and grew
+slowly over the arch of serene and sunny blue.
+
+"Goin' to have a storm," said the blacksmith. "Shouldn't wonder if it
+were a tempest. We generally get a tempest about this time of year, when
+winter finally breaks up into spring. Well, I declare! there comes
+Johnnie Kongapod, the Kickapoo Indian from Illinois--he and his dogs."
+
+A tall Indian was seen coming toward the smithy, followed by two dogs.
+The men watched him as he approached. He was a kind of chief, and had
+accepted the teachings 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 heart. He once composed an epitaph
+for himself, which was well meant but read oddly, and which Abraham
+Lincoln sometimes used to quote in his professional career:
+
+    "Here lies poor Johnnie Kongapod,
+    Have mercy on him, gracious God,
+    As he would do if he was God,
+    And you were Johnnie Kongapod."
+
+The Indian sat down on the log sill of the blacksmith's shop, and
+watched the gathering cloud as it slowly shut out the sky.
+
+"Storm," said he. "Lay down, Jack; lay down, Jim."
+
+Jack and Jim were his two dogs. They eyed the flaming forge. One of them
+seemed tired, and lay down beside his master, but the other made himself
+troublesome.
+
+"That reminds me," said Dennis Hanks; and he related a curious story of
+a troublesome dog, perhaps the one which in its evolutions 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. Lincoln himself is represented as telling
+this, or a like story, to General Grant after the Vicksburg campaign,
+something as follows:
+
+"'Your enemies were constantly coming to me with their criticisms while
+the siege was in progress, and they did not cease their ill opinions
+after the city fell. 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 tried to show me the great mistake that
+you had made in paroling Pemberton's army, I thought I could get rid of
+them best by telling the story of Sykes's dog.
+
+"'Have you ever heard the story of Sykes's dog?' I said to the spokesman
+of the delegation.
+
+"'No.'
+
+"'Well, I must tell it to you. Sykes had a yellow dog that he set great
+store by; but there were a lot of _small boys_ around the village, and
+the dog became very unpopular among them. His eye was so keen on his
+master's interests that there arose prejudice against him. The boys
+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 stood choking,
+when one of them touched off the fuse. There was a loud report. Sykes
+came out of the house, and found the ground was strewed with pieces of
+the dog. He picked up the biggest piece that he could find--a portion of
+the back with the tail still hanging to it--and said:
+
+"'Well, I guess that will never be of much account again--_as a
+dog_.'--'I guess that Pemberton's forces will never amount to much
+again--as an army.' By this time the delegation were looking for their
+hats."
+
+Like stories followed among the merry foresters. One of them told
+another "That reminds me"--how that two boys had been pursued by a small
+but vicious dog, and one of them had caught and held him by the tail
+while the other ran up a tree. At last the boy who was holding the dog
+became tired and knew not what to do, and cried out:
+
+"Jim!"
+
+"What say?"
+
+"Come down."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To help me let go of the dog."
+
+This story, also, whatever may have been the date of it, President
+Lincoln used to tell amid the perplexities of the war. In the darkest
+times of his life at the White House his mind used to return for
+illustration to the stories told at this backwoods smithy, and at the
+country stores that he afterward came to visit at Gentryville, Indiana,
+and New Salem, Illinois.
+
+He delighted in the blacksmith's own stories and jokes. The man's name
+was John Baldwin. He was the Homer of Gentryville, as the village
+portion of this vast unsettled portion of country was called. Dennis
+Hanks, Abraham 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 President, his mind went back to the quaint smithy in the
+cool, free woods, and to the country stores, and he told these stories
+all over again. It seemed restful to his mind to wander back to old
+Indiana and Illinois.
+
+The cloud grew. The air darkened. There was an occasional rustle of wind
+in the tree-tops.
+
+"It's comin'," said the blacksmith. "Now, Johnnie Kongapod, you tell us
+the story. Tell us how Aunt Olive frightened ye when you went to pilot
+her off to the camp-meetin'."
+
+"No," said Johnnie Kongapod. "It thunders. You must get Aunt Olive to
+tell you that story."
+
+"When you come to meet her," said the blacksmith to Jasper. "Kongapod
+would tell it to you, but he's afraid of the cloud. No wonder."
+
+A vivid flash of lightning forked the sky. There followed an appalling
+crash of thunder, a light wind, a few drops of rain, a darker air, and
+all was still. The men looked out as the cloud passed over.
+
+"You will have to stay here now," said the blacksmith, "until the cloud
+has passed. Our stories may seem rather rough to you, edicated as you
+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
+German stories, may be I'll tell you how Johnnie Kongapod here and Aunt
+Olive went to the camp-meetin', and what happened to them on the way."
+
+There was a long silence on the dark air. The blacksmith enlivened the
+fire, which lit up the shop. Jasper sat down in the leather chair, and
+said:
+
+"Those Indian dogs remind me of scenes and stories unlike anything here.
+The life of the dog has its lesson true, and there is nothing truer in
+this world than the heart of a shepherd's dog. I am a shepherd's dog. I
+am speaking in parable; you will understand me better by and by.
+
+"Let me tell you the story of 'THE SHEPHERD DOG,' and the story will
+also tell a story, as do all stories that have a soul; and it is only
+stories that have souls that live. The true story gathers a soul from
+the one who tells it, else it is no story at all.
+
+"There once lived on the borders of the Black Forest, Germany, an old
+couple who were very poor. Their name was Gragstein. The old man kept a
+shepherd dog that had been faithful to him for many years, and that
+loved him more than it did its own life, and he came to call him
+Faithful.
+
+"One day, as the old couple were seated by the fire, Frau Gragstein
+said:
+
+"'Hear the wind blow! There is a hard winter comin', and we have less in
+our crib than we ever had before. We must live snugger than ever. We
+shall hardly have enough to keep us two. It will be a long time before
+the birds sing again. You must be more savin', and begin now. Hear the
+wind howl. It is a warning.'
+
+"'What would you have me do?' asked Gragstein.
+
+"'There are three of us, and we have hardly store for two.'
+
+"'But what would you have me do with _him_? He is old, and I could not
+sell him, or give him away.'
+
+"'Then I would take him away into the forest and shoot him, and run and
+leave him. I know it is hard, but the pinch of poverty is hard, and it
+has come.'
+
+"'Shoot Faithful! Shoot old Faithful! Take him out into the forest and
+shoot him! Why, a man's last friends are his God, his mother, and his
+dog. Would you have me shoot old Faithful? How could I?'
+
+"At the words 'Shoot old Faithful,' the great dog had started up as
+though he understood. He bent his large eyes on the old woman and
+whined, then wheeled around once and sank down at his master's feet.
+
+"'He acts as though he understood what you were saying.'
+
+"'No, he don't,' said the old woman. 'You set too much store by the dog,
+and imagine such things. He's too old to ever be of service to us any
+more, and he eats 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 not see many more. We must live
+while we do live, and the dog must be put out of the way. You must take
+Faithful out into the forest in the morning and kill him.'
+
+"The dog started up again. 'Take Faithful and kill him!' He seemed to
+comprehend. He looked into his master's face and gave a piteous howl,
+and went to the door and pawed.
+
+"'Let him go out,' said the old woman. 'What possesses him to go out
+to-night into the storm? But let him go, and then I can talk easier
+about the matter. Did you see his eyes--as if he knew? He haunts me! Let
+him go out.'
+
+"The old man opened the door, and the dog disappeared in the darkness,
+uttering another piteous howl.
+
+"Then the old couple sat down and talked over the matter, and Gragstein
+promised his wife that he would shoot the dog in the morning.
+
+"'It is hard,' said the old woman, 'but Providence wills it, and we
+must.'
+
+"The wind lulled, and there was heard a wild, pitiful howl far away in
+the forest.
+
+"'What is that?' asked the old woman, starting.
+
+"'It was Faithful.'
+
+"'So far away!'
+
+"'The poor dog acted strange. There it is again, farther away.'
+
+"The morning came, but the dog did not return. He had never stayed away
+from the old hut before. The next day he did not come, nor the next. The
+old couple missed him, and the old man bitterly reproached his wife for
+what she had advised him to do.
+
+"Winter came, with pitiless storms and cold, and the old man would go
+forth to hunt alone, wishing Faithful was with him.
+
+"'It is not safe for me to go alone,' said he. 'I wish that the dog
+would come back.'
+
+"'He will never come back,' said the old woman. 'He is dead. I can hear
+him howl nights, far away on the hill. He haunts me. Every night, when I
+put out the light, I can hear him howl out in the forest. 'Tis my
+tender heart that troubles me. 'Tis a troubled conscience that makes
+ghosts.'
+
+"The old man tottered away with his gun. It was a cold morning after a
+snow. The old woman watched him from the frosty window as he
+disappeared, and muttered:
+
+"'It is hard to be old and poor. God pity us all!'
+
+"Night came, but the old man did not return. The old woman was in great
+distress, and knew not what to do. She set the candle in the window, and
+went to the door and called a hundred times, and listened, but no answer
+came. The silent stars filled the sky, and the moon rose over the snow,
+but no answer came.
+
+"The next morning she alarmed the neighbors, and a company gathered to
+search for Gragstein. The men followed his tracks into the forests, over
+a cliff, and down to a stream of running water. They came to some thin
+ice, which had been weakened by the rush of the current, and there the
+tracks were lost.
+
+"'He attempted to cross,' said one, 'and fell in. We will find his body
+in the spring. I pity his poor old wife. What shall we tell her?--What
+was that?'
+
+"There was heard a pitiful howl on the other side of the stream.
+
+"'Look!' said another.
+
+"Just across the stream a great, lean shepherd dog came out of the snow
+tents of firs. His voice was weak, but he howled pitifully, as though
+calling the men.
+
+"'We must cross the stream!' said they all.
+
+"The men made a bridge by pushing logs and fallen trees across the ice.
+The dog met them joyfully, and they followed him.
+
+"Under the tents of firs they found Gragstein, ready to perish with cold
+and hunger.
+
+"'Take me home!' said he. 'I can not last long. Take me home, and call
+home the dog!'
+
+"'What has happened?' asked the men.
+
+"'I fell in. I called for help, and--the dog came--Faithful. He rescued
+me, but I was numb. He lay down on me and warmed me, and kept me alive.
+Faithful! Call home the dog!'
+
+"The men took up the old man and rubbed him, and gave him food. Then
+they called the dog and gave him food, but he would not eat.
+
+"They returned as fast as they could to the cottage. Frau Gragstein came
+out to meet them. The dog saw her and stopped and howled, dived into the
+forest, and disappeared.
+
+"The old man died that night. They buried him in a few days. The old
+woman was left all alone. The night after the funeral, when she put out
+the light, she thought that she heard a feeble howl in the still 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 evenings of many years,
+lay the body of old Faithful, dead. He had never ceased to watch the
+house, and had died true. 'Tis the best thing that we can say of any
+living creature, man or dog, he was true-hearted.
+
+"Remember the story. It will make you better. The storm is clearing."
+
+The cloud had passed over, leaving behind the blue sky of spring.
+
+"That was an awful good dog to have," said John Hanks. "There are human
+folks wouldn't 'a' done like that."
+
+"I wouldn't," said one of the men. "But here, I declare, comes the old
+woman. Been out neighborin', and got caught in the storm, and gone back
+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,
+elder--she'll tell it to you herself. She's a master-hand to go to
+meetin', and sing, and tell stories, she is.--Here, elder--this is Aunt
+Olive."
+
+The same woman that Jasper had met on his way to Pigeon Creek came into
+the blacksmith's shop, and held her hands over the warm fire.
+
+"Proper smart rain--spring tempest," said she. "Winter has broke, and we
+shall have steady weather.--Found your way, elder, didn't you? Well, I'm
+glad. It's a mighty poor sign for an elder to lose his way. You took my
+advice, didn't you?--turned to the right and kept straight ahead, and
+you got there. 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 here for?--And Johnnie Kongapod! This ain't any
+place for men in the spring of the year! I've been neighborin'. I have
+to do it just to see if folks are doin' as they oughter. There are a
+great many people who don't do as they oughter in this world. Now I am
+goin' straight home between the drops."
+
+The woman hurried away and disappeared under the trees.
+
+The cloud broke in two dark, billowy masses, and red sunset, like a sea,
+spread over the prairie, the light heightening amid glimmerings of
+pearly rain.
+
+Jasper went back to Pigeon Creek with Abraham.
+
+"Isn't that woman a little queer?" he asked--"a little touched in mind,
+may be?"
+
+"She does not like me," said the boy; "though most people like me. I
+seem to have a bent for study, and father thinks that the time I spend
+in study is wasted, and Aunt Olive calls me lazy, and so do the
+Crawfords--I don't mean the master. Most people like me, but there are
+some here that don'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 things as that it makes me feel down in the
+mouth. Do you ever feel down in the mouth? I do. I wonder what will
+become of me? Whatever happens, or folks may say, elder, I mean to make
+the best of life, and be true to the best that is in me. Something will
+come of it. Don't you think so, elder?"
+
+They came to Thomas Lincoln's cabin, and the serene face of Mrs. Lincoln
+met them at the door. A beautiful evening followed the tempest gust, and
+the Lincolns and the old Tunker sat down to a humble meal.
+
+The mild spring evening that followed drew together another group of
+people to the lowly home of Thomas Lincoln. Among them came Aunt Olive,
+whose missionary work among her neighbors was as untiring as her tongue.
+And last among the callers there came stealing into the light of the
+pine fire, like a shadow, the tall, brown form of Johnnie Kongapod, or
+Konapod.
+
+The pioneer story-telling here began again, and ended in an episode that
+left a strange, mysterious impression, like a prophecy, on nearly every
+mind.
+
+"Let me tell you the story of my courtship," said Thomas Lincoln.
+
+"Thomas!" said a mild, firm voice.
+
+"Oh, don't speak in that tone to me," said the backwoodsman to his wife,
+who had sought to check him.--"Sally don't like to hear 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 don't believe that there is an
+honester creatur' in all these parts, unless it was that Injun that
+Johnnie Kongapod tells about."
+
+A loud laugh arose, and the dusky figure of Johnnie Kongapod retreated
+silently back into a deep shadow near the open door. His feelings had
+been wounded. Young Abraham Lincoln saw the Indian's movement, and he
+went out and stood in the shadow in silent sympathy.
+
+"Well, good folks, Sally and I used to know each other before I removed
+from Kentuck' to Indiany. After my first wife died of the milk-fever I
+was lonesome-like with two young children, and about as 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 case had haunted me, that
+I would just go up to Kentucky and see. Souls kind o' draw each other a
+long way apart; it goes in the air. So I hitched up and went, and I
+found Sally at home, and all alone.
+
+"'Sally,' said I, 'do you remember me?'
+
+"'Yes,' said she, 'I remember you well. You are Tommy Linken. What has
+brought you back to Kentuck'?'
+
+"'Well, Sally,' said I, 'my wife is dead.'
+
+"'Is that so,' said she, all attention.
+
+"'Yes; wife died more than a year ago, and a good wife she was; and I've
+just come back to look for another.'
+
+"She sat like a statue, Sally did, and never spoke a word. So I said:
+
+"'Do you like me, Sally Johnson?'
+
+"'Yes, Tommy Linken.'
+
+"'You do?'
+
+"'Yes, Tommy Linken, I like you well enough to marry you, but I could
+never think of such a thing--at least not now.'
+
+"'Why?'
+
+"'Because I'm in debt, and I would never ask a man who had offered to
+marry me to pay my debts.'
+
+"'Let me hear all about it,' said I.
+
+"She brought me her account-book from the cupboard. Well, good folks,
+how much do you suppose Sally owed? Twelve dollars! It was a heap of
+money for a woman to owe in those days.
+
+"Well, I put that account-book straight into my pocket and _run_. When
+I came back, all of her debts were paid. I told her so.
+
+"'Will you marry me now?' said I.
+
+"'Yes,' said she.
+
+"And, good folks all, the next morning at nine o'clock we were married,
+and we packed up all her things and started on our weddin' tour to
+Indiany, and here we be now. Now that is what I call an honest
+woman.--Johnnie Kongapod, can you beat that? Come, now, Johnnie
+Kongapod."
+
+The Indian still stood in the shadow, with young Abraham beside him. He
+did not answer.
+
+"Johnnie is great on telling stories of good Injuns," said Mr. Lincoln,
+"and we think that kind o' Injuns have about all gone up to the moonlit
+huntin'-grounds."
+
+The tall form of the Indian moved into the light of the doorway. His
+eyes gleamed.
+
+"Thomas Linken, that story that I told you was true."
+
+"What! that an Injun up to Prairie du Chien was condemned to die, and
+that he asked to go home and see his family all alone, and promised to
+return on his honor?"
+
+"Yes, Thomas Linken."
+
+"And that they let him go home all alone, and that he spent his night
+with his family in weepin' and wailin', and returned the next mornin' to
+be shot?"
+
+"Yes, Thomas Linken."
+
+"And that they shot him?"
+
+"Yes, Thomas Linken."
+
+"Well, Johnnie, if I could believe that, I could believe anything."
+
+"An Injun has honor as well as a white man, Thomas Linken."
+
+"Who taught it to him?"
+
+"His own heart--_here_. The Great Spirit's voice is in every man's
+heart; his will is born in all men; his love and care are over us all.
+You may 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 the heavens. That story was true, and I know it to be true, and the
+Great Spirit knows it to be true. Johnnie Kongapod is an honest Injun."
+
+"Then we have two honest folks here," said Aunt Olive. "Three,
+mebby--only Tom Linken owes me a dollar and a half. So, Jasper, you see
+that you have come to good parts. You'll see some strange things in your
+travels, way off to Rock 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 of the family of that Indian that
+went home on his honor all alone to see his family, and came back to be
+shot or hung, you just let us know. I'd like to adopt one of his boys.
+That would be something to begin a Sunday-school with!"
+
+The company burst into another loud laugh.
+
+Johnnie Kongapod raised his long arm and stood silent. Aunt Olive
+stepped before him and looked him in the face. The Indian's red face
+glowed, and he said vehemently: "Woman, that story is true!"
+
+Sally Lincoln arose and rested her hand on the Indian's shoulder.
+"Johnny Kongapod, I can believe you--Abraham can."
+
+There was a deep silence in the cabin, broken only by Aunt Olive, who
+arose indignantly and hurried away, and flung back on the mild air the
+sharp words "_I_ don't!"
+
+The story of the Indian who held honor to be more than life, as related
+by Johnnie Kongapod, had often been told by the Indians at their
+camp-fires, and by traveling preachers and missionaries who had faith in
+Indian character. Among those settlers who held all Indians to be bad it
+was treated as a joke. Old Jasper asked Johnnie Kongapod many questions
+about it, and at last laid his hand on the dusky poet's shoulder, and
+said:
+
+"My brother, I hope that it is true. I believe it, and I honor you for
+believing it. It is a good heart that believes what is best in life."
+
+How strange all this new life seemed to Jasper! How unlike the old
+castles and cottages of Germany, and the cities of the Rhine! And yet,
+for the tall boy by that cabin fire new America had an opportunity that
+Germany could offer to no peasant's son. Jasper little thought that that
+boy, so lively, so rude, so anxious to succeed, was an uncrowned king;
+yet so it was.
+
+And the legend? A true story has a soul, and a peculiar atmosphere and
+influence. Jasper saw what the Indian's story was, though he had heard
+it only indirectly and in outline. It haunted him. He carried it with
+him into his dreams.
+
+[Illustration: THE HOME OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN WHEN IN HIS TENTH YEAR.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A BOY WITH A HEART.
+
+
+Spring came early to the forests and prairies of southern Indiana. In
+March the maples began to burn, and the tops of the timber to change,
+and to take on new hues in the high sun and lengthening days. The birds
+were on the wing, and the banks of the streams were beginning to look
+like gardens, as indeed Nature's gardens they were.
+
+The woodland ponds were full of turtles or terrapins, and these began to
+travel about in the warm spring air.
+
+There was a great fireplace in Crawford's school, and, as fuel cost
+nothing, it was, as we have said, well fed with logs, and was kept
+almost continually glowing.
+
+It was one of the cruel sports of the boys, at the noonings and recesses
+of the school, to put coals of fire on the backs of wandering terrapins,
+and to joke at the struggles of the poor creatures to get to their homes
+in the ponds.
+
+Abraham Lincoln from a boy had a tender heart, a horror of cruelty and
+of everything that would cause any creature pain. He was merciful to
+every one but the unmerciful, and charitable to every one but the
+uncharitable, and kind to everyone but the unkind. But his nature made
+war at once on any one who sought to injure another, and he was
+especially severe on any one who was so mean and cowardly as to
+disregard the natural rights of a dumb animal or reptile. He had in this
+respect the sensitiveness of a Burns. All great natures, as biography
+everywhere attests, have fine instincts--this chivalrous sympathy for
+the brute creation.
+
+Lincoln's nature was that of a champion for the right. He was a born
+knight, and, strangely enough, his first battles in life were in defense
+of the turtles or terrapins. He was a boy of powerful strength, and he
+used it roughly to maintain his cause. He is said to have once exclaimed
+that the turtles were his brothers.
+
+The early days of spring in the old forests are full of life. The Sun
+seems to be calling forth his children. The ponds become margined with
+green, and new creatures everywhere stir the earth and the waters. Life
+and matter become, as it were, a new creation, and one can believe
+anything when he sees how many forms life and matter can assume under
+the mellowing rays of the sun. The clod becomes a flower; the egg a
+reptile, fish, or bird. The cunning woodchuck, that looks out of his
+hole on the awakening earth and blue sky, seems almost to have a sense
+of the miracle that has been wrought. The boy who throws a stone at him,
+to drive him back into the earth, seems less sensible of nature than he.
+It is a pleasing sight to see the little creature, as he stands on his
+haunches, wondering, and the brain of a young Webster would naturally
+seek to let such a groundling have all his right of birth.
+
+One day, when the blue spring skies were beginning to glow, Abraham went
+out to play with his companions. It was one of his favorite amusements
+to declaim from a stump. He would sometimes in this way recite long
+selections from the school Reader and Speaker.
+
+He had written a composition at school on the defense of the rights of
+dumb animals, and there was one piece in the school Reader in which he
+must have found a sympathetic chord, and which was probably one of those
+that he loved to recite. It was written by the sad poet Cowper, and
+began thus:
+
+    "I would not enter on my list of friends
+    (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
+    Yet wanting sensibility) the man
+    Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
+    An inadvertent step may crush the snail,
+    That crawls at evening in the public path;
+    But he that has humanity, forewarned,
+    Will tread aside, and let the reptile live."
+
+As Abraham and his companions were playing in the warm sun, one said:
+
+"Make a speech for us, Abe. Hip, hurrah! You've only to nibble a pen to
+make poetry, and only to mount a stump to be a speaker. Now, Abe, speak
+for the cause of the people, or anybody's cause. Give it to us strong,
+and we will do the cheering."
+
+Abraham mounted a stump in the school-grounds, on which he had often
+declaimed before. He felt something stirring within him, half-fledged
+wings of his soul, that waited a cause. He would imitate the few
+preachers and speakers that he had heard--even an old Kentucky preacher
+named Elkins, whom his own mother had loved, and whose teachings the
+good woman had followed in her short and melancholy life.
+
+He began his speech, throwing up his long arms, and lifting at proper
+periods his coon-skin cap. The scholars cheered as he waxed earnest. In
+the midst of the speech a turtle came creeping into the grounds.
+
+"Hello!" said one of the boys, "here's another turtle come to school!
+He, too, has seen the need of learning."
+
+The terrapin crawled along awkwardly toward the house, his head
+protruding from his shell, and his tail moving to and fro.
+
+At this point young Abraham grew loud and dramatic. The boys raised a
+shout, and the girls waved their hoods.
+
+In the midst of the enthusiasm, one of the boys seized the turtle by the
+tail and slung it around his head, as an evidence of his delight at the
+ardor of the speaker.
+
+"Throw it at him," said one of the scholars. "Johnson once threw a
+turtle at him, when he was preachin' to his sister, and it set him to
+runnin' on like a minister."
+
+Abraham was accustomed to preach to the young members of his family. He
+would do the preaching, and his sister the weeping; and he sometimes
+became so much affected by his own discourses that he would weep with
+her, and they would have a very "moving service," as such a scene was
+called.
+
+The boy swung the turtle over his head again, and at last let go of it
+in the air, so as to project it toward Abraham.
+
+The poor reptile fell crushed at the foot of the stump and writhed in
+pain.
+
+Abraham ceased to speak. He looked down on the pitiful sight of
+suffering, and his heart yearned over the helpless creature, and then
+his brain became fired, and his eyes flashed with rage.
+
+"Who did that?" he exclaimed. "Brute! coward! wretch!" He looked down
+again, and saw the reptile trying to move away with its broken shell.
+His anger turned to pity. He began to expostulate against all such
+heartlessness to the animal world as the scene exhibited before him. The
+poor turtle again tried to move away, his head just protruding, looking
+for some way out of the world that would deny him his right to the
+sunshine and the streams. The young orator saw it all; his lip curled
+bitterly, and his words burned. He awakened such a sympathy for the
+reptile, and such a feeling of resentment against the hand which had
+ruined this little life, that the offender shrank away from the scene,
+calling out defiantly:
+
+"Come away, and let him talk. He's only chicken-hearted."
+
+The scholars knew that there was no cowardice in the heart of Lincoln.
+They felt the force of the scene. The boys and girls of Andrew
+Crawford's school never forgot the pleas that Abraham used to make for
+the animals and reptiles of the woods and streams.
+
+Nearly every youth exhibits his leading trait or characteristic in his
+school-days.
+
+"The tenor of our whole lives," said an English poet, "is what we make
+it in the first five years after we become our masters"; and a wiser
+than he has said, "The thing that has been is, and God requireth the
+past." Columbus on the quays of Genoa; Zinzendorf forming among his
+little companions the order of the "Grain of Mustard-Seed"; the poets
+who "lisped in numbers"; the boy statesmanship of Cromwell; and the
+early aspiration of nearly every great leader of mankind--all showed the
+current of the life-stream, and it is the current alone that knows and
+prophesies the future. When Abraham Lincoln fell, the world uncovered
+its head. Thrones were sorrowful, and humanity wept. Yet his earliest
+rostrum was a stump, and his cause the natural rights of the voiceless
+inhabitants of the woods and streams. The heart that throbbed for
+humanity, and that won the heart of the world, found its first utterance
+in defense of the principles of the birds'-nest commandment. It was a
+beginning of self-education worthy of the thought of a Pestalozzi. It
+was a prophecy.
+
+As the young advocate of the rights and feelings of the dumb creation
+was ending his fiery discourse, the buttonless Tunker, himself a
+disciple of Pestalozzi, came into the school-grounds and read the
+meaning of the scene. Jasper saw the soul of things, and turned always
+from the outward expressions of life to the inward motive. He read the
+true character of the boy in buckskin breeches, human heart, and fluent
+tongue. He sat down on the log step of the school-house in silence, and
+Mr. Crawford presently came out with a quill pen behind his ear, and sat
+down beside him.
+
+"That boy has been teaching what you and I ought first to teach," said
+Jasper.
+
+"What is that?" asked Mr. Crawford.
+
+"The heart! What is head-learning worth, if the heart is left
+uneducated? As Pestalozzi used to say, The soul is the true end of all
+education. Religion itself is a failure, without right character."
+
+"But you wouldn't teach morals as a science, would you?"
+
+"I would train the heart to feel, and the soul to love to be just and do
+right, and make obedience to the moral sense the habit of life. This
+can best be done at the school age, and I tell you that this is the
+highest education. A boy who can spell all the words in the
+spelling-book, and bound all the countries in the world, and repeat all
+the dates of history, and yet who could have the heart to crush a
+turtle, has not been properly educated."
+
+"Then your view is that the end of education is to make a young person
+do right?"
+
+"No, my good friend, pardon me if I speak plain. The end of education is
+not to _make_ young people do right, but to train the young heart to
+love to do right; to make right doing the nature and habit of life."
+
+"How would you begin?"
+
+"As that boy has begun. He has made every heart on the ground feel for
+that broken-shelled turtle. That boy will one day become a leader among
+men. He has a heart. The head may make friends, but only the heart can
+hold them. It is the heart-power that serves and rules. The best thing
+that can be said of any one is, 'He is true-hearted.' I like that boy.
+He is true-hearted. His first client a turtle, it may not be his last.
+Train him well. He will honor you some day."
+
+The boys took the turtle to the pond and left him on the bank. Jasper
+watched them. He then turned to the backwoods teacher, and said:
+
+"That, sir, is the result of right education. First teach character;
+second, life; third, books. Let education begin in the heart, and
+everybody made to feel that right makes might."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.--HER QUEER STORIES.
+
+
+Aunt Olive Eastman had made herself a relative to every one living
+between the two Pigeon Creeks. She had formed this large acquaintance
+with the pioneers by attending the camp-meetings of the Methodists and
+the four-days' meetings of the Baptists in southern Indiana, and the
+school-house meetings everywhere. She was a widow, was full of rude
+energy and benevolence, had a sharp tongue, a kindly heart, and a
+measure of good sense. But she was "far from perfect," as she used to
+very humbly acknowledge in the many pioneer meetings that she attended.
+
+"I make mistakes sometimes," she used to say, "and it is because I am a
+fallible creatur'."
+
+She was an always busy woman, and the text of her life was "Work," and
+her practice was in harmony with her teaching.
+
+"Work, work, my friends and brethren," she once said in the log
+school-house meeting. "Work while the day is passin'. We's all children
+of the clay. To-day we're here smart as pepper-grass, and to-morrer
+we're gone like the cucumbers of the ground. Up, and be doin'--up, and
+be doin'!"
+
+One morning Jasper the Tunker appeared in the clearing before her
+cabin. She stood in the door as he appeared, shading her eyes with one
+hand and holding a birch broom in the other. The sunset was flooding the
+swollen creek in the distance, and shimmering in the tops of the ancient
+trees. Jasper turned to the door.
+
+"This is a lovely morning," said he. "The heavens are blue above us. I
+hope that you are well."
+
+"The top of the morning to you! You are a stranger that I met the other
+day, I suppose. I've been hopin' you'd come along and see me. Where do
+you hail from, anyway? Come in and tell me all about it."
+
+"I am a German," said Jasper, entering. "I came from Germany to
+Pennsylvania, and went from there to Ohio, and now I am here, as you
+see."
+
+"How far are you goin'? Or are you just goin' to stop with us here?
+Southern Injiany is a goodly country. 'Tis all land around here, for
+_millions_ of miles, and free as the air. Perhaps you'll stop with us."
+
+"I am going to Rock Island, on the Mississippi River, across the prairie
+of the Illinois."
+
+"Who are you now, may it please you? What's your callin'? Tell me all
+about it, now. I want to know."
+
+"I am one of the Brethren, as I said. I preach and teach and cobble. I
+came here now to ask you if you had any shoe-making for me to do."
+
+"One of the Tunkers--a Tunker, one o' them. Don't belong to no sect, nor
+nothin', but just preaches to everybody as though everybody was alike,
+and wanders about everywhere, as if you owned the whole world, like the
+air. I've seen several Tunkers in my day. They are becomin' thick in
+these woods. Well, I believe such as you mean well--let's be charitable;
+we haven't long to live in this troublesome world. I'm fryin' doughnuts;
+am just waitin' for the fat to heat. Hope you didn't think that I was
+wastin' time, standin' there at the door? I'll give you some doughnuts
+as soon as the fat is hot--fresh ones and good ones, too. I make good
+doughnuts, just such as Martha used to make in Jerusalem. I've fried
+doughnuts for a hundred ministers in my day, and they all say that my
+doughnuts are good, whatever they may think of me. Come in. I'm proper
+glad to see ye."
+
+Jasper sat down in the kitchen of the cabin. The room was large, and had
+a delightful atmosphere of order and neatness. Over the fire swung an
+immense iron crane, and on the crane were pot-hooks of various sizes,
+and on one of these hung a kettle of bubbling fat.
+
+The table was spread with a large dish of dough, a board called a
+kneading-board, a rolling-pin, and a large sheet of dough which had been
+rolled into its present form by the rolling-pin, which utensil was white
+with flour.
+
+"I knew you were comin'," said Aunt Olive. "I dropped my rollin'-pin
+this mornin'; it's a sure sign. You said that you are goin' to Rock
+Island. The Injuns live there, don't they? What are ye goin' there for?"
+
+"Black Hawk has invited me. He has promised to let me have an Indian
+guide, or runner, who can speak English and interpret. I'm going to
+teach among the tribes, the Lord willing, and I want a guide and an
+interpreter."
+
+"Black Hawk? He was born down in Kaskaskia, the old Jesuit town, 'way
+back almost a century ago, wasn't he? Or was it in the Sac village? He
+was a Pottawattomie, I'm told, and then I've heard he wasn't. Now he's
+chief of the Sacs and Foxes. I saw him once at a camp-meetin'. His face
+is black as that pot and these hooks and trummels. How he did skeer me!
+Do you dare to trust him? Like enough he'll kill ye, some day. I don't
+trust no Injuns. Where did you stay last night?"
+
+"At Mr. Lincoln's."
+
+"Tom Linken's. Pretty poor accommodations you must have had. They're
+awful poor folks. Mrs. Linken is a nice woman, but Tom he is shiftless,
+and he's bringin' up that great tall boy Abe to be lazy, too. That boy
+is good to his mother, but he all runs to books and larnin', just as
+some turnips all run to tops. You've seen 'em so, haven't ye?"
+
+"But the boy has got character, and character is everything in this
+world."
+
+"Did you notice anything _peculiarsome_ about him? His cousin, Dennis
+Hanks, says there's something peculiarsome about him. I never did."
+
+"My good woman, do you believe in gifts?"
+
+"No, I believe in works. I believe in people whose two fists are full of
+works. Mine are, like the Marthas of old."
+
+Aunt Olive rolled up her sleeves, and began to cut the thin layer of
+dough with a knife into long strips, which she twisted.
+
+"I'm goin' to make some twisted doughnuts," she said, "seein' you're a
+preacher and a teacher."
+
+"I think that young lad Lincoln has some inborn gift, and that he will
+become a leader among men. It is he who is willing to serve that rules,
+and they who deny themselves the most receive the most from Heaven and
+men. He has sympathetic wisdom. I can see it. There is something
+peculiar about him. He is true."
+
+"Oh, don't you talk that way. He's lazy, and he hain't got any
+calculation, 'n' he'll never amount to shucks, nor nothin'. He's like
+his father, his head in the air. Somethin' don't come of nothin' in this
+world; corn don't grow unless you plant it; and when you add nothin' to
+nothin' it just makes nothin'.
+
+"Well, preacher, you've told me who you are, and now I'll tell ye who I
+am. But first, let me say, I'll have a pair of shoes. I have my own
+last. I'll get it for you, and then you can be peggin' away, so as not
+to lose any time. It is wicked to waste time. 'Work' is my motto. That's
+what time is made for."
+
+Aunt Olive got her last. The fat was hot by this time--"all sizzlin',"
+as she said.
+
+"There, preacher, this is the last, and there is the board on which my
+husband used to sew shoes, wax and all. Now I will go to fryin' my
+doughnuts, and you and I can be workin' away at the same time, and I'll
+tell ye who I am. Work away--work away!
+
+"I'm a widder. You married? A widower? Well, that ain't nothin' to me.
+Work away--work away!
+
+"I came from old Hingham, near Boston. You've heard of Boston? That was
+before I was married. Our family came to Ohio first, then we heard that
+there was better land in Injiany, and we moved on down the Ohio River
+and came here. There was only one other family in these parts at that
+time. That was folks by the name of Eastman. They had a likely smart
+boy by the name of Polk--Polk Eastman. He grew up and became lonesome. I
+grew up and became lonesome, and so we concluded that we'd make a home
+together--here it is--and try to cheer each other. Listenin', be ye?
+Yes? Well, my doughnuts are fryin' splendid. Work away--work away!
+
+"A curious time we had of it when we went to get married. There was a
+minister named Penney, who preached in a log church up in Kentuck, and
+we started one spring mornin', something like this, to get him to marry
+us. We had but one horse for the journey. I rode on a kind of a second
+saddle behind Polk, and we started off as happy as prairie plovers. A
+blue sky was over the timber, and the bushes were all alive with birds,
+and there were little flowers runnin' everywhere among the new grass and
+the moss. It seemed as though all the world was for us, and that the
+Lord was good. I've seen lots of trouble since then. My heart has grown
+heavy with sorrow. It was then as light as air. Work away!
+
+"Well, the minister Penney lived across the Kentuck, and when we came to
+the river opposite his place the water was so deep that we couldn't ford
+it. There had been spring freshets. It was an evenin' in April. There
+was a large moon, and the weather was mild and beautiful. We could see
+the pine-knots burnin' in Parson Penney's cabin, so that we knew that he
+was there, but didn't see him.
+
+"'What are we to do now?' Polk said he. 'We'll have to go home again,'
+banterin'-like."
+
+"'Holler,' said I. 'Blow the horn!' We had taken a horn along with us.
+He gave a piercin' blast, and I shouted out, 'Elder Penney! Elder
+Penney!'
+
+"The door of the cabin over the river opened, and the elder came out and
+stood there, mysterious-like, in the light of the fire.
+
+"'Who be ye?' he called. 'Hallo! What is wanted?'
+
+"'We're comin' to be married!' shouted Polk. 'Comin' to be
+married--_married_! How shall we get across the river?'
+
+"'The ford's too deep. Can't be done. Who be ye?' shouted the elder.
+
+"'I'm Polk Eastman--Polk Eastman!' shouted Polk.
+
+"'I'm Olive Pratt--Olive Pratt--Olive!' shouted I.
+
+"'Well, you just stay where you be, and I'll marry you there.'
+
+"So he began shouting at the top of his voice:
+
+"'Do you, Olive Pratt, take that there man, over there on the horse, to
+be your husband? Hey?'
+
+"I shouted back, 'Yes, sir!'
+
+"'Do you, Polk Eastman, take that there woman, over there on the horse,
+to be your wife?'
+
+"Polk shouted back, 'Yes, elder, that is what I came for!'
+
+"'Then,' shouted the minister, 'join your right hands.'
+
+"Polk put up his hand over his shoulder, and I took it; and the horse,
+seein' his advantage, went to nibblin' young sprouts. The elder then
+shouted:
+
+"'I pronounce you husband and wife. You can go home now, and I'll make a
+record of it, and my wife shall witness it. Good luck to you! Let us
+pray.'
+
+[Illustration: AUNT OLIVE'S WEDDING.]
+
+"Polk hitched up the reins and the horse stood still. How solemn it
+seemed! The woods were still and shady. You could hear the water rushing
+in the timber. The full moon hung in the clear sky over the river, and
+seemed to lay on the water like a sparkling boat. I was happy then. On
+our journey home we were chased by a bear. I don't think that the bear
+would have hurt us, but the scent of him frightened the horse and made
+him run like a deer.
+
+"Well, we portaged a stream at midnight, just as the moon was going
+down. We made our curtilage here, and here we lived happy until husband
+died of a fever. I'm a middlin' good woman. I go to all the meetin's
+round, and wake 'em up. I've got a powerful tongue, and there isn't a
+lazy bone in my whole body. Work away--work away! That's the way to get
+along in the world. Peg away!"
+
+While Aunt Olive had been relating this odd story, John Hanks, a cousin
+of the Lincolns, had come quietly to the door, and entered and sat down
+beside the Tunker. He had come to Indiana from Kentucky when Abraham was
+fourteen years of age, and he made his home with the Lincolns for four
+years, when he went to Illinois, and was enthused by the wonders of
+prairie farming. It was Uncle John who gave to Abraham Lincoln the name
+of rail-splitter. He loved the boy Lincoln, and led his heart away to
+the rich prairies of Illinois a few years after the present scenes.
+
+"He and I," he once said of Abraham, "worked barefooted, grubbed,
+plowed, mowed, and cradled together. When we returned from the field, he
+would snatch a piece of corn-bread, sit down on a chair, with his feet
+elevated, and read. He read constantly."
+
+This man had heard Aunt Olive--Indiana, or "Injiany," he called
+her--relate her marriage experiences many times. He was not interested
+in the old story, but he took a keen delight in observing the curiosity
+and surprise that such a novel tale awakened in the mind of the Tunker.
+
+"This is very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very extraordinary. We
+do not have in Germany any stories like that. I hardly know what my
+people would say to such a story as that. This is a very extraordinary
+country--very extraordinary."
+
+"I can tell you a wedding story worth two o' that," said Uncle John
+Hanks. "Why, that ain't nowhere to it.--Now, Aunt Injiany, you wait, and
+set still. I'm goin' to tell the elder about the 'TWO TURKEY-CALLS.'"
+
+The Tunker only said, "This is all very extraordinary." Uncle John
+crossed his legs and bent forward his long whiskers, stretched out one
+arm, and was about to begin, when Aunt Olive said:
+
+"You wait, John Hanks--you wait. I'm goin' to tell the elder that there
+story myself."
+
+John Hanks never disputed with Aunt Olive.
+
+"Well, tell it," said he, and the backwoods woman began:
+
+"'Tis a master-place to get married out here. There's a great many more
+men than women in the timber, and the men get lonesome-like, and no man
+is a whole man without a wife. Men ought not to live alone anywhere.
+They can not out here. Well, well, the timber is full of wild turkeys,
+especially in the fall of the year, but they are hard to shoot. The best
+way to get a shot at a turkey is by a turkey-call. You never heard one,
+did you? You are not to blame for bein' ignorant. It is like this--"
+
+Aunt Indiana put her hands to her mouth like a shell, and blew a low,
+mysterious whistle.
+
+"Well, there came a young settler from Kentucky and took up a claim on
+Pigeon Creek; and there came a widow from Ohio and took a claim about
+three miles this side of him, and neither had seen the other. Well,
+well, one shiny autumn mornin' each of them took in to their heads to go
+out turkey-huntin', and curiously enough each started along the creek
+toward each other. The girl's name was Nancy, and the man's name was
+Albert. Nancy started down the creek, and Albert up the creek, and each
+had a right good rifle.
+
+"Nancy stood still as soon as she found a hollow place in the timber,
+put up her hand--_so_--and made a turkey-call--_so_--and listened.
+
+"Albert heard the call in the hollow timber, though he was almost a mile
+away, and he put up his hands--_so_--and answered--_so_.
+
+"'A turkey,' said Nancy, said she. 'I wish I had a turkey to cook.'
+
+"'A turkey,' said Albert, said he. 'I wish I had some one at home to
+cook a turkey.'
+
+"Then each stole along slowly toward the other, through the hollow
+timber.
+
+"It was just a lovely mornin'. Jays were callin', and nuts were fallin',
+and the trees were all yellow and red, and the air put life into you,
+and made you feel as though you would live forever.
+
+"Well, they both of them stopped again, Nancy and Albert. Nancy she
+called--_so_--and Albert--_so_.
+
+"'A turkey, sure,' said Nancy.
+
+"'A turkey, sure,' said Albert.
+
+"Then each went forward a little, and stopped and called again.
+
+"They were so near each other now that each began to hide behind the
+thicket, so that neither might scare the turkey.
+
+"Well, each was scootin' along with head bowed--_so_--gun in
+hand--_so_--one wishin' for a husband and one for a wife, and each for a
+good fat turkey, when what should each hear but a voice in a tree! It
+was a very solemn voice, and it said:
+
+"'Quit!'
+
+"Each thought there was a scared turkey somewhere, and each became more
+stealthy and cautious, and there was a long silence.
+
+"At last Nancy she called again--_so_--and Albert he answered
+her--_so_--and each thought there was a turkey within shootin' distance,
+and each crept along a little nearer each other.
+
+"At last Nancy saw the bushes stir a few rods in front of her, and
+raised her gun into position, still hiding in the tangle. Albert
+discovered a movement in front of him, and he took the same position.
+
+"Nancy was sure she could see something dark before her, and that it
+must be the turkey in the tangle. She put her finger on the lock of the
+gun, when a voice in the air said:
+
+"'Quit!'
+
+"'It's a turkey in the tops of the timber,' thought she, 'and he is
+watchin' me, and warnin' the other turkey.'
+
+"Albert, too, was preparin' to shoot in the tangle when the command
+from the tree-top came. Each thought it would be well to reconnoiter a
+little, so as to get a better shot.
+
+"Nancy kneeled down on the moss among the red-berry bushes, and peeked
+cautiously through an openin' in the tangle. What was that?
+
+"A hat? Yes, it was a hat!
+
+"Albert he peeked through another openin', and his heart sunk like a
+stone within him. What was that? A bonnet? Yes, it was a bonnet!
+
+"Was ever such a thing as that seen before in the timber? Bears had been
+seen, and catamounts, and prairie wolves, but a bonnet! He drew back his
+gun. Just then there came another command from the tree-top:
+
+"'Quit!'
+
+"Now, would you believe it? Well, two guns were discharged at that
+turkey in the tree, and it came tumblin' down, a twenty-pounder, dead as
+a stone.
+
+"Nancy run toward it. Albert run towards it.
+
+"'It's yourn,' said Nancy.
+
+"'It's yourn,' said Albert.
+
+"Each looked at the other.
+
+"Nancy looked real pink and pretty, and Albert he looked real noble and
+handsome-like.
+
+"'I'm thinkin',' said Albert, 'it kind o' belongs to both of us.'
+
+"'So I think, too,' said Nancy, said she. 'Come over to my cabin and
+I'll cook it for ye. I'm an honest girl, I am.'
+
+"The two went along as chipper as two squirrels. The creek looked really
+pretty to 'em, and the prairie was all a-glitter with frost, and the
+sky was all pleasant-like, and you know the rest. There, now. They're
+livin' there yet. Just like poetry--wasn't it, now?"
+
+"Very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very! I never read a novel like
+that. Very extraordinary!"
+
+A tall, lank, wiry boy came up to the door.
+
+"Abe, I do declare!" said Aunt Olive. "Come in. I'm makin' doughnuts,
+and you sha'n't have one of them. I make Scriptur' doughnuts, and the
+Scriptur' says if a man spends his time porin' over books, of which
+there is no end, neither shall he eat, or somethin' like that--now don't
+it, elder?--But seein' it's you, Abe, and you are a pretty good boy,
+after all, when people are in trouble, and sick and such, I'll make you
+an elephant. There ain't any elephants in Injiany."
+
+Aunt Olive cut a piece of doughnut dough in the shape of a picture-book
+elephant and tossed it into the fat. It swelled up to enormous
+proportions, and when she scooped it out with a ladle it was, for a
+doughnut, an elephant indeed.
+
+"Now, Abe, there's your elephant.--And, elder, here's a whole pan full
+of twisted doughnuts. You said that you were goin' to meet Black Hawk.
+Where does he live? Tell us all about him."
+
+"I will do so, my good woman," said Jasper. "I want you to be interested
+in my Indian missions. When I come this way again, I shall be likely to
+bring with me an Indian guide, an uncommon boy, I am told. You shall
+hear my story."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+JASPER GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO BLACK HAWK.--AUNT INDIANA'S WIG.
+
+
+Aunt Indiana, Jasper, John Hanks, and young Abraham Lincoln sat between
+the dying logs in the great fireplace and the open door. The company was
+after a little time increased for Thomas Lincoln came slowly into the
+clearing, and saying, "How-dy?" and "The top of the day to ye all," sat
+down in the sunshine on the log step; and soon after came Dennis Hanks
+and dropped down on a puncheon.
+
+"I think that you are misled," said Jasper, "when you say that Black
+Hawk was born at Kaskaskia. If I remember rightly, he said to me: 'I was
+born in this Sac village. Here I spent my youth; my fathers' graves are
+here, and the graves of my children, and here where I was born I wish to
+die.' Rock Island, as the northern islands, rapids, and bluffs of the
+Mississippi are called, is a very beautiful place. Black Hawk clings to
+the spot as to his life. 'I love to look down,' he said, 'upon the big
+rivers, shady groves, and green prairies from the graves of my fathers,'
+and I do not wonder at this feeling. His blood is the same and his
+rights are the same as any other king, and he loves Nature and has a
+heart.
+
+"It is my calling to teach and preach among the Indians and new towns
+of Illinois. This call came to me in Pennsylvania. God willed it, and I
+had no will but to obey. I heard the Voice within, just as I heard it in
+Germany on the Rhine. _There_ it said, 'Go to America.' In Pennsylvania
+it said, 'Go to the Illinois.'
+
+"I went. I have walked all the way, teaching and preaching in the log
+school-houses. I sowed the good seed, and left the harvest to the
+heavens. Why should I be anxious in regard to the result? I walk by
+faith, and I know what the result will be in God's good time, without
+seeking for it. Why should I stop to number the people? I know.
+
+"I wanted an Indian guide and interpreter, and the inward Voice told me
+to go to Black Hawk and secure one from the chief himself. So I went to
+the bluffs of the Mississippi, and told Black Hawk all my heart, and he
+let me preach in his lodges, and I made some strong winter shoes for
+him, and tried to teach the children by signs. So I was fed by the
+ravens of the air. He had no interpreter or runner such as he would
+trust to go with me; but he told me if I would return in the May moon,
+he would provide me one. He said that it would be a boy by the name of
+Waubeno, whose father was a noble warrior and had had a strange and
+mysterious history. The boy was then traveling with an old uncle by the
+name of Main-Pogue. These names sound strange to German ears: Waubeno
+and Main-Pogue! I promised to return in May. I am on my way.
+
+"If I get the boy Waubeno--and the Voice within tells me that I will--I
+intend to travel a circuit, round and round, round and round, teaching
+and preaching. I can see my circuit now in my mind. This is the map of
+it: From Rock Island to Fort Dearborn (Chicago); from Fort Dearborn to
+the Ohio, which will bring me here again; and from the Ohio to the
+Mississippi, and back to Rock Island, and so round and round, round and
+round. Do you see?"
+
+The homely travels of Thomas Lincoln and the limited geography of Andrew
+Crawford had not prepared Jasper's audience to see even this small
+circuit very distinctly. Thomas Lincoln, like the dwellers in the
+Scandinavian valleys, doubtless believed that there "are people beyond
+the mountains, _also_" but he knew little of the world outside of
+Kentucky and Illinois. Mrs. Eastman was quite intelligent in regard to
+New England and the Middle States, but the West to her mind was simply
+land--"oceans of it," as she expressed herself--"where every one was at
+liberty to choose without infringin' upon anybody."
+
+"Don't you ever stop to build up churches?" said Mrs. Eastman to Jasper.
+
+"No."
+
+"You just baptize 'em, and let 'em run. That's what I can't understand.
+I can't get at it. What are you really doin'? Now, say?"
+
+"I am the Voice in the wilderness, preparing the way."
+
+"No family name?"
+
+"No. What have I to do with a name?"
+
+"No money?"
+
+"Only what I earn."
+
+"That's queerer yet. Well, you are just the man to preach to the
+uninhabited places of the earth. Tell us more about Black Hawk. I want
+to hear of him, although we all are wastin' a pile of time when we all
+ought to be to work. Tell us about Black Hawk, and then we'll all up and
+be doin'. My fire is goin' out now."
+
+"He's a revengeful critter, that Black Hawk," said Thomas Lincoln, "and
+you had better be pretty wary of him. You don't know Indians. He's a
+flint full of fire, so people say that come to the smithy. You look
+out."
+
+"He has had his wrongs," said Jasper, "and he has been led by his animal
+nature to try to avenge them. Had he listened to the higher teachings of
+the soul, it might have been different. We should teach him."
+
+"What was it that set him against white folks?" asked Mrs. Eastman.
+
+"He told me the whole story," said Jasper, "and it made my heart bleed
+for him. He's a child of Nature, and has a great soul, but it needs a
+teacher. The Indians need teachers. I am sent to teach in the
+wilderness, and to be fed by the birds of the air. I am sent from over
+the sea. But listen to the tale of Black Hawk. You complain of your
+wrongs, don't you? Why should not he?
+
+"Years ago Black Hawk had an old friend whom he dearly loved, for the
+friendships of Indians are ardent and noble. That friend had a boy, and
+Black Hawk loved this boy and adopted him as his own, and became as a
+father to him, and taught him to hunt and to go to war. When Black Hawk
+joined the British he wished to take this boy with him to Canada; but
+his own father said that he needed him to care for him in his old age,
+to fish and to hunt for him. He said, moreover, that he did not like
+his boy to fight against the Americans, who had always treated him
+kindly. So Black Hawk left the boy with his old father.
+
+"On his return to Rock River and the bluffs of the Mississippi, after
+the war on the lakes, and as he was approaching his own town in the
+sunset, he chanced to notice a column of white smoke curling from a
+hollow in one of the bluffs. He stepped aside to see what was there. As
+he looked over the bluff he saw a fire, and an aged Indian sitting alone
+on a prayer-mat before it, as though humbling himself before the Great
+Spirit. He went down to the place and found that the man was his old
+friend.
+
+"'How came you here?' asked Black Hawk. But, although the old Indian's
+lip moved, he received no answer.
+
+"'What has happened?' asked Black Hawk.
+
+"There was a pitiful look in the old man's eyes, but this was his only
+reply. The old Indian seemed scarcely alive. Black Hawk brought some
+water to him. It revived him. His consciousness and memory seemed to
+return. He looked up. With staring eyes he said, suddenly:
+
+"'Thou art Black Hawk! O Black Hawk, Black Hawk, my old friend, he is
+gone!'
+
+"'Who has gone?'
+
+"'The life of my heart is gone, he whom you used to love. Gone, like a
+maple-leaf. Gone! Listen, O Black Hawk, listen.
+
+"'After you went away to fight for the British, I came down the river at
+the request of the pale-faces to winter there. When I arrived I found
+that the white people had built a fort there. I went to the fort with
+my son to tell the people that we were friendly."
+
+"'The white war-chief received me kindly, and told us that we might hunt
+on this side of the Mississippi, and that he would protect us. So we
+made our camp there. We lived happy, and we loved to talk of you, O
+Black Hawk!
+
+"'We were there two moons, when my boy went to hunt one day,
+unsuspicious of any danger. We thought the white man spoke true. Night
+came, and he did not return. I could not sleep that night. In the
+morning I sent out the old woman to the near lodges to give an alarm,
+and say that my boy must be sought.
+
+"'There was a band formed to hunt for him. Snow was on the ground, and
+they found his tracks--my boy's tracks. They followed them, and saw that
+he had been pursuing a deer to the river. They came upon the deer, which
+he had killed and left hanging on the branch of a tree. It was as he had
+left it.
+
+"'But here they found the tracks of the white man. The pale-faces had
+been there, and had taken our boy prisoner. They followed the tracks and
+they found him. O Black Hawk! he was dead--my boy! The white men had
+murdered him for killing the deer near the fort; and the land was ours.
+His face was all shot to pieces. His body was stabbed through and
+through, and they had torn the hair from his head. They had tied his
+hands behind him before they murdered him. Black Hawk, my heart is dead.
+What do the hawks in the sky say?'
+
+"The old Indian fell into a stupor, from which he soon expired. Black
+Hawk watched over his body during the night, and the next day he buried
+it upon the bluff. It was at that grave that Black Hawk listened to the
+hawks in the sky, and vowed vengeance against the white people forever,
+and summoned his warriors for slaughter."
+
+"He's a hard Indian," said Thomas Lincoln. "Don't you trust Black Hawk.
+You don't know him."
+
+"Hard? Yes, but did not your brother Mordecai make the same vow and
+follow the same course after the murder of your father by the Indians? A
+slayer of man is a slayer of man whoever and wherever he may be. May the
+gospel bring the day when the shedding of human blood will cease! But
+the times are still evil. The world waits still for the manifestation of
+the sons of God; as of old it waits. I have given all I am to the
+teaching of the gospel of peace. The Indians need it; you need it, all
+of you. You do the same things that the savages do."
+
+"Just hear him!" said Aunt Indiana.--"Who are you preachin' to, elder?
+Callin' us savages! I'm an exhorter myself, I'd like to have you know. I
+could exhort _you_. Savages? We know Indians here better than you do.
+You wait."
+
+"Let me tell you a story now," said Thomas Lincoln.
+
+"Of course you will," said Aunt Indiana. "Thomas Lincoln never heard a
+story told without telling another one to match it; and Abe, here, is
+just like him. The thing that has been, is, as the Scriptur' says."
+
+
+_AN ASTONISHED INDIAN._
+
+"Well," said Thomas Lincoln, "I hain't no faith at all, elder, in
+Injuns. I once knew of a woman in Kentuck, in my father's day, who knew
+enough for 'em, and the way that she cleared 'em out showed an amazin'
+amount of spirit. Women was women in Daniel Boone's time, in old
+Kentuck. The Injuns found 'em up and doin', and they learned to sidle
+away pretty rapid-like when they met a sun-bonnet.
+
+"Well, as I was sayin', this was in my father's time. The Injuns were
+prowlin' about pretty plenty then, and one day one of 'em came, all
+feathers and paint, and whoops and prancin's, to a house owned by a Mr.
+Daviess, and found that the man of the house was gone.
+
+"But the wimmin-folks were at home--Mrs. Daviess and the children. Well,
+the Injun came on like a champion, swingin' his tommyhawk and liftin'
+his heels high. The only weapon that the good woman had was a bottle of
+whisky.
+
+"Well, whisky is a good weapon sometimes--there's many a man that has
+found it a slow gunpowder. Well, this woman, as I was sayin', had her
+wits about her. What do you think that she did?
+
+"Well, she just brought out the whisky-bottle, and held it up before
+him--_so_. It made his eyes sparkle, you may be sure of that!
+
+"'Fire-water,' said she, 'mighty temptin'.
+
+"'Ugh!' said the Indian, all humps and antics and eyes.
+
+"Ugh! Did you ever hear an Injun say that--'Ugh?'
+
+"'Have some?' said she.
+
+"Have some? Of course he did.
+
+"She got a glass and put it on the table, and then she uncorked the
+bottle and _handed_ it to him to pour out the whisky. He lost his wits
+at once.
+
+"He set down his gun to pour out a dram, all giddy, when Mrs. Daviess
+seized the shooter and lifted it up quick as a flash and pointed to his
+head.
+
+"'Set that down, or I'll fire! Set that bottle down!'
+
+"The poor Injun's jaw dropped. He set down the bottle, looked wild, and
+begged for his life.
+
+"'Set still,' said she; and he looked at the whisky-bottle and then
+slunk all up in a heap and remained silent as a dead man until Mr.
+Daviess came home, when he was allowed to crawl away into the forest. He
+gave one parting look at the bottle, but he never wanted to see a white
+woman again, I'll be bound."
+
+"You ridicule the Indian for his love of whisky," said the Tunker, "but
+who taught him to love it? Woe unto the world because of offenses."
+
+"Hello!" said John Hanks, starting up. "Here comes Johnnie Kongapod
+again, from the Illinois. I like to see any one from Illinois, even if
+he is an Indian. I'm goin' there myself some day. I've a great opinion
+of that there prairie country--hain't you, elder?"
+
+"Yes, it is a garden of wild flowers that seems as wide as the sky. It
+can all be turned into green, and it will be some day."
+
+Aunt Indiana greeted the Indian civilly, and the Tunker held out his
+hand to him.
+
+"Elder," said Aunt Indiana, "I must tell you one of my own experiences,
+now that Johnnie Kongapod has come--the one that they bantered me about
+over to the smithy. Johnnie and I are old friends. I used to be a kind
+of travelin' preacher myself; I am now--I go to camp-meetin's, and I
+always do my duty.
+
+"Well, a few years ago, durin' the Injun troubles, there was goin' to be
+a camp-meetin' on the Illinois side, and I wanted to go. Now, Johnnie
+Kongapod is a good Injun, and I arranged with him that he should go with
+me.
+
+"You didn't know that I wore a wig, did ye, elder? No? Well, most people
+don't. I have had to wear a wig ever since I had the scarlet fever, when
+I was a girl. I'm kind o' ashamed to tell of it, I've so much nateral
+pride, but have to speak of it when I tell this story.
+
+"Johnnie Kongapod never saw a wig before I showed him mine, and I never
+showed it to him until I had to.
+
+"Well, he came over from Illinois, and we started off together to the
+camp-meetin'. It was a lovely time on the prairies. The grass was all
+ripe and wavin', and the creeks were all alive with ducks, and there
+were prairie chickens everywhere. I felt very brisk and chipper.
+
+"We had two smart horses, and we cantered along. I sang hymns, and sort
+o' preached to Johnnie, when all at once we saw a shadow on the prairie
+like a cloud, and who should come ridin' up but three Injuns! I was
+terribly frightened. I could see that they were hostile Injuns--Sacs,
+from Black Hawk. One of them swung his tommyhawk in the air, and made
+signs that he was goin' to scalp me. Johnnie began to beg for me, and I
+thought that my last hour had come.
+
+"The Injun wheeled his pony, rode away, then turned and came dashin'
+towards me, with tommyhawk lifted.
+
+"'Me scalp!' said he, as he dashed by me. Then he turned his horse and
+came plungin' towards me again.
+
+"Elder, what do you think I did? I snatched off my bonnet and threw it
+upon the ground. Then I grabbed my wig, held it up in the air, and when
+the Injun came rushin' by I held it out to him.
+
+"'There it is,' said I.
+
+"Well--would you believe it?--that Injun gave one glance at it, and put
+spurs to his horse, and he never stopped runnin' till he was out of
+sight. The two other Injuns took one look at my wig as I held it out in
+my hand.
+
+"'Scalped herself!' said one.
+
+"'Took her head off!' said the other. 'She conjur's!'
+
+"They spurred their horses and flew over the prairie like the wind.
+And--and--must I say it?--Johnnie Kongapod--he ran too; and so I put on
+my wig, picked up my sun-bonnet, and turned and came home again.
+
+"There are some doughnuts, Johnnie Kongapod, if you did desert me.
+
+"Elder, this is a strange country. And don't you believe any stories
+about honest Injuns that the law condemns, and that go home to see their
+families overnight and return again; you will travel a long way, elder,
+before you find any people of that kind, Injuns or white folks. I know.
+I haven't lived fifty years in this troublesome world for nothin'.
+People who live up in the air, as you do, elder, have to come down. I'm
+sorry. You mean well!"
+
+Johnnie Kongapod arose, lifted his brown arm silently, and, bending his
+earnest face on Jasper, said:
+
+"_That_ story is true. You will know. Time tells the truth. Wait!"
+
+"Return in the morning to be shot!" said Aunt Olive. "Injuns don't do
+that way here. When I started for Injiany I was told of a mother-in-law
+who was so good that all her daughters' husbands asked her to come and
+live with them. They said she moved to Injiany. Now, I have traveled
+about this State to all the camp-meetin's, and I never found her
+anywhere. Stands to reason that no such story as that is true. You'll
+have to travel a long way, elder, before you find any people of that
+kind in these parts."
+
+Whom was Jasper to believe--the confident Indian or the pioneers?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL.
+
+
+Examination-day is an important time in country schools, and it excited
+more interest seventy years ago than now. Andrew Crawford was always
+ambitious that this day should do credit to his faithful work, and his
+pupils caught his inspiration.
+
+There were great preparations for the examination at Crawford's this
+spring. The appearance of the German school-master in the place who
+could read Latin was an event. Years after, when the pure gold of fame
+was no longer a glimmering vision or a current of fate, but a wonderful
+fact, Abraham Lincoln wrote of such visits as Jasper's in the settlement
+a curious sentence in an odd hand in an autobiography, which we
+reproduce here:
+
+[Illustration: If a straggler ^{supposed to understand latin?} happened
+to sojourn in the neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizzard--]
+
+With such a "wizard" as Jasper in the settlement, who would certainly
+attend the examination, it is no wonder that this special event excited
+the greatest interest in all the cabins between the two Pigeon Creeks of
+southern Indiana.
+
+"May we decorate the school-house?" asked a girl of Mr. Crawford, before
+the appointed day. "May we decorate the school-house out of the woods?"
+
+"I am chiefly desirous that you should decorate your minds out of the
+spelling-book," said Mr. Crawford; "but it is a commendable thing to
+have an eye to beauty, and to desire to present a good appearance. Yes,
+you may decorate the house out of the woods."
+
+The timber was green in places with a vine called creeping Jenney, and
+laurels whose leaves were almost as green and waxy as those of the
+Southern magnolia. The creeping Jenney could be entwined with the
+laurel-leaves in such a way as to form long festoons. The boys and girls
+spent the mornings and recesses for several days in gathering Jenney,
+and in twining the vines with the laurel and making decorative festoons.
+
+They hung these festoons about the wooden walls of the low building and
+over the door. Out of the tufts of boxberry leaves and plums they made
+the word "Welcome," which they hung over the door. They covered the rude
+chimney with pine-boughs, and in so doing filled the room with a
+resinous odor. They also covered the roof with boughs of evergreen.
+
+The spelling-book was not neglected in the preparations of the eventful
+week. There was to be a spelling-match on the day, and, although it was
+already felt that Abraham Lincoln would easily win, there was hard study
+on the part of all.
+
+One afternoon, after school, in the midst of these heroic preparations,
+a party of the scholars were passing along the path in the timber. A
+dispute arose between two boys in regard to the spelling of a word.
+
+"I spelled it just as Crawford did," said one.
+
+"No, you didn't. Crawford spelled it with a _i_."
+
+"He spelled it with a _y_, and that is just the way I spelled it."
+
+"He didn't, now, I know! I heard Crawford spell it himself."
+
+"He did!"
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that I lie?"
+
+"You do--it don't need telling."
+
+"I won't be called a liar by anybody. I'll make you ache for that!"
+
+"We'll see about that. You may ache yourself before this thing is
+settled. I've got fists as well as you, and I will not take such words
+as that from anybody. Come on!"
+
+The two backwoods knights rushed toward each other with a wounded sense
+of honor in their hearts and with uplifted arms.
+
+Suddenly a form like a giant passed between them. It took one boy under
+one of its arms and the other under the other, and strode down the
+timber.
+
+"He called me a liar," said one of the boys. "I won't stand that from
+any _man_."
+
+"He _sassed_ me," said the other, "and I won't stand any sassin', not
+while my fists are alive."
+
+"_You_ wouldn't be called a liar," said the first.
+
+"Nor take any sassin'," said the second.
+
+The tall form in blue-jean shirt and leather breeches strode on, with
+the two boys under its arms.
+
+"I beg!" at last said one of the boys.
+
+"I beg!" said the other.
+
+"Then I'll let you go, and we'll all be friends again!"
+
+"Yes, Abraham, I'll give in, if he will."
+
+"I will. Let me go."
+
+The tall form dropped the two boys, and soon all was peace in the
+April-like air.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln will never allow any quarrels in our school," said
+another boy. "Where he is there has to be peace. It wouldn't be fair for
+him to use his strength so, only he's always right; and when strength is
+right it is all for the best."
+
+The boy had a rather clear perception of the true principles of human
+government. A will to do right and the power to enforce it, make nations
+great as well as character powerful.
+
+The eventful day came, with blue-birds in the glimmering timber, and a
+blue sky over all. People came from a distance to attend the
+examination, and were surprised to find the school-house changed into a
+green bower.
+
+[Illustration: ABRAHAM AS A PEACE-MAKER.]
+
+The afternoon session had been assigned to receiving company, and the
+pupils awaited the guests with trembling expectation. It was a warm day,
+and the oiled paper that served for panes of glass in the windows had
+been pushed aside to admit the air and make an outlook, and the door had
+been left open. The first to arrive was Jasper. The school saw him
+coming; but he looked so kindly, benevolent, and patriarchal, that the
+boys and girls did not stand greatly in awe of him. They seemed to feel
+instinctively that he was their friend and was with them. But a
+different feeling came over them when 'Squire Gentry, of Gentryville,
+came cantering on a horse that looked like a war-charger. 'Squire Gentry
+was a great man in those parts, and filled a continental space in their
+young minds. The faces of all the scholars were turned silently and
+deferently to their books when the 'Squire banged with his whip-handle
+on the door. Aunt Olive was next seen coming down the timber. She was
+dressed in a manner to cause solicitude and trepidation. She wore knit
+mits, had a lofty poke bonnet, and a "checkered" gown gay enough for a
+valance, and, although it was yet very early spring, she carried a
+parasol over her head. There was deep interest in the books as her form
+also darkened the festooned door.
+
+Then the pupils breathed freer. But only for a moment. Sarah Lincoln,
+Abraham's sister, looked out of the window, and beheld a sight which she
+was not slow to communicate.
+
+"Abe," she whispered, "look there!"
+
+"Blue-nose Crawford," whispered the tall boy, "as I live!"
+
+In a few moments the school was all eyes and mouths. Blue-nose Crawford
+bore the reputation of being a very hard taskmaster, and of holding to
+the view that severe discipline was one of the virtues that wisdom ought
+to visit upon the youth. He once lent to Abraham Lincoln Weems's "Life
+of Washington." The boy read it with absorbing interest, but there came
+a driving storm, and the rain ran in the night through the walls of the
+log-cabin and wet and warped the cover of the book. Blue-nose Crawford
+charged young Lincoln seventy-five cents for the damage done to the
+book. "Abe," as he was called, worked three days, at twenty-five cents a
+day, pulling fodder, to pay the fine. He said, long after this hard
+incident, that he did his work well, and that, although his feelings
+were injured, he did not leave so much as a strip of fodder in the
+field.
+
+"The class in reading may take their places," said Andrew Crawford.
+
+It was a tall class, and it was provided with leather-covered English
+Readers. One of the best readers in the class was a Miss Roby, a girl of
+some fifteen years of age, whom young Lincoln greatly liked, and whom he
+had once helped at a spelling match, by putting his finger on his eye
+(_i_) when she had spelled _defied_ with a _y_. This girl read a
+selection with real pathos.
+
+"That gal reads well," said Blue-nose Crawford, or Josiah Crawford, as
+he should be called. "She ought to keep school. We're goin' to need
+teachers in Indiana. People are comin' fast."
+
+Miss Roby colored. She had indeed won a triumph of which every pupil of
+Spencer County might be proud.
+
+"Now, Nathaniel, let's hear you read. You're a strappin' feller, and you
+ought not to be outread by a gal."
+
+Nathaniel raised his book so as to hide his face, like one near-sighted.
+He spread his legs apart, and stood like a drum-major awaiting a word of
+command.
+
+"You may read Section V in poetry," said Mr. Crawford, the teacher.
+"Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk. Speak up loud, and
+mind your pauses."
+
+He did.
+
+"I am monarch of all I survey," he began, in a tone of vocal thunder.
+Then he made a pause, a very long one. Josiah Crawford turned around in
+great surprise; and Aunt Olive planted the chair in which she had been
+sitting at a different angle, so that she could scrutinize the reader.
+
+The monarch of all he surveyed, which in the case of the boy was only
+one page of the English Reader, was diligently spelling out the next
+line, which he proceeded to pronounce like one long word with surprising
+velocity:
+
+"My-right-there-is-none-to-dispute."
+
+There was another pause.
+
+"Hold down your book," said the master.
+
+"Yes, hold down your book," said Josiah Crawford. "What do ye cover yer
+face for? There's nuthin' to be ashamed of. Now try again."
+
+Nathaniel lowered the book and revealed the singular struggle that was
+going on in his mind. He had to spell out the words to himself, and in
+doing so his face was full of the most distressing grimaces. He
+unconsciously lifted his eyebrows, squinted his eyes, and drew his mouth
+hither and thither.
+
+    "From the cen-t-e-r, center; center, all round _to_ the sea,
+      I am lord of the f-o-w-l _and_-the-brute."
+
+The last line came to a sudden conclusion, and was followed by a very
+long pause.
+
+"Go on," said Andrew Crawford, the master.
+
+"Yes, go on," said Josiah. "At the rate you're goin' now you won't get
+through by candle-light."
+
+Nathaniel lifted his eyebrows and uttered a curiously exciting--
+
+"O"--
+
+"That boy'll have a fit," said Aunt Olive. "Don't let him read any more,
+for massy sake!"
+
+"O--What's that word, master? S-o-l-i-t-u-d-e, so-li-tu-de.
+O--So-li-tu-de."
+
+"O Solitude, where are the charms?" read Mr. Andrew Crawford,
+
+      "That sages have seen in thy face?
+    Better dwell in the midst of alarms
+      Than reign in this horrible place."
+
+Nathaniel followed the master like a race-horse. He went on smoothly
+until he came to "this horrible place," when his face assumed a startled
+expression, like one who had met with an apparition. He began to spell
+out _horrible_, "h-o-r-, hor--there's your hor, _hor_; r-i-b-, there's
+your _rib_, horrib--"
+
+"Don't let that boy read any more," said Aunt Olive.
+
+Nathaniel dropped his book by his side, and cast a far-away glance into
+the timber.
+
+"I guess I ain't much of a reader," he remarked, dryly.
+
+"Stop, sir!" said the master.
+
+Poor Nathaniel! Once, in attempting to read a Bible story, he read, "And
+he smote the Hittite that he died"--"And he smote him Hi-ti-ti-ty, that
+he _did_" with great emphasis and brief self-congratulation.
+
+In wonderful contrast to Nathaniel's efforts was the reading in concert
+by the whole class. Here was shown fine preparation for a forest school.
+The reading of verses, in which "sound corresponded to the
+signification," was smoothly, musically, and admirably done, and we give
+some of these curious exercises here:
+
+
+_Felling trees in a wood._
+
+    Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes;
+    On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks
+    Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets brown,
+    Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.
+
+
+_Sounds of a bow-string._
+
+                                The string let fly
+    Twanged short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry.
+
+
+_The pheasant._
+
+    See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
+    And mounts exulting on triumphant wings.
+
+
+_Scylla and Charybdis._
+
+    Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,
+    And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms.
+    When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,
+    The rough rock roars; tumultuous boil the waves.
+
+
+_Boisterous and gentle sounds._
+
+    Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,
+    The roaring winds' tempestuous rage restrain:
+    Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide,
+    And ships secure without their hawsers ride.
+
+
+_Laborious and impetuous motion._
+
+    With many a weary step, and many a groan,
+    Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone:
+    The huge round stone resulting with a bound,
+    Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.
+
+
+_Regular and slow movement._
+
+    First march the heavy mules securely slow;
+    O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks they go.
+
+
+_Motion slow and difficult._
+
+    A needless Alexandrine ends the song,
+    That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
+
+
+_A rock torn from the brow of a mountain._
+
+    Still gath'ring force, it smokes, and urged amain,
+    Whirls, leaps, and thunders down impetuous to the plain.
+
+
+_Extent and violence of the waves._
+
+    The waves behind impel the waves before,
+    Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore.
+
+
+_Pensive numbers._
+
+    In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
+    Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells,
+    And ever-musing melancholy reigns.
+
+
+_Battle._
+
+            Arms on armor clashing brayed
+    Horrible discord; and the madding wheels
+    Of brazen fury raged.
+
+
+_Sound imitating reluctance._
+
+    For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
+      This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned;
+    Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
+      Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind?
+
+A spelling exercise followed, in which the pupils spelled for places, or
+for the head. Abraham Lincoln stood at the head of the class. He was
+regarded as the best speller in Spencer County. He is noted to have soon
+exhausted all that the three teachers whom he found there could teach
+him. Once, in after years, when he was asked how he came to know so
+much, he answered, "By a willingness to learn of every one who could
+teach me anything."
+
+"Abraham," said Master Crawford, "you have maintained your place at the
+head of the class during the winter. You may take your place now at the
+foot of the class, and try again."
+
+The spelling for turns, or for the head, followed the method of the old
+Webster's "Speller," that was once so popular in country schools:
+
+    ail, to be in trouble.
+    ale, malt liquor.
+    air, the atmosphere.
+    _h_eir, one who inherits.
+    all, the whole.
+    awl, an instrument.
+    al-tar, a place for offerings.
+    al-ter, to change.
+    ant, a little insect.
+    a_u_nt, a sister to a parent.
+    ark, a vessel.
+    arc, part of a circle.
+
+All went correctly and smoothly, to the delight and satisfaction of
+Josiah Crawford and Aunt Olive, until the word _drachm_ was reached,
+when all the class failed except Abraham Lincoln, who easily passed up
+to the head again.
+
+The writing-books, or copy-books, were next shown to the visitors. The
+writing had been done on puncheon-desks with home made ink. Abraham
+Lincoln's copy-book showed the same characteristic hand that signed the
+Emancipation Proclamation. In one corner of a certain page he had
+written an odd bit of verse in which one may read a common experience in
+the struggles of life after what is better and higher. Emerson said, "A
+high aim is curative." Poor backwoods Abe seemed to have the same
+impression, but he did not write it down in an Emersonian way, but in
+this odd rhyme:
+
+    "Abraham Lincoln,
+      His hand and pen,
+    He will be good,
+      But God knows when."
+
+The exercises ended with a grand dialogue translated from Fénelon
+between Dionysius, Pythias, and Damon, in which fidelity in friendship
+was commended. After this, each of the visitors, Aunt Olive included,
+was asked to make a "few remarks." Aunt Olive's remarks were "few," but
+to the point:
+
+"Children, you have read well, and spelled well, and are good
+arithme_tickers_, but you ain't sot still. There!"
+
+Josiah Crawford thought the progress of the school had been excellent,
+but that more of the rod had been needed.
+
+(Where had all the green bushes gone in the clearing, but to purposes of
+discipline?)
+
+Then good Brother Jasper was asked to speak. The "wizard" who could
+speak Latin arose. The pupils could see his great heart under his face.
+It shone through. His fine German culture did not lead him away from the
+solid merits of the forest school.
+
+"There are purposes in life that we can not see," he began, "but the
+secret comes to those who listen to the beating of the human heart, and
+at the doors of heaven. Spirits whisper, as it were. The soul, a great
+right intention, is here; and there is a conscience here which is power;
+and here, for aught we can say, may be some young Servius Tullius of
+this wide republic."
+
+Servius Tullius? Would any one but he have dreamed that the citizens of
+Rome would one day delight to honor an ungainly pupil of that forest
+school?
+
+One day there came to Washington a present to the Liberator of the
+American Republic. It looked as follows, and bore the following
+inscription:
+
+[Illustration: "To Abraham Lincoln, President, for the second time, of
+the American Republic, citizens of Rome present this stone, from the
+wall of Servius Tullius, by which the memory of each of those brave
+assertors of liberty may be associated. Anno 1865."]
+
+It is said that the modest President shrank from receiving such a
+compliment as that. It was too much. He hid away the stone in a
+storeroom of the capital, in the basement of the White House. It now
+constitutes a part of his monument, being one of the most impressive
+relics in the Memorial Hall of that structure. It is twenty-four hundred
+years old, and it traveled across the world to the prairies of Illinois,
+a tribute from the first advocate of the rights of the people to the
+latest defender of all that is sacred to the human soul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE PARABLE PREACHES IN THE WILDERNESS.
+
+
+The house in which young Abraham Lincoln attended church was simple and
+curious, as were the old forest Baptist preachers who conducted the
+services there. It was called simply the "meeting-house." It stood in
+the timber, whose columns and aisles opened around it like a vast
+cathedral, where the rocks were altars and the birds were choirs. It was
+built of rude logs, and had hard benches, but the plain people had done
+more skillful work on this forest sanctuary than on the school-house.
+The log meeting-house stood near the log school-house, and both revealed
+the heart of the people who built them. It was the Prussian
+school-master, trained in the moral education of Pestalozzi, that made
+the German army victorious over France in the late war. And it was the
+New England school-master that built the great West, and made Plymouth
+Rock the crown-stone of our own nation. The world owes to humble
+Pestalozzi what it never could have secured from a Napoleon. It is right
+ideas that march to the conquest, that lift mankind, and live.
+
+It had been announced in the school-house that Jasper the Parable would
+preach in the log church on Sunday. The school-master called the
+wandering teacher "Jasper the Parable," but the visitor became commonly
+known as the "Old Tunker" in the community. The news flew for miles that
+"an old Tunker" was to preach. No event had awakened a greater interest
+since Elder Elkins, from Kentucky, had come to the settlement to preach
+Nancy Lincoln's funeral sermon under the great trees. On that occasion
+all the people gathered from the forest homes of the vast region. Every
+one now was eager to visit the same place in the beautiful spring
+weather, and to "hear what the old Tunker would have to say."
+
+Among the preachers who used to speak in the log meeting-house and in
+Thomas Lincoln's cabin were one Jeremiah Cash, and John Richardson, and
+young Lamar. The two latter preachers lived some ten miles distant from
+the church; but ten miles was not regarded as a long Sabbath-day journey
+in those days in Indiana. When the log meeting-house was found too small
+to hold the people, such preachers would exhort under the trees. There
+used to be held religious meetings in the cabins, after the manner of
+the present English cottage prayer-meetings. These used to be appointed
+to take place at "early candle-lighting," and many of the women who
+attended used to bring tallow dips with them, and were looked upon as
+the "wise virgins" who took oil in their lamps.
+
+It was a lovely Sunday in April. The warm sunlight filled the air and
+bird-songs the trees. The notes of the lark, the sparrow, and the
+prairie plover were bells--
+
+    "To call me to duty, while birds in the air
+    Sang anthems of praise as I went forth to prayer,"
+
+as one of the old hymns used to run. The buds on the trees were
+swelling. There was an odor of walnut and "sassafrax" in the tides of
+the sunny air. Cowslips and violets margined the streams, and the sky
+over all was serene and blue, and bright with the promise of the summer
+days.
+
+The people began to gather about the meeting-house at an early hour. The
+women came first, in corn-field bonnets which were scoop-shaped and
+flaring in front, and that ran out like horns behind. On these
+funnel-shaped, cornucopia-like head-gears there might now and then be
+seen the vanity of a ribbon. The girls carried their shoes in their
+hands until they came in sight of the meeting-house, when they would sit
+down on some mossy plat under an old tree, "bein' careful of the
+snakes," and put them on. All wore linsey-woolsey dresses, of which four
+or five yards of cloth were an ample pattern for a single garment, as
+they had no use for any superfluous polonaises in those times.
+
+Long before the time for the service the log meeting-house was full of
+women, and the yard full of men and horses. Some of the people had come
+from twenty miles away. Those who came from the longest distances were
+the first to arrive--as is usual, for in all matters in life promptness
+is proportioned to exertion.
+
+When the Parable came, Thomas Lincoln met him.
+
+"You can't preach here," said he. "Half the people couldn't hear you.
+You have a small voice. You don't holler and pound like the rest of 'em,
+I take it. Suppose you preach out under the trees, where all the people
+can hear ye. It looks mighty pleasant there. With our old sing-song
+preachers it don't make so much difference. We could hear one of them
+if you were to shut him up in jail. But with you it is different. You
+have been brought up different among those big churches over there. What
+do you say, preacher?"
+
+"I would rather preach under the trees. I love the trees. They are the
+meeting-house of God."
+
+"Say, preacher, would you mind goin' over and preachin' at Nancy's
+grave? Elder Elkins preached there, and the other travelin' ministers.
+Seems kind o' holy over there. Nancy was a good woman, and all the
+people liked her. She was Abraham's mother. The trees around her grave
+are beautiful."
+
+"I would like to preach there, by that lonely grave in the wilderness."
+
+"The Tunker will preach at Nancy's grave," said Thomas Lincoln in a loud
+voice. He led the way to the great cathedral of giant trees, which were
+clouded with swelling buds and old moss, and a long procession of people
+followed him there.
+
+Among them was Aunt Olive, with a corn-field bonnet of immense
+proportions, and her hymn-book. She was a lively worshiper. At all the
+meetings she sang, and at the Methodist meetings she shouted; and after
+all religious occasions she "tarried behind," to discuss the sermon with
+the minister. She usually led the singing. Her favorite hymns were, "Am
+I a soldier of the Cross," "Come, thou Fount of every blessing," and "My
+Bible leads to glory." The last hymn and tune suited her emotional
+nature, and she would pitch it upon a high key, and make the woods ring
+with the curious musical exhortation of the chorus:
+
+      "Sing on, pray on,
+    Ye followers of Emmanuel."
+
+At the early candle-meetings at Thomas Lincoln's cabin and other cabins,
+she sang hymns of a more persuasive character. These were oddly
+appropriate to the hard-working, weary, yet hopeful community. One of
+these began thus:
+
+    "Come, my brethren, let us try,
+      For a little season,
+    Every burden to lay by--
+      Come, and let us reason.
+    What is this that casts you down?
+      What is this that grieves you?
+    Speak, and let the worst be known--
+      Speaking may _relieve_ you."
+
+The music was weird and in a minor key. It was sung often with a
+peculiar motion of the body, a forward-and-backward movement, with
+clasped hands and closed eyes. Another of the pioneer hymns began:
+
+    "Brethren, we have met for worship,
+      And to adore the Lord our God:
+    Will you pray with all your power,
+      While we wait upon the Lord?
+    All is vain unless the Spirit
+      Of the Holy One comes down;
+    Brethren, pray, and heavenly manna
+      Will be showered all around.
+
+    "Sisters, will you join and help us?
+      Moses' sister help-ed him," etc.
+
+The full glory of a spring day in Indiana shone over the vast forests,
+as the Tunker rose to speak under the great trees. It was like an
+Easter, and, indeed, the hymn sung at the opening of the service was
+much like an Easter hymn. It related how--
+
+    "On this lovely morning my Saviour was rising,
+    The chains of mortality fully despising;
+    His sufferings are over, he's done agonizing--
+    This morning my Saviour will think upon _me_."
+
+The individuality of the last line seemed especially comforting to many
+of the toiling people, and caused Aunt Olive to uplift her voice in a
+great shout.
+
+"Come with me," said Jasper; "come with me this morning, and we will
+walk beside the Sea of Galilee together. Galilee! I love to think of
+Galilee--far, far away. The words spoken on the shores of Galilee, and
+on the mountains over-looking Galilee, are the hope of the world. They
+are the final words of our all-loving Father to his children. Times may
+change, but these words will never be exceeded or superseded; nothing
+can ever go beyond these teachings of the brotherhood of man, and the
+way that the heart may find God, and become conscious of the presence of
+God, and know its immortality, and the everlasting truth. What did the
+great Teacher say on Galilee?"
+
+The Parable began to repeat from memory the Sermon on the Mount and the
+Galilean teachings. The birds came and sang in the trees during the long
+recitations, and the people sank down on the grass. Once or twice Aunt
+Olive's corn-field bonnet rose up, and out of it came a shout of
+"Glory!" One enthusiastic brother shouted, at one point of the
+quotations: "That's right, elder; pitch into 'em, and give it 'em--they
+need it. We're all sinners here; a good field to improve upon! Go on!"
+
+It was past high noon when Jasper finished his quotations from the
+Gospels. He then paused, and said:
+
+"Do you want to know who I am, and why I am here, and what has sent me
+forth among the speckled birds of the forest? I will tell you. A true
+life has no secrets--it needs none; it is open to all like the
+revelations of the skies, and the sea, and the heart of Nature--what is
+concealed in the heart is what should not be.
+
+"I had a teacher. He is living now--an old, broken man--a name that will
+sound strange to your ears. He gave up his life to teach the orphans
+made by the war. He studied with them, learned with them, ate with them;
+he saw with their eyes and felt with their hearts. He taught after the
+school of Nature; as Nature teaches the child within, so he taught,
+using outward objects.
+
+"He once said to me:
+
+"'For thirty years my life has been a struggle against poverty. For
+thirty years I have had to forego many of the barest necessities of
+life, and have had to shun the society of my fellow-men for want of
+decent clothes. Many and many times I have gone without a dinner, and
+eaten in bitterness a dry crust of bread on the road, at a time when
+even the poorest were seated around a table. All this I have suffered,
+and am suffering still to-day, and with no other object than to realize
+my plan for helping the poor.'
+
+"When I heard him say that, I loved him. It made me ashamed of my
+selfish life. Then I heard the Dunkards preach, and tell of America over
+the sea. I began to study the words of the Teacher of Galilee. I, too,
+longed to teach. My wife died, and my two children. Then I said: 'I
+will live for the soul. That is all that has any lasting worth. I will
+give up everything for the good of others, and go over the sea, and
+teach the children of the forest.' I am now on my way to see Black Hawk,
+who has promised to send out with me an interpreter and guide. I have
+given up my will, my property, and my name, and I am happy. Good-by, my
+friends. I have nothing, and am happy."
+
+At this point Aunt Olive's corn-field bonnet rose up, and her voice rang
+out on the air:
+
+    "My brother, I wish you well!
+    My brother, I wish you well!
+    When my Lord calls, I hope I shall
+    Be _mentioned_ in the promised land.
+
+    "My sister, I wish you well!" etc.
+
+    "Poor sinners, I wish you well!" etc.
+
+Galilee! There was one merry, fun-making boy in that sacred place, to
+whom, according to tradition, that word had a charm. He used to love to
+mimic the old backwoods preachers, and he became very skeptical in
+matters of Christian faith and doctrine, but he never forgot the
+teachings of the Teacher of Galilee. In the terrible duties that fell to
+his lot the principles of the Galilean teachings came home to his heart,
+and he came to know in experience what he had not accepted from the
+mouths of men. He is said to have said, just before his death, which
+bowed the nation: "When the cares of state are over, I want to go to
+Galilee," or words of like meaning. The legend is so beautiful that we
+could wish it to be true.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES.
+
+
+Jasper heard the local stories at the smithy and at Aunt Indiana's with
+intense interest. To him they furnished a study of the character of the
+people. They were not like stories of beautiful spiritual meaning that
+he had been accustomed to hear at Marienthal, at Weimar, and on the
+Rhine. The tales of Richter, Haupt, Hoffman, and Baron Fouqué could
+never have been created here. These new settlements called for the
+incident or joke that represented a practical fact, and not the
+soul-growth of imagination. The one question of education was, "Can you
+cipher to the rule of three?" and of religion, "Have you found the
+Lord?" The favorite tales were of Indians, bears, and ghosts, and the
+rough hardships that overcome life. Jasper heard these tales with a
+sympathetic heart.
+
+The true German story is a parable, a word with a soul. Jasper loved
+them, for the tales of a people are the heart of a people, and express
+the progress of culture and opinion.
+
+One day, as Jasper was cobbling at Aunt Olive's, he sought to teach her
+a lesson of contentment by a German household story. Johnnie Kongapod
+had come in, and the woman was complaining of her hard and restricted
+life.
+
+"Aunt Indiana," said Jasper, "do you have fairies here?"
+
+"Never have seen any. We don't spin air here in America."
+
+"We have fairies in Germany. All the children there pass through
+fairy-land. There once came a fairy to an old couple who were
+complaining, like you."
+
+"Like me? I'm the contentedest woman in these parts. 'Tis no harm to
+wish for what you haven't got."
+
+"There came a fairy to them, and said:
+
+"'You may have three wishes. Wish.'
+
+"The old couple thought:
+
+"'We must be very wise,' said the woman, 'and not make any mistake,
+since we can only wish three times. I wish I had a pudding.'
+
+"Immediately there came a pudding upon the table. The poor woman was
+greatly surprised.
+
+"'There, you see what you have done by your foolish wishing!' said the
+man.
+
+"'One of our opportunities has gone,' said the woman. 'We have but two
+chances left. We must be _wiser_.'
+
+"They sat and looked into the fire. The fairy had disappeared from the
+hearth, and there were only embers and ashes there.
+
+"The man grew angry that his wife had lost one of their opportunities.
+
+"'Nothin' but a pudding!' said he. 'I wish that that miserable pudding
+were hung to your nose!'
+
+"The pudding leaped from the table and hung at the end of the old
+woman's nose.
+
+"'There!' said she, 'now you see what you have done by your foolish
+wishing.'
+
+"The old man sighed. 'We have but one wish left. We must now be the
+wisest people in all the world.'
+
+"They watched the dying embers, and thought. As they did so, the pudding
+grew heavy at the end of the old woman's nose. At last she could endure
+it no longer.
+
+"'Oh!' she said, 'how I wish that pudding was off again!'
+
+"The pudding disappeared, and the fairy was gone."
+
+"'Tain't true," said Aunt Indiana.
+
+"Yes," said Jasper, "what is true to life is true. Stories are the
+alphabet of life."
+
+Johnnie Kongapod had listened to the tale with delight. Aunt Indiana
+knew that no fairy would ever appear on her hearth, but Johnnie was not
+so sure.
+
+"I've seen 'em," said he.
+
+"You--what? What have you seen? I'd like to know," said Aunt Indiana.
+
+"Fairies--"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"When I've been asleep."
+
+"There never was any fairies in my dreams," said Aunt Indiana.
+
+No, there were not. The German Tunker and the prairie Indian might see
+fairies, but the hard-working Yankee pioneer had no faculties for
+creative fancy. Her fairy was the plow that breaks the ground, or the
+axe that fells the timber. Yet the German soul-tale seemed to haunt her,
+and she at last said:
+
+"I wish that we had more such stories as that. It is pleasant talk. Abe
+Lincoln tells such things out of the Pilgrim's Progress. He's all
+imagination, just like you and the Indians. People who don't have much
+to do run to such things. I suppose that he has read that Pilgrim's
+Progress over a dozen times."
+
+"I have observed that the boy had ideals," said Jasper.
+
+"What's them?" said Aunt Indiana.
+
+"People build life out of ideals," said Jasper. "A cathedral is an ideal
+before it is a form. So is a house, a glass--everything. He has the
+creative imagination."
+
+"Yes--that's what I said: always going around with a book in his hand,
+as though he was walking on the air."
+
+"His step-mother says that he's one of the best of boys. He does
+everything that he can for her, and he has never given her an unkind
+word. He loves his step-mother like an own mother, and he forgets
+himself for others. These are good signs."
+
+"Signs--signs! Stop your cobblin', elder, and let me prophesy! That boy
+just takes after his father, and he will never amount to anything in
+this world or any other. His mother what is dead was a good woman--an
+awful good woman; but she was sort o' visionary. They say that she used
+to see things at camp-meetin's, and lose her strength, and have far-away
+visions. She might have seen fairies. But she was an awful good
+woman--good to everybody, and everybody loved her; and we were all sorry
+when she died, and we all love her grave yet. It is queer, but we all
+seem to love her grave. A sermon goes better when it is preached there
+under the great trees. Some folks had rather hear a sermon preached
+there than at the meetin'-house. Some people leave a kind o' influence;
+_Miss_ Linken did. The boy means well--his heart is all right, like his
+poor dead mother's was--but he hasn't got any head on 'im, like as I
+have. He hasn't got any calculation. And now, elder, I'm goin' to say
+it, though I'm sorry to: he'll never amount to shucks! There, now!
+Josiah Crawford says so, too."
+
+"There is one very strong point about Abraham," said Jasper. "He has a
+keen sense of what is right, and he is always governed by it. He has
+faith that right is might. Didn't you ever notice it?"
+
+"Yes, I'll do him justice. I never knew him to do a thing that he
+thought wrong--never. He couldn't. He takes after his mother's folks,
+and they say that there is Quaker blood in the Linkens."
+
+"But, my good woman, a fool would be wise if he always did right,
+wouldn't he? There is no higher wisdom than to always do right. And a
+boy that has a heart to feel for every one, and a conscience that is
+true to a sense of right, and that loves learning more than anything
+else, and studies continually, is likely to find a place in the world.
+
+"Now, I am going to prophesy. This country is going to need men to lead
+them, and Abraham Lincoln will one day become a leader among men. He
+leads now. His heart leads; his mind leads. I can see it. The world here
+is going to need men of knowledge, and it will select the man of the
+most learning who has the most heart, the most sympathy with the people.
+It will select him. I have a spiritual eye, and I can see."
+
+"A leader of the people--Abe Lincoln! You have said it now. I would as
+soon think of Johnnie Kongapod! A leader of the people! Are you daft?
+When the prairies leap into corn-fields and the settlements into banks
+of gold, and men can travel a mile a minute, and clodhoppers become
+merchants and Congressers, and as rich as Spanish grandees, then Abraham
+Lincoln may become a leader of the people, but not till then! No, elder,
+you are no Samuel, that has come down here among the sons of Jesse to
+find a shepherd-boy for a king. You ain't no Samuel, and he ain't no
+shepherd-boy. He all runs to books and legs, and I tell you he ain't got
+no calculation. Now, I've prophesied and you've prophesied."
+
+"Time tells the truth about all things," said Jasper. "We shall meet, if
+I make my circuits, and we will talk of our prophecies in other years,
+should Providence permit. My soul has set its mark on that boy: wait,
+and we will see if the voice within me speaks true. It has always spoken
+true until now."
+
+At the close of this prophetic dialogue the subject of it appeared at
+the door. He was a tall boy, with a dark face, homely, ungainly,
+awkward. He wore a raccoon-skin cap, a linsey-woolsey shirt, and leather
+breeches, and was barefooted, although the weather was yet cool. He did
+not look like one who would ever cause the thrones of the world to lean
+and listen, or who would find in the Emperor of all the Russias the
+heart of a brother.
+
+"Abe," said Aunt Indiana, "the Tunker here has been speakin' well of
+you, though you don't deserve it. He just says as how you are goin' to
+be somebody, and make somethin' in the world. I hope you will, though
+you're a shaky tree to hang hopes on. I ain't got nothin' ag'in ye. He
+says that you'll become a leader among men. What do you think o' that,
+Abe? Don't stand there gawkin'. Come in and sit down."
+
+"It helps one to have some one believe in him," said the tall boy. "One
+tries to fulfill the good prophecies made about him. I wish I was
+good.--Thank ye, elder, for your good opinion. I wonder if I will ever
+make anything? I sometimes think I will. I look over toward mother's
+grave there, and think I will; but you can't tell. Crawford the
+schoolmaster he thinks good of me, but the other Crawford--Josiah--he's
+ag'in me. But if we do right, we'll all come out right."
+
+"Yes, my boy," said Jasper, "have faith that right is might. This is
+what the Voice and the Being within tells me to preach and to teach. Let
+us have faith that right is might, and do our duty, and the Spirit of
+God will give us a new nature, and make us new creatures, and the
+rebirth of the spiritual life into the eternal kingdom."
+
+The prairie winds breathed through the trees. A robin came and sang in
+the timber.
+
+The four sat thoughtful--the Tunker, the Indian, the pioneer woman, and
+the merry, sad-faced boy. It was a commonplace scene in the Indiana
+timber, and that one lonely grave is all that is left to recall such
+scenes to-day--the grave of the pioneer mother.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE INDIAN RUNNER.
+
+
+The young May moon was hanging over the Mississippi on the evening when
+Jasper came to the village of the Sacs and Foxes. This royal town, the
+head residence of the two tribes, and the ancient burying-ground of the
+Indian race, was very beautifully situated at the junction of the Rock
+River with the Mississippi. The Father of Waters, which is in many
+places turbid and uninteresting, here becomes a clear and impetuous
+stream, flowing over beds of rock and gravel, amid high and wooded
+shores. The rapids--the water-ponies of the Indians--here come leaping
+down, surging and foaming, and are checked by monumental islands. The
+land rises from the river in slopes, like terraces, crowned with hills
+and patriarchal trees. From these hills the sight is glorious. On one
+hand rolls the mighty river, and on the other stretch vast prairies,
+flower-carpeted, sun-flooded, a sea of vegetation, the home of the
+prairie plover and countless nesters of the bright, warm air. It is a
+park, whose extent is bounded by hundreds of miles.
+
+Water-swept and beautiful lies Rock Island, where on a parapet of rock
+was built Fort Armstrong in the days of the later Indian troubles.
+
+The royal town and burying-ground was a place of remarkable fertility.
+The grape-vine tangled the near woods, the wild honeysuckle perfumed the
+air, and wild plums blossomed white in May and purpled with fruit in
+summer. If ever an Indian race loved a town, it was this. The Indian
+mind is poetic. Nature is the book of poetry to his instinct, and here
+Nature was poetic in all her moods.
+
+The Indians venerated the graves of their ancestors. Here they kept the
+graves beautiful, and often carried food to them and left it for the
+dead.
+
+The chant at these graves was tender, and shows that the human heart
+everywhere is the same. It was like this:
+
+    "Where are you, my father?
+      Oh, where are you now?
+    I'm longing to see thee;
+      I'm wailing for thee.
+                          (Wail.)
+
+    "Are you happy, my father?
+      Are you happy now?
+    I'm longing to see thee;
+      I'm wailing for thee.
+                          (Wail.)
+
+    "Spring comes to the river,
+      But where, then, art thou?
+    I'm longing to see thee;
+      I'm wailing for thee.
+                          (Wail.)
+
+    "The flowers come forever;
+      I'll meet thee again;
+    I'm longing to see thee--
+      Time bears me to thee!"
+                           (Wail.)
+
+As Jasper ascended the high bluffs of the lodge where Black Hawk dwelt,
+he was followed by a number of Indians who came out of their houses of
+poles and bark, and greeted him in a kindly way. The dark chief met him
+at the door of the lodge.
+
+"You are welcome, my father. The new moon has bent her bow over the
+waters, and you have come back. You have kept your promise. I have kept
+mine. There is the boy."
+
+An Indian boy of lithe and graceful form came out of the lodge, followed
+by an old man, who was his uncle. The boy's name was Waubeno, and his
+uncle's was Main-Pogue. The latter had been an Indian runner in Canada,
+and an interpreter to the English there. He spoke English well. The boy
+Waubeno had been his companion in his long journeys, and, now that the
+interpreter was growing old, remained true to him. The three stood
+there, looking down on the long mirror of the Mississippi--Black Hawk,
+Main-Pogue, and Waubeno--and waiting for Jasper to speak.
+
+"I have come to bring you peace," said Jasper--"not the silence of the
+hawk or the bow-string, but peace here."
+
+He laid his hand on his breast, and all the Indians did the same.
+
+"I am a man of peace," continued Jasper. "If any one should seek to slay
+me, I would not do him any harm. I would forgive him, and pray that his
+blindness might go from his soul, and that he might see a better life.
+You welcome me, you are true to me, and, whatever may happen, I will be
+true to your race."
+
+The black chief bowed, Main-Pogue, and the boy Waubeno.
+
+"I believe you," said Black Hawk. "Your face says 'yes' to your words.
+The Indian's heart is always true to a friend. Sit down; eat, smoke the
+peace-pipe, and let us talk. Sit down. The sky is clear, and the
+night-bird cries for joy on her wing. Let us all sit down and talk. The
+river rolls on forever by the graves of the braves of old. Let us sit
+down."
+
+The squaws brought Jasper some cakes and fish, and Black Hawk lighted
+some long pipes and gave them to Main-Pogue and Waubeno.
+
+"I have brought the boy here for you," said Black Hawk. "He comes of the
+blood of the brave. Let me tell you his story. It will shame the
+pale-face, but let me tell you the story. You will say that the Indian
+can be great, like the pale-face, when I tell you his story. It will
+smite your heart. Listen."
+
+A silence followed, during which a few puffs of smoke curled into the
+air from the black chief's pipe. He broke his narrative by such
+silences, designed to be impressive, and to offer an opportunity for
+thought on what had been said.
+
+Strange as it may seem to the reader, the story that follows is
+substantially true, and yet nothing in classic history or modern heroism
+can surpass in moral grandeur the tale that Black Hawk was always proud
+to tell:
+
+"Father, that is the boy. He knows all the ways from the Great Lakes to
+the long river, from the great hills to Kaskaskia. You can trust him; he
+knows the ways. Main-Pogue knows all the ways. Main-Pogue was a runner
+for the pale-face. He has taught him the ways. Their hearts are like one
+heart, Main-Pogue's and Waubeno's.
+
+[Illustration: BLACK HAWK TELLS THE STORY OF WAUBENO.]
+
+"His father is dead, Waubeno's. Main-Pogue has been a father to him.
+They would die for each other. Main-Pogue says that Waubeno may run with
+you, if I say that he may run. I say so. Main-Pogue and Waubeno are true
+to me.
+
+"The boy's father is dead, I said. Who was the father of that
+boy?--Waubeno, stand up."
+
+The boy arose, like a tall shadow. There was a silence, and Black Hawk
+puffed his pipe, then laid it beside his blanket.
+
+"Who was the father of Waubeno? He was a brave, a warrior. He wore the
+gray plume, and honor to him was more than life. He would not lie, and
+they put him to death. He was true as the stars, and they killed him."
+
+There followed another silence.
+
+"Father, you teach. You teach the head; you teach the heart: to live a
+true life, is the thing to teach--the thing you call conscience, soul,
+those are the right things to teach. What are books to the head, if the
+soul is not taught to be true?
+
+"Father, the father of Waubeno could teach the pale-face. In the head?
+No, in the heart? No, in the soul, which is the true book of the Great
+Spirit that you call God. You came to us to teach us God. It is good.
+You are a brother, but God came to us before. He has written the law of
+right in the soul of every man. The right will find the light. You teach
+the way--you bring the Word of him who died for mankind. It is good.
+I've got you a runner to run with you. It is good. You help the right to
+find the light.
+
+"Father, listen. I am about to speak. Before the great war with the
+British brother (1812) that boy's father struck down to the earth a
+pale-face who had done him wrong. The white man died. He who wrongs
+another does not deserve the sun. He died, and his soul went to the
+shadows. The British took the red warrior prisoner for killing this man
+who had wronged him. Waubeno was a little one then, when they took his
+father prisoner.
+
+"The British told the old warrior that they had condemned him to die.
+
+"'I am not afraid to die,' said the warrior. 'Let me go to the
+Ouisconsin (Wisconsin) and see my family once more, and whisper my last
+wish in the ear of my boy, and I will return to you and die. I will
+return at the sunrise.'
+
+"'You would never return,' said the commander of the stockade.
+
+"The warrior strode before him.
+
+"'Can a true man lie?'
+
+"The commander looked into his face, and saw his soul.
+
+"'Well, go,' said he. 'I would like to see an Indian who would come back
+to die.'
+
+"The warrior went home, under the stars. He told his squaw all. He had
+six little children, and he hugged them all. Waubeno was the oldest boy.
+He told him all, and pressed him to his heart. He whispered in his
+ear.--What was it he said, Waubeno?"
+
+The shadowy form of the boy swayed in the dim light, as he answered. He
+said:
+
+"'Avenge my death! Honor my memory. The Great Spirit will teach you
+how.' That is what my father said to me, and I felt the beating of his
+heart."
+
+There was a deep silence. Then Black Hawk said:
+
+"The warrior looked down on the Ouisconsin under the stars. He looked up
+to heaven, and cried, 'Lead thou my boy!' Then he set his face toward
+the stockades of Prairie du Chien.
+
+"He strode across the prairie as the sun was rising; he arrived in time,
+and--Father, listen!"
+
+There was another silence, so deep that one might almost hear the
+puffing smoke as it rose on the air.
+
+"_They shot him!_ That is his boy, Waubeno."
+
+Jasper stood silent; he thought of Johnnie Kongapod's story, and the
+night-scene at Pigeon Creek.
+
+"I shall teach him a better way," said Jasper, at last. "I will lead him
+to honor the memory of his great father in a way that he does not now
+know. The Great Spirit will guide us both. His father was a great man. I
+will lead him to become a greater."
+
+"Father," said the boy, coming forward, "I will always be true to you,
+but I have sworn by the stars."
+
+Jasper stood like one in a dream. Could such a tale as this be true
+among savages? Honor like this only needed the gospel teaching to do
+great deeds. Jasper saw his opportunity, and his love of mankind never
+glowed before as it did then. He folded his hands, closed his eyes, and
+his silent thoughts winged upward to the skies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO.
+
+
+Jasper and Waubeno crossed the prairies to Lake Michigan. It was June,
+the high tide of the year. The long days poured their sunlight over the
+seas of flowers. The prairie winds were cool, and the new vegetation was
+alive with insects and birds.
+
+The first influence that Jasper tried to exert on Waubeno was to induce
+him to forego the fixed resolution to avenge his father's death.
+
+"The first thing in education," he used to say, "is conscience, the
+second is the heart, and the third is the head."
+
+He had planned to teach Waubeno while the Indian boy should be teaching
+him, and he wished to follow his own theory that a new pupil should
+first learn to be governed by his moral sense.
+
+"Waubeno," he said, in their long walk over the prairie, "I wish to
+teach you and make you wise, but before I can do you justice you must
+make a promise. Will you, Waubeno?"
+
+"I will. You would not ask me to do what is wrong."
+
+"It may be a hard thing, but, Waubeno, I wish you to promise me that
+you will never seek to avenge your father. Will you, Waubeno?"
+
+"Parable, I will promise you any right thing but that. I have made
+another promise about that thing--it must hold."
+
+"Waubeno, I can not teach you as I would while you carry malice in your
+heart. The soul does not see clearly that is dark with evil. Do you see?
+I wish it for your good."
+
+"The white man punishes his enemies, does he not? Why should not I
+avenge a wrong? The white fathers at Malden" (the trade-post on Lake
+Erie) "avenge every wrong that is done them by the Indians, do they
+not?"
+
+"Christ died for his enemies. He forgave them, dying. You have heard."
+
+"Then why do his followers not do the same?"
+
+"They do."
+
+"I have never seen one who did."
+
+"Not one?"
+
+"No, not one."
+
+"Then they are false to the cross. Waubeno, I love you. I am seeking
+your good. Trust me. I would make you any promise that I could. Make me
+this promise, and then we will be brothers. Your vow rises between us
+like a cloud."
+
+"Parable, listen. I will promise, on one condition."
+
+"What, Waubeno?"
+
+"You say that right is might, Parable?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"_When I find a single white man who defends an Indian to his own hurt
+because it is right, I will promise._ I have known many white men who
+defended the Indian because they thought that it was good for them to
+do it--good for their pockets, good for their church, good for their
+souls in another world--but never one to his own harm, because it was
+right; listen, Parable--never one to his own harm because it was right.
+When I meet one--such a one--I will promise you what you ask. Parable,
+my folks did right because it was right."
+
+"Waubeno, I once knew a boy who defended a turtle to his own harm,
+because it was right. The boys laughed at him, but his soul was true to
+the turtle."
+
+"I would like to meet that boy," Waubeno said. "He and I would be
+brothers. But I have never seen such a boy, Parable. I have never seen
+any man who had the worth of my own father, and, till I do, I shall hold
+to my vow to him! God heard that vow, and he shall see that I prove true
+to a man who died for the truth!"
+
+The two came in sight of blue Lake Michigan, where the old Jesuit
+explorer had had a vision of a great city; and where Point au Sable, the
+San Domingo negro, for a time settled, hoping to be made an Indian king.
+Here he found the hospitable roofs of John Kinzie, the pioneer of
+Chicago, the Romulus of the great mid-continent city, where storehouses
+abounded with peltries and furs.
+
+John Kinzie (the father of the famous John H. Kinzie) was a grand
+pioneer, like the Pilgrim Fathers of the elder day. He dealt honestly
+with the Indians, and won the hearts of the several tribes. He settled
+in Chicago in 1804, at which time a block-house was built by the
+Government as a frontier house or garrison. This frontier house stood
+near the present Rush Street Bridge. Mr. Kinzie's house stood on the
+north side of the Chicago River, opposite the fort. The storm-beaten
+block-house was to be seen in Chicago as late as 1857, and the place of
+Mr. Kinzie's home will ever be held as sacred ground. The frontier house
+was known as Fort Dearborn. A little settlement grew around the fort and
+the hospitable doors of Mr. Kinzie, until in 1830 it numbered twelve
+houses. Twelve houses in Chicago in 1830! Pass the bridge of sixty
+years, and lo! the rival city of the Western world, with its more than a
+million people--more than fulfilling the old missionary's dream!
+
+For twenty years John Kinzie was the only white man not connected with
+the garrison and trading-post who lived in northern Illinois. He was a
+witness of the Indian massacre of the troops in 1812, when he himself
+was driven from his home by the lake.
+
+He saw another and different scene in August, 1821--a scene worthy of a
+poet or painter--the Great Treaty, in which the Indian chiefs gave up
+most of their empire east of the Mississippi. There came to this
+decisive convocation the plumes of the Ottawas, Chippewas, and
+Pottawattamies. General Cass was there, and the old Indian agents. The
+chiefs brought with them their great warriors, their wives and children.
+There the prairie Indians made their last stand but one against the
+march of emigration to the Mississippi.
+
+Me-te-nay, the young orator of the Pottawattamies, was there, to make a
+poetic appeal for his race. But the counsels of the white chiefs were
+too persuasive and powerful. A treaty was concluded, which virtually
+gave up the Indian empire east of the Mississippi.
+
+Then the chiefs and the warriors departed, their red plumes
+disappearing over the prairie in the sunset light. Before them rolled
+the Mississippi. Behind them lay the blue seas of the lakes. It was a
+sorrowful procession that slowly faded away. Some twelve years after, in
+August, 1835, another treaty was concluded with the remaining tribes,
+and there occurred the last dance of the Pottawattamies on the grounds
+where the city of Chicago now stands.
+
+Five thousand Indians were present, and nearly one thousand joined in
+the dance. The latter assembled at the council-house, on the place where
+now is the northeast corner of North Water and Rush Streets, and where
+the Lake House stands. Their faces were painted in black and vermilion;
+their hair was gathered in scalp-locks on the tops of their heads, and
+was decorated with Indian plumes. They were led by drums and rattles.
+They marched in a dancing movement along the river, and stopped before
+each house to perform the grotesque figures of their ancient traditions.
+
+They seemed to be aware that this was their last gathering on the lake.
+The thought fired them. Says one who saw them:
+
+"Their eyes were wild and bloodshot. Their muscles stood out in great,
+hard knots, as if wrought to a tension that must burst them. Their
+tomahawks and clubs were thrown and brandished in every direction."
+
+The dance was carried on in a procession through the peaceful streets,
+and was concluded at Fort Dearborn in presence of the officers and
+soldiers of the garrison. It was the last great Indian gathering on the
+lake.
+
+A new civilization began in the vast empire of the inland seas with the
+signing of the Treaty of Chicago and these concluding rites. Around the
+home of pastoral John Kinzie were to gather the new emigrations of the
+nations of the world, and the Queen City of the Lakes was to rise, and
+Progress to make the seat of her empire here. Never in the history of
+mankind did a city leap into life like this, which is now setting on her
+brow the crown of the Columbus domes.
+
+On the arrival of Jasper and Waubeno at Fort Dearborn, an incident
+occurred which affords a picture of the vanished days of the prairie
+chiefs and kings. There came riding up to the trading-houses a
+middle-aged chief named Shaubena.
+
+This chief may be said to have been the guardian spirit of the infant
+city of Chicago. He hovered around her for her good for a half-century,
+and was faithful to her interests from the first to the end of his long
+life. If ever an Indian merited a statue or an imperishable memorial in
+a great city, it is Shaubena.
+
+He was born about the year 1775, on the Kankakee River. His home was on
+a prairie island, as a growth of timber surrounded by a prairie used to
+be called. It was near the head-waters of Big Indian Creek, now in De
+Kalb County. This grove, or prairie island, still bears his name.
+
+Here were his corn-fields, his sugar-camps, his lodges, and his happy
+people. In his youth he had been employed by two Ottawa priests, or
+prophets, to instruct the people in the principles of their religion,
+and so he had traveled extensively in the land of the lakes, and spoke
+English well. The old Methodist circuit-riders used to visit him on his
+prairie island, and his family was brought under their influence and
+accepted their faith. When, in 1812, Indian runners from Tecumseh
+visited the tribal towns of the Illinois River to tell the warriors that
+war had been declared between the United States and England, and to
+counsel them to unite with the English, Shaubena endeavored to restrain
+his people from such a course, and to prevent a union of the tribes
+against the American settlers. When he found that the Indians were
+marching against Chicago, he followed them on his pony.
+
+He arrived too late. A scene of blood met his eyes. Along the lake,
+where the blue waves rolled in the sun, lay forty-two dead bodies, the
+remains of white soldiers, women, and children. These bodies lay on the
+prairie for four years, until the rebuilding of Fort Dearborn in 1816,
+with the exception of the mutilated remains of Captain Wells, which
+Black Partridge buried.
+
+John Kinzie and his family had been saved, largely by the influence of
+Shaubena. Black Partridge summoned his warriors to protect the house.
+Shaubena rushed up to the porch-steps and set his rifle across the
+doorway. The rooms were occupied by Mrs. Kinzie, her children, and Mrs.
+Helm. A party of excited Indians rushed upon the place and forced their
+way into the house, to kill the women. The intended massacre was delayed
+by the friendly Indians.
+
+In the mean time a half-breed girl, who had been employed by good John
+Kinzie, and who was devoted to his family, had stolen across the prairie
+to Sauganash, or Billy Caldwell, the friendly chief. This warrior seized
+his canoe and came paddling down the waters, plumed with eagle-feathers,
+with a rifle in his hand. He rose up in his canoe, in the dark, as he
+came to the shore.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Black Partridge.
+
+"I am Sauganash."
+
+"Then save your white friends. You only can save them."
+
+The chief came to the house.
+
+"Go!" he said to the Indians. "I am Sauganash!"
+
+John Kinzie was not only ever after grateful to Sauganash and the
+half-breed girl for what they had done to save him and his family, but
+he saw that he had found a faithful heart in Shaubena. So when, to-day,
+Shaubena came riding up to his door from his prairie island on his
+little pony, he said, heartily:
+
+"Shaubena, thou art welcome!"
+
+Jasper and Waubeno joined John Kinzie and the prairie chief.
+
+"Thou, too art welcome," said John Kinzie. "Whence do you come?"
+
+Jasper told again his simple story: how that he was a Tunker, traveling
+to preach to every one, and to hold schools among the Indians; how that
+he had been to Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide, and how Black
+Hawk had sent out Waubeno as his companion.
+
+Jasper and Waubeno built a cabin of logs, bark, and bushes, in view of
+the lake, a little distance above the fort. They spent several days on
+the rude structure.
+
+"There are many Indian children who come to the trading-post," said
+Jasper, "and I may be able to begin here my first Indian school. You
+will do all you can for me, will you not, Waubeno?"
+
+"Parable, listen! You love my people, and I will do all that this arm,
+this heart, and this head can do for you. Whatever may happen, I will be
+true to you. If it costs my life, I will be true to you! You may have my
+life. Do you not believe Waubeno?"
+
+"Yes, I believe you, Waubeno. You hold honor dearer than life. You say
+that I love your people. You know that I would do right by your people,
+to my own harm. Then why will you not make to me the promise I sought
+from you on the prairie?"
+
+"I have not seen you tried. We know not any one until he is tried. My
+father was tried. He was true. I would talk with the boy that was
+laughed at for defending the turtle. He was tried. He did right because
+it was right. We will know each other better by and by. But Waubeno will
+always be true to you while you are true to Waubeno."
+
+The school opened in the new cabin about the time that the troops were
+withdrawn from the fort and the place left in the charge of the Indian
+agent. Waubeno was the teacher, and Jasper his only pupil. After a time
+Jasper secured a few pupils from the post-trading Indians. But these
+remained but for a short time. They did not like the confinement of
+instruction.
+
+One day a striking event occurred. The Indian agent came to visit the
+school. He was interested in the Indian boys, and especially in the
+progress of Waubeno, who was quick to learn. Before leaving, he said:
+
+"I have a medal in my hand. It was given to me by the general of
+Michigan. On one side of it is the Father of his Country--see him with
+his sword--Washington, the immortal Washington."
+
+He held up the medal and paused.
+
+"On the other side is an Indian chief. He is burying his hatchet. I was
+given the medal as a reward, and I will give it at the end of three
+weeks to the boy in this school who best learns his lessons. Jasper
+shall decide who it shall be."
+
+"I am glad you have said that," said Jasper. "That is the education of
+good-will. I am glad."
+
+The Indian boys studied well, but Waubeno excelled them all. At the end
+of three weeks the Indian agent again appeared, and Jasper hoped to gain
+the heart of Waubeno by the award of the medal.
+
+"To whom shall I give the medal?" asked the agent, at the end of the
+visit.
+
+Jasper looked at his boy.
+
+"It has been won by Waubeno," said Jasper. "I would be unjust not to say
+that all have been faithful, but Waubeno has been the most faithful of
+all."
+
+Waubeno sat like a statue. He did not lift his eyes.
+
+"Waubeno," said the agent, "you have heard what your teacher has said.
+The medal is yours. Here it is. You have reason to be proud of it.
+Waubeno, arise."
+
+Waubeno arose. The agent held out the medal to him.
+
+"Will you let me look at the medal?" said the boy.
+
+The medal was handed to him. He examined it. He did not smile, or show
+any emotion. His look was indifferent and stoical. What was passing in
+his mind?
+
+"The Indian chief is burying his hatchet, in the picture on this side of
+the medal," he said, slowly.
+
+"Yes," said the Indian agent, "he is a good chief."
+
+"The picture on this side represents Washington, you say?"
+
+"Yes--Washington, the Father of his Country."
+
+"He has a sword by his side, general, has he not? See."
+
+"Yes, Waubeno, he has a sword by his side."
+
+"He is a good chief, too?"
+
+"Yes, Waubeno."
+
+"Then why does he not bury his sword? I do not want the medal. What is
+good for the red chief should be as good for the white chief. I would be
+unlike my father to take a mean thing like that."
+
+He stood like a statue, with curled lip and a fiery eye. The agent
+looked queerly at Jasper. He had nothing more to say. He took back the
+medal and went away. When he had gone, Waubeno said to Jasper:
+
+"Pardon, brother; _he_ is not _the_ man--my promise to my father holds.
+They teach well, but they do not do well: it is the doing that speaks to
+the heart. The chief that buried his hatchet is a plumb fool, else the
+white chief would do so too. I have spoken!"
+
+He sat down in silence and looked out upon the lake, on which the waves
+were breaking into foam in the purple distances. His face had an injured
+look, and his eyes glowed.
+
+He arose at last and raised his hand, and said:
+
+"I will pay them all some day!--"
+
+Then he turned to Jasper and marked his disappointed face, and added:
+
+"I will be true to you. Waubeno will be true to you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO.
+
+
+One morning, as Jasper threw aside the curtain of skins that answered
+for a door to his cabin, a strange sight met his eyes. In the clearing
+between the cabin and the lake stood the tall form of an Indian. It was
+the most noble and beautiful form that he had ever seen, and the
+Indian's face and hands were white.
+
+Jasper stood silent. The white Indian bent his eyes upon him, and the
+two looked in surprise at each other.
+
+The Indian's eyes were dark, and like the eyes of the native races; but
+his nose was Roman, and his skin English, with a slight brown tinge. His
+hair was long and curly, and tinged with brown.
+
+"Waubeno," said Jasper, "who is that?"
+
+Waubeno came to the entrance of the cabin, and said:
+
+"The white Indian. _They_ bring good. Speak to him. It is a good sign."
+
+"They?" said Jasper. "I never knew that there were white Indians,
+Waubeno. Where do they live? Where do they come from?"
+
+"From the Great River. They come and go, and come and go, and they are
+unlike other Indians. They know things that other Indians do not know.
+They have a book that talks to them. It came from heaven."
+
+Jasper stepped out on to the clearing, and Waubeno followed him. The
+white Indian awaited their approach.
+
+"Welcome, stranger," said Jasper. "Where are you journeying from?"
+
+"From the Great River (Mississippi) to the land of the lakes. They are
+coming, coming, my brothers from over the sea, as the prophet said. I
+have not seen you here before. I am glad that you have come."
+
+"Where do you live?" asked Jasper.
+
+"My tribe is few, and they wander. They wander till the brothers come.
+We are not like other people here, though all the tribes treat us well
+and give us food and shelter. We are wanderers. We have lived in the
+country many years, and we have often visited Kaskaskia. You will hear
+of us there. When the French came, we thought they were brothers. Then
+the English came, and we felt that they were brothers. The white people
+are our brothers."
+
+"Come in," said Jasper, "and breakfast with us. You are strange to me. I
+never heard of you. You seem like a visitant from another world. Tell
+me, my brother, how came you to be white?"
+
+"I beg your pardon, stranger, but I ask you the same question, How came
+you to be white? The same Power that made your face like the cloud and
+the snow, made mine the same. There is kindred blood in our veins, but I
+know not how it is--we do not know. Our ancestors had a book that told
+us of God, but it was lost when the French raised the cross at
+Kaskaskia. We had a legend of the cross, and of armies marching under
+the cross, and when the bell began to ring over the praise house there,
+we found that we, too, had ancient tales of the bell. More I can not
+tell. All the tribes welcome us, and we belong to all the tribes, and we
+have wandered for years and years. Our fathers wandered."
+
+"This is all very strange," said Jasper. "Tell us more."
+
+"I expected your coming," said the white Indian. "I was not surprised to
+see you here. I expected you. I knew it. There are more white brothers
+to come--many. Let me tell you about it all.
+
+"We had a prophet once. He said that we came from over the sea, and that
+we would never return, but that we must wander and wander, and that one
+day our white brothers would come from over the sea to us. They are
+coming; their white wagons are crossing the plains. Every day they are
+coming. I love to see them come and pass. The prophet spoke true.
+
+"The French say that we came from a far-away land called Wales. The
+French say that a voyager, whose name was Modoc, set sail for the West
+eight hundred years ago, and was never heard of again in his own land;
+that his ships drifted West, and brought our fathers here. That is what
+the French say. I do not know, but I think that you and I are brothers.
+I feel it in my heart. You have treated me like a brother, and I kiss
+you in my heart. I love the English. They are my friends. I am going to
+Malden. There will be more white faces here when I come again."
+
+He took breakfast in the cabin, and went away. Jasper hardly
+comprehended the visit. He sought the Indian agent, and described to him
+the appearance of the wandering stranger, and related the story that the
+man had told.
+
+"There are white crows, white blackbirds, white squirrels, and white
+Indians," said the agent, "strange as it may seem. I know nothing about
+the origin of any of them--only that they do exist. Ever since the
+French and Indians came to the lakes white Indians have been seen. So
+have white crows and blackbirds. The French claim that these white
+Indians are of Welsh origin, and are the descendants of a body of
+mariners who were driven to our shores in the twelfth century by some
+accident of navigation or of weather. If so, the Welsh are the second
+discoverers of America, following the Northmen. But I put no faith in
+these traditions. I only know that from time to time a white-faced
+Indian is seen in the Mississippi Valley. There are many tales and
+traditions of them. It is simply a mystery that will never be solved."
+
+"But what am I to think of the white Indian's story?"
+
+"Simply that he had been taught by the French romancers, and that he
+believed it himself. Black faces have strangely appeared among white
+peoples, and Nature alone, could she speak, could explain her laws in
+these cases. The Indians have various traditions of the white Indian's
+appearance in the regions about Chicago; they regard him as a
+medicine-man, or a prophet, or a kind of good ghost. It is thought to be
+good fortune to meet him."
+
+"Why does he come here?" said Jasper.
+
+"To see the white people. He believes that the white people are his
+kindred, and that they are coming, 'coming,' and one day that they will
+flock here in multitudes. The French have told him this. He is a
+mythical character. Somehow he has white blood in his veins. I can not
+tell how. The Welsh tradition may be true, but it is hardly probable."
+
+Years passed. The white Indian appeared again. The fort had become a
+town. The Indian races were disappearing. He saw the white wagons
+crossing the prairies, and the reluctant Pottawattomies making their way
+toward the Great River and the lands of the sunset. He went away,
+solitary as when he came, and was never seen again.
+
+Who may have been these mysterious persons whose white faces for
+generations haunted the lakes and the plains? They appeared at
+Kaskaskia, their canoes glided mysteriously along the Mississippi, and
+they were often seen at the hunting-camps of the North. They sought the
+French and the English as soon as these races began to make settlements,
+and they seemed to be strangely familiar with English tones, sounds, and
+words.
+
+Jasper loved to look out from his cabin on the blue lake, and to dream
+of the old scenes of the Prussian war, of Körner, Von Weber, of
+Pestalozzi, and his friend Froebel, and contrast them with the rude new
+life around him. The past was there, but the future was here, and here
+was his work for the future. It is not what a man has that makes him
+happy, but what he is; not his present state, but the horizon of the
+future around him that imparts glow to life, and Jasper was at peace
+with himself in the sense of doing his duty. Heaven to him was bright
+with the smile of God, and he longed no more for the rose-gardens of
+Marienthal or the castles of the Rhine.
+
+The appearance of the white Indian filled the mind of Waubeno with pride
+and hope.
+
+"We will be happy now," he said. "You will be happy now; nothing happens
+to them who see the white Indian; all goes well. I know that you are
+good within, else he would not come; only they whose beings within are
+good see the white Indian, and he brings bright suns and moons and
+calumets of peace, and so the days go on forever. I now know that you
+speak true. And Waubeno has seen him; he will do well; he has seen the
+white crow among the black crows, and he will do well. Happy moons await
+Waubeno."
+
+The lake was glorious in these midsummer days. The prairie roses hung
+from the old trees in the groves, and the air rang with the joyful notes
+of the lark and plover. Indians came to the fort and went away.
+Pottawattomies encamped near the place and visited the agency, and white
+traders occasionally appeared here from Malden and Fort Wayne.
+
+But these were uneventful days of Fort Dearborn. The stories of Mrs.
+John Kinzie are among the most interesting memories of these days of
+general silence and monotony. The old Kinzie house was situated where is
+now the junction of Pine and North Water Streets. The grounds sloped
+toward the banks of the river. It had a broad piazza looking south, and
+before it lay a green lawn shaded by Lombardy poplars and a cottonwood
+tree. Across the river rose Fort Dearborn, amid groves of locust trees,
+the national flag blooming, as it were, above it.
+
+The cottonwood tree in the yard was planted by John Kinzie, and lived
+until Chicago became a great city, in Long John Wentworth's day.
+
+The old residents of Chicago will ever recall the beauty of the outlook
+from the south piazza. At the dull period of the agency, only an Indian
+canoe, perhaps from Mackinaw, disturbed the peace of the river.
+
+It was on this piazza that on a June morning was heard the chorus of
+Moore's Canadian Boat Song on the Chicago River, and here General Lewis
+Cass presently appeared. The great men of the New West often gathered
+here after that. Here the best stories of the lake used to be told by
+voyagers, and Mark Beaubien, we may well suppose, often played his
+violin.
+
+The scene of the lake and river from the place was changed by moonlight
+into romance.
+
+Amid such scenes the old Chief Shaubena related the legends of the
+tribes, and Mrs. Kinzie the thrilling episodes of the massacre of 1812.
+Jasper, we may imagine, joined the company, with the beautiful spiritual
+tales of the Rhine, and Waubeno added his delightful wonder-tale of the
+white Indian, whose feet brought good fortune. No one then dreamed that
+John Kinzie's home stood for two millions of people who would come there
+before the century should close, or that the cool cottonwood tree would
+throw its shade over some of the grandest scenes in the march of the
+world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+LAFAYETTE AT KASKASKIA--THE STATELY MINUET.
+
+
+Jasper made the best use of the story-telling method of influence in his
+school in the little cabin on the lake near Chicago River. He sought to
+impart moral ideas by the old Roman fables and German folk-lore stories.
+He often told the tale of the poor girl who went out for a few drops of
+water for her dying mother, in the water famine, and how her dipper was
+changed into silver, gold, and diamonds, as she shared the water with
+the sufferers on her return. But neither Æsop nor fairy lore so
+influenced the Indian boys as his story of the Indiana boy who defended
+the turtles and pitied the turtle with the broken shell.
+
+"I would like to meet him," said Waubeno, one day when the story had
+been told. "What is his name, Parable? What do you call him by?"
+
+"Lincoln," said Jasper, "Abraham Lincoln."
+
+"Where does he live, Parable?"
+
+"On Pigeon Creek, in Indiana."
+
+"Is the place far away?"
+
+"Yes, very far away by water, and a hard journey by land. Pigeon Creek
+is far away, near the Ohio River; south, Waubeno--far away to the
+south."
+
+"Will you ever go there again?"
+
+"Yes--I hope to go there again, and to take you along with me," said
+Jasper. "I have planned to go down the Illinois in the spring, in a
+canoe, to the Mississippi, and down the Mississippi to the Ohio, and
+visit Kaskaskia, and thence along the Ohio to the Wabash, and to the
+home where the boy lives who defended the turtles. It will be a long
+journey, and I expect to stop at many places, and preach and teach and
+form schools. I want you to go with me and guide my canoe. All these
+rivers are beautiful in summer. They are shaded by trees, and run
+through prairies of flowers. The waters are calm, and the skies are
+bright, and the birds sing continually. O Waubeno, this is a beautiful
+world to those who use it rightly--a beautiful, beautiful world!"
+
+"Me will go," said Waubeno. "Me would see that boy. I want to see a
+story boy, as you say."
+
+The attempt to establish an Indian school on the Chicago was not wholly
+successful. The pupils did not remain long enough to receive the
+intended influence. They came from encampments that were never stable.
+The Indian village was there one season, and gone the next. The Indians
+who came in canoes to the agency soon went away again. Jasper, in the
+spring of 1825, resolved to carry out the journey that he had described
+to Waubeno, and with the first warm winds he and the Indian boy set out
+for Kaskaskia by the way of the Illinois to the Mississippi, and by the
+Mississippi to the Kaskaskia.
+
+It was a long journey. Jasper stopped often at the Indian encampments
+and the new settlements. Waubeno was a faithful friend, and he came to
+love him for true-heartedness, sympathy, and native worth of soul. He
+often tried to teach him by stories, but as often as he said, "Now,
+Waubeno, we will talk," he would say, "Tell me the one with broken
+shell"--meaning the story. There was some meaning behind this story of
+the turtle with the broken shell that had completely won the heart of
+Waubeno. The boy Abraham Lincoln was his hero. Again and again, after he
+had listened to the simple narrative, he asked:
+
+"Is the story boy alive?"
+
+"Yes, Waubeno."
+
+"And we will meet him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That is good. I feel for him here," and he would lay his hand on his
+heart. "I love the story boy."
+
+They traveled slowly. After a long journey down the Illinois, the
+Mississippi rolled before them in the full tides of early spring. They
+passed St. Louis, and one late April evening found them before the once
+royal town of Kaskaskia.
+
+The bell was ringing as they landed, the bell that had been cast in fair
+Rochelle, and that was the first bell to ring between the Alleghanies
+and the Mississippi. Most of the black-robed missionaries were gone, as
+had the high-born French officers, with their horses, sabers, and
+banner-plumes, who once sought treasure and fame in this grand town of
+the Mississippi Valley. The Bourbon lilies had fallen from old Fort
+Chartres a generation ago, and the British cross had come down, and
+to-day all the houses, new and old, were decked with the stars and
+stripes. It was not a holiday. What did it mean?
+
+Jasper and Waubeno entered the old French town, and gazed at the brick
+buildings, the antique roofs, the high dormer windows, and the faded
+houses of by-gone priest and nun. The tavern was covered with flags,
+French and American, as were the grand house of William Morrison and the
+beautiful Edgar mansion. The house once occupied by the French
+commandant was wrapped in the national colors. It had been the first
+State House of Illinois. A hundred years before--just one hundred
+years--Kaskaskia Commons had received its grand name from his most
+Christian Majesty Louis XV, and it then seemed likely to become the
+capital of the French mid-continent empire in the New World. The Jesuits
+flocked here, zealous for the conversion of the Indian races. Here came
+men of rank and military glory, and Fort Chartres rose near it, grand
+and powerful as if to awe the world. But there was a foe in the fort of
+the French heart, and the boundless empire faded, and the old French
+town went to the American pioneer, and the fort became a ruin, like
+Louisburg at Cape Breton.
+
+As Jasper and Waubeno passed along the broad streets they noticed that
+the town was filled with country people, and that there were Indians
+among them.
+
+One of these Indians approached Waubeno, and said:
+
+"She--yonder--see--Mary Panisciowa--daughter of the Great Chief--Mary
+Panisciowa."
+
+Waubeno followed with his eye the daughter of the Chief of the Six
+Nations. He went forward with the crowd and came to the house that she
+was making her home, and asked to meet her. Jasper had followed him.
+
+They turned aside from the street, which was full of excited
+people--excited Jasper knew not why. The door of the house where Mary
+Panisciowa was visiting stood open, and they were asked to enter.
+
+She looked a queen, yet she had the graces of the English and French
+people. She was a most accomplished woman. She spoke both English and
+French readily, her education having been conducted by an American agent
+to whom she had been commended by her father.
+
+"This is good news," she said.
+
+"What?" said Jasper. "Good news comes from God. Yet all events are news
+from heaven. The people seem greatly exercised. What has happened?"
+
+"Lafayette, the great Lafayette--have you not heard?--the marquis--he is
+on his way to Kaskaskia, and that is why I am here. My father fought
+under him, and the general sent him a letter thanking him for his
+services in the American cause. It was written forty years ago. I have
+brought it. I hope to meet him. Would you like to see it?--a letter from
+the great Lafayette."
+
+Mary Panisciowa took from her bosom a faded letter, and said:
+
+"My father fought for the new people, and I have taken up their religion
+and customs. I suppose that you have done the same," she said to
+Waubeno.
+
+"No; that can not be, for me."
+
+"Why? I supposed that you were a Christian, as you travel with the
+Tunker."
+
+"Mary Panisciowa knows how my father died. I am his son. I swore to be
+true to his name. The Tunker says that I must forswear myself to become
+a Christian. That I shall never do. I respect the teachings of your new
+religion, and I love the Tunker and shall always be true to him, but I
+shall be true to the memory of my father. Mary Panisciowa, think how he
+died, and of the men who killed him. They claimed to be Christians.
+Think of that! I am not a Christian. Mary Panisciowa, there is a spot
+that burns in my heart. I do not dissemble. I do not deceive. But that
+fire will burn there till I have kept my vow, and I shall do it."
+
+"Waubeno," said the woman, "listen to better counsels. Revenge only
+spreads the fires of evil. Forgiveness quenches them.--That is a noble
+letter," she said to Jasper.
+
+"Yes, a noble letter, and the marquis is an apostle of human liberty, a
+friend of all men everywhere. What brings him here?"
+
+"The old French and new English families. His visit is unexpected. The
+people can not receive him as they ought to, but he is to dine at the
+tavern, and there are to be two grand receptions at the great houses,
+one at Mr. Edgar's. I wish I could see him and show him this letter. I
+shall try. But they have not invited me. They are proud people, and they
+will not invite me; but I shall try to see him. It would be the happiest
+hour of my life if I could take the hand of the great Lafayette."
+
+Mary Panisciowa was thrilled with her desire to meet General Lafayette.
+
+Cannons boomed, drums and fifes played, and all the people hurried
+toward the landing. The marquis came in the steamer Natchez from St.
+Louis. When Mary Panisciowa heard the old bell ringing she knew that the
+marquis was coming, and she hid the faded old letter in her bosom and
+wept. She sent a messenger to the tavern, who asked Lafayette if he
+would meet the daughter of Panisciowa, and receive a message from her.
+
+Just at night she looked out of the door, and saw an officer in uniform
+and a party of her own people coming toward the house. The officer
+appeared before the door, touched his head and bowed, and said:
+
+"Mary Panisciowa, I am told."
+
+"My father was Panisciowa."
+
+"He fought under General Lafayette?"
+
+"Yes, he fought under Lafayette, and I have a letter from the general
+here, written to him more than forty years ago. Will you read it?"
+
+The officer took the letter, read it, and said:
+
+"You should meet the general."
+
+"You are very kind, sir. I want to meet him; but how? There is to be a
+reception at the Morrisons, but I am not invited. The Governor is to be
+there. But they would not invite me."
+
+"Come to the reception at the Morrisons. I will be responsible. The
+marquis will welcome you. He is a gentleman. To say that a man is a
+gentleman, is to cover all right conduct. Bring your letter, and he will
+receive you. I will speak to Governor Coles about you. You will come?"
+
+"May my friend Waubeno come with me? I am the daughter of a chief, and
+he is the son of a warrior. It would be befitting that we should come
+together. I wish that he might see the great Lafayette."
+
+"As you like," said the officer, hurrying away with uncovered head.
+
+Mary Panisciowa prepared to go to the grand reception. Early in the
+evening she and Waubeno, followed by Jasper, came up to the Morrison
+mansion, where a kind of court reception was to be held.
+
+The streets were full of people. The houses were everywhere illuminated,
+and people were hurrying to and fro, or listening to the music in the
+hall.
+
+Lafayette was now nearly threescore and ten years of age, the beloved
+hero of France and America, and the leader of human liberty in all
+lands. He had left Havre on July 12th, 1824, and had arrived in New York
+on the 15th of August. He was accompanied by his son, George Washington
+Lafayette, and his private secretary, M. Levasseur. His passage through
+the country had been a triumphal procession, under continuous arches of
+flags, evergreens, and flowers, bearing the words, "Welcome, Lafayette."
+Forty years had passed since he was last in America. The thirteen States
+had become twenty-four. He had visited Joseph Bonaparte, the grave of
+Washington, and the battle-field of Yorktown. His reception in the South
+had been an outpouring of hearts. And now he had turned aside from the
+great Mississippi to see Kaskaskia, the romantic town of the vanished
+French empire of the Mississippi.
+
+Mary and Waubeno waited outside of the door. The Indian woman listened
+for a time to the gay music, and watched the bright uniforms as they
+passed to and fro under the glittering astrals. At last an American
+officer came down the steps, lifted his hat, and said to the two Indians
+and to Jasper:
+
+"Follow me."
+
+Lafayette had already received the public men of the place. Airy music
+arose, and the officials and their wives and guests were going through
+the form of the old court minuet.
+
+The music of Mozart's Don Giovanni minuet has been heard in a thousand
+halls of state and at the festivals of many lands. We may imagine the
+charm that such music had here, in this oaken room of the forest and
+prairie. At the head of the plumed ladies and men in glittering uniforms
+stood the Marquis of France, whom the world delighted to honor, and led
+the stately obeisances to the picturesque movement of the music under
+the flags and astrals. A remnant of the old romantic French families
+were there, soldiers of the Revolution, the leaders of the new order of
+American life, Governor Coles and his officers, and rich traders of St.
+Louis. As the music swayed these stately forms backward and forward with
+the fascinating poetry of motion that can hardly be called a dance, the
+two Indian faces caught the spirit of the scene. Waubeno had never heard
+the music of the minuet before, and the strains entranced him as they
+rose and fell.
+
+[Illustration: Minuet from Don Giovanni.
+
+BY MOZART. ARR. BY CARL ERICH.
+
+Published by the permission of Arthur P. Schmidt.
+
+Copyright, 1880, by Carl Prüfer.]
+
+After the minuet, Lafayette and Governor Coles received the
+towns-people, and among the first to be presented to the marquis was
+Mary Panisciowa.
+
+She bowed modestly, and told him her simple tale. The marquis listened
+at first with courtly interest, then with profound emotion. She drew
+from her bosom the letter that he had written to her father, the chief.
+His own writing brought before him the scenes of almost a half-century
+gone, the struggle for liberty in the new land to which he had given his
+young soul. He remembered the old chief, and the forest scenes of those
+heroic years; Washington, and the generals he had loved, most of whom
+were gone, arose again. His heart filled with emotion, and he said:
+
+"Nothing in my visit here has affected me so much as this. I thank you
+for seeking me. I welcome you with all my heart. Let me spend as much
+time as I may in your company. Your father was a hero, and your presence
+fills my heart with no common pleasure and delight. Stay with me."
+
+The marquis welcomed Waubeno cordially, and expressed his pleasure at
+meeting him here. At the romantic festival no people were more warmly
+met than the chief's daughter and her escort.
+
+"The French have always been true to the Indians," said Waubeno, on
+leaving the general, "and the Indians have been as true to the French."
+
+"Never did rulers have better subjects," said the general.
+
+"Never did subjects have better rulers," said Waubeno, almost repeating
+the scene of Dick Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London, by virtue of
+his wonderful cat, to King Henry.
+
+The Indians withdrew amid the gay strains of national music, the stately
+minuet haunting Waubeno and ringing in his ears.
+
+He tried to hum the rhythms of the beautiful air of the courts. Jasper
+saw how the music had affected him, and that he was happy and
+susceptible, and said:
+
+"Waubeno, you have met a man to-night who would forget his own position
+and pleasure to do honor to the Indian girl."
+
+"Yes, I am sure of that."
+
+"You are your best self to-night--in your best mood; the music has
+awakened your better soul. You remember your promise?"
+
+"Yes, but, Brother Jasper--"
+
+"What, Waubeno?"
+
+"Lafayette is a _Frenchman_, and--a gentleman. The Indians and French do
+not spill each other's blood. Why?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN.
+
+
+One leafy afternoon in May, Jasper and Waubeno came to Aunt Olive's, at
+Pigeon Creek. Southern Indiana is a glory of sunshine and flowers at
+this season of the year, and their journey had been a very pleasant one.
+
+They had met emigrants on the Ohio, and had seen the white sail of the
+prairie schooner in all of the forest ways.
+
+"The world seems moving to the west," said Jasper, "as in the white
+Indian's dream. There is need of my work more and more. Every child that
+I can teach to read will make better this new empire that is being
+sifted out of the lands. Every school that I can found is likely to
+become a college, and I am glad to be a wanderer in the wilderness for
+the sake of my fellow-men."
+
+In the open door, under the leafing vines, stood Aunt Indiana, in cap,
+wig, and spectacles. She arched her elbow over all to shade her eyes.
+
+"The old Tunker, as I live, come again, and brought his Indian boy with
+him!" said she. "Well, you are welcome to Pigeon Creek. You left a sight
+of good thoughts here when you were here before. You're a good pitcher,
+if you are a little cracked, with the handle all one side. Come in, and
+welcome. Take a chair and sit down--
+
+    ''Tis a long time since I see you.
+    How does your wife and children do?'
+
+as the poet sings."
+
+"I am well, and am glad to be toiling for the bread that does not fail
+in the wilderness. How are the people of Pigeon Creek--how are my good
+friends the Lincolns?"
+
+"The Linkens? Well, Tom Linken makes out to hold together after a
+fashion--all dreams and expectations. 'The thing that hath been is,' the
+Scriptur' says, and Thomas Linken _is_--just as he always was, and
+always will be to the end of the chapter. He's got to the p'int after
+which there is no more to be told, long ago. The life of such as he
+repeats itself over and over, like a buzzin' spinnin'-wheel. And _Miss_
+Linken, she is as patient as ever; 'tis her mission just to be patient
+with old Tom."
+
+"And Abraham?"
+
+"That boy Abe--the one that we prophesied about! Well, elder, I do hate
+to say, 'cause it makes you out to be no prophet, and you mean well,
+goin' about tryin' to get a little larnin' into the skulls of the people
+in this new country; but that boy promises pretty slim, though I ain't
+nothin' to say agin' him. In the first place, he's grown up to be a
+giant, all legs and ears, mouth and eyes. Why, he is the tallest young
+man in this part of Indiana!
+
+"Then, his head's off. He goes about readin' books, just as he did when
+you were here last--this book, and that book, and the other book; and
+then he all runs to talk, which some folks takes for wisdom. He tells
+stories that makes everybody laugh, and he seems very chipper and happy,
+but they do say that he has melancholy spells, and is all down in the
+mouth at times. But he's good-hearted, and speaks the truth, and helps
+poor folks, and there's many a wuss one than Abraham Linken now. They
+didn't invite him to the great weddin' of the Grigsbys, cos he's so
+homely, and hadn't anythin' to wear but leather breeches, and they only
+come down a little below his knees. Queer-lookin' he'd 'a' been to a
+weddin'!
+
+"He felt orful bad at not bein' invited, and made some poetry about 'em.
+When I feel poetic I talk prose, and give people as good as they send. I
+don't write no poetry.
+
+"You are welcome to stay here, elder. You needn't go to the Linkens'. I
+have a prophet's chamber in my house--though you ain't a prophet--and
+you can always sleep there, and your Indian boy can lay down in the
+kitchen; and I can cook, elder--now you know that--and I won't ask ye to
+cobble; your time is too valuable for that."
+
+Jasper, who was not greatly influenced by Aunt Indiana's unfavorable
+views of her poor neighbor, went to see Thomas Lincoln. Waubeno went
+with him. Here the young Indian met with a hearty greeting from both Mr.
+and Mrs. Lincoln.
+
+"I am glad that you have come again," said poor Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper.
+"You comforted me and encouraged me when you were here last. I want to
+talk with you. Abe has all grown up, and wants to make a new start in
+life; and I wish to see him started right. There's so much in gettin'
+started right; a right start is all the way, sometimes. We don't travel
+twice over the same years. I want you to talk with him. You have seen
+this world, and we haven't, but you kind o' brought the world to us when
+you were here last. Elder, you don't know how much good you are doin'."
+
+"Where is Abraham?" asked Jasper.
+
+"He's gone to the store for the evenin'. He's been keepin' store for
+Jones, in Gentryville, and he spends his evenin's there. There ain't
+many places to go to around here, and Abe he's turned the store into a
+kind of debatin' club. He speaks pieces there. There's goin' to be a
+debate there to-night. He's great on debatin'. I do hope you'll go. The
+subject of the debate to-night is, 'Which has the greater cause for
+complaint, the negro or the Indian?'"
+
+"I'm goin' over to the store to-night myself, elder," said Thomas
+Lincoln. "You must go along with me and hear Abraham talk, and then come
+back and spend the night here. The old woman has been hopin' that you
+would come. It pleased her mightily, what you said good about Abraham
+when you was here last. She sets her eyes by Abraham, and he does by
+her. Abraham and I don't get along none too well. The fact is, he all
+runs to books, and is kind o' queer. He takes after his mother's
+folks--they all had houses in the air, and lived in 'em. Abe might make
+somethin'; there's somethin' in him, if larnin' don't spile him. I have
+to warn him against larnin' all the time, but it all goes agin the
+grain, and I declare sometimes I do get all out of patience, and clean
+discouraged. Why, elder, he even takes a book out when he goes to shuck
+corn, and he composes poetry on the wooden shovel, and planes it out
+with my plane, and wears the shovel all up. There, now, look
+there!--could you stand it?"
+
+Thomas Lincoln took up a large wooden fire-shovel, and held it before
+the eyes of the Tunker. On the great bowl of the shovel were penned some
+lines in coal.
+
+"What does that read, elder?--I can't tell. I ain't got no larnin' to
+spare. What does it read, elder?"
+
+Jasper scanned the writing on the surface of the back of the shovel. The
+writing was clear and plain. Mrs. Lincoln came and looked over his
+shoulder.
+
+"Writ it himself, likely as not," said she. "Abe writes poetry; he can't
+help it sometimes--it's a gift. Read it, elder."
+
+Jasper read slowly:
+
+    "'Time! what an empty vapor 'tis!
+      And days, how swift they are!
+    Swift as an arrow speed our lives,
+      Swift as the shooting star.
+    The present moment--'"
+
+"He didn't finish it, did he, elder? I think it is real pooty--don't
+you?"
+
+Mrs. Lincoln turned her broad, earnest face toward the Tunker.
+
+"Real pooty, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes," said Jasper. "He'll be likely to do some great work in life, and
+leave it unfinished. It comes to me so."
+
+[Illustration: A QUEER PLACE TO WRITE POETRY.]
+
+"Don't say so, elder. His father don't praise him much, but he's real
+good to me, and I hope no evil will ever happen to him. I set lots of
+store by Abe. I don't know any difference between him and my own son.
+His poor, dead mother, that lies out there all alone under the trees,
+knows that I have done by him as if he were my own. You know, the
+guardian angels of children see the face of the Father, and I kind o'
+think that she is his guardian; and if she is, now, I hain't anything to
+reflect upon."
+
+"Only you're spilin' him--that's all," said Mr. Lincoln. "Some women are
+so good that they are not good for anything, and between me and Sarah
+and his poor, dead mother, Abraham has never had the discipline that he
+ought to have had. But Andrew Crawford, the schoolmaster, and Josiah
+Crawford, the farmer, did their duty by him. Come, elder, let us go up
+to Jones's store, and talk politics a while. Jones, he's a Jackson man.
+He sets great store by Abe, and thinks, like you and Sarah, that the boy
+will make somethin' some day. Well, I hope he will--can't tell."
+
+Mr. Jones's store was the popular resort of Gentryville. Says one of the
+old pioneers, Dougherty: "Lincoln drove a team, and sold goods for
+Jones. Jones told me that Lincoln read all of his books, and I remember
+the History of the United States as one. Jones afterward said to me that
+Lincoln would make a great man one of these days--had said so long
+before to other people, and so as far back as 1828 and 1829."
+
+The store was full of men and boys when Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and
+Waubeno arrived. Dennis Hanks was there, and the Grigsbys. Josiah
+Crawford, who had made Abraham pull fodder for three days for allowing a
+book that he had lent him to get wet one rainy night, was seated on a
+barrel. His nose was very long, and he had a high forehead, and wide
+look across the forehead. He looked very wise and thought himself a
+Solomon.
+
+The men and boys all seemed to be glad to see the Tunker, and they
+greeted Waubeno kindly, though curiously, and plied him with civil
+questions about Black Hawk.
+
+There was to be a debate that evening, and Mr. Jones called the men to
+order, and each one mounted a barrel and lit his pipe--or all except
+Abraham and Waubeno, who did not smoke, but who stood near each other,
+almost side by side.
+
+"Abraham," said Thomas Lincoln, "you'll have to argue the p'int for the
+Indian well to-night, or--there he is!"--pointing to Waubeno--"he'll
+answer ye."
+
+The debate went slowly at first, then grew exciting. When Abraham
+Lincoln's turn came to speak, all the store grew still. The subject of
+the debate was, as Thomas Lincoln had said: "Which has the greater cause
+for complaint, the Indian or the negro?"
+
+Abraham Lincoln claimed the Indian was more wronged than the negro, and
+his homely face glowed as with a strange fire as he pictured the red
+man's wrongs. He towered above the men like a giant, and moved his arms
+as though they possessed some invisible power.
+
+Waubeno fixed his eyes on him, and felt the force and thrust of his
+every word.
+
+"If I were a negro," said Lincoln, "I would hope that some redeemer and
+deliverer would arise, like Moses of old. But if I were an Indian, what
+would I have to hope for, if I fell under the avarice of the white man?
+Let the past answer that."
+
+"Let the heavens answer that," said Waubeno, "or let their gates be ever
+closed."
+
+Thomas Lincoln started.
+
+"Waubeno, you have come from Black Hawk. He slays men, and we know him.
+An Indian killed my father."
+
+"An Indian killed your father--and what did you do?"
+
+"My brother Mordecai avenged his death, and caused many Indians to bite
+the dust."
+
+"White brother," said Waubeno, "a white man killed my father. What ought
+_I_ to do?"
+
+The men held their pipes in silence.
+
+"My father was an innocent man," said the pioneer.
+
+"My father was an honorable warrior," said Waubeno, "and defended his
+own rights--rights as dear to him as your father's, or yours, or mine.
+What ought _I_ to do?" He turned to young Lincoln. "What would _you_
+do?"
+
+"I hold that in all things right is might, and I defend the right of an
+Indian as I would the rights of a white man, but I never would shed any
+man's blood for avarice or malice. Waubeno, I would defend you in a
+cause of right against the world. I would rather have the approval of
+Heaven than the praise of all mankind."
+
+"Brother," said Waubeno, "I believe that you speak true, but I do not
+know. If I only knew that you spoke true, I would not do as Mordecai
+did. I would forgive the white man."
+
+The candles smoked, and the men talked long into the night. At last
+Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and Waubeno went home, where Mrs. Lincoln was
+awaiting them. They expected Abraham to follow them. They sat up that
+night late, and talked about the prairie country, and the prospects of
+the emigrants to Illinois.
+
+"Now you had better go to rest," said Sarah Lincoln. "I will sit up
+until Abe comes. I do not see why he is so late to-night, when the
+Tunker is here, too, and the Indian boy."
+
+"He's with the Grigsbys, I guess," said Mr. Lincoln.
+
+The two men went to their beds, and Waubeno laid down on a mat on the
+floor. Hour after hour passed, and Mrs. Lincoln went again and again to
+the door and listened, but Abraham did not return. It was midnight when
+she laid down, but even then it was to listen, and not to sleep.
+
+In the morning Abraham returned. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks
+were white.
+
+"Get me some coffee, mother," he said. "I have not slept a wink
+to-night."
+
+"Why, where have you been, Abraham?"
+
+"Watchin'--watchin' with a frozen drunken man. I found him on the road,
+and carried him to Dennis's on my back. He seemed to be dead, but I
+rubbed him all night long, and he breathed again."
+
+"Why did you not get some one to help you?"
+
+"The boys all left me. They said that old Holmes was not worth revivin',
+even if he had any life left in him; that it would be better for himself
+and everybody if he were left to perish."
+
+"Holmes! Did you carry that man on your back, Abraham?"
+
+"Yes. I could not leave him by the road. He is a human being, and I did
+by him as I would have him do by me if I lost my moral senses. They told
+me to leave him to his fate, but I couldn't, mother. I couldn't."
+
+Waubeno gazed on the young giant as he drank his coffee, and sank into a
+deep slumber on a mat in the room. He watched him as he slept.
+
+When he woke, Jasper said to him:
+
+"Abraham, I wish you to know this Indian boy. I think there is a native
+nobility in him. Do you remember Johnnie Kongapod's story, at which the
+people all used to laugh?"
+
+"Yes, elder."
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, I can believe that story was true. I have faith in
+men. You do. Your faith will make you great."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THE DEBATING SCHOOL.
+
+
+There were some queer people in every town and community of the new
+West, and these were usually active at the winter debating school. These
+schools of the people for the discussion of life, politics, literature,
+were, on the whole, excellent influences; they developed what was
+original in the thought and character of a place, and stimulated reading
+and study. If a man was a theorist, he could here find a voice for his
+opinions; and if he were a genius, he could here uncage his gifts and
+find recognition. Nearly all of the early clergymen, lawyers,
+congressmen, and leaders of the people of early Indiana and Illinois
+were somehow developed and educated in these so-called debating schools.
+
+Among the odd people sure to be found in such rural assemblies were the
+man with visionary schemes for railroads, canals, and internal
+improvements, the sanguine inventor, the noisy free-thinker, the
+benevolent Tunker, the man who could preach without notes by "direct
+inspiration," the man who thought that the world was about to come to an
+end, and the patriot who pictured the American eagle as a bird of fate
+and divinity. The early pioneer preacher learned to talk in public in
+the debating school. The young lawyer here made his first pleas.
+
+The frequent debates in Jones's store led to the formation of a debating
+school in Gentryville and Pigeon Creek. In this society young Abraham
+Lincoln was the leader, and his cousin Dennis Hanks and his uncle John
+were prominent disputants. The story-telling blacksmith furnished much
+of the humor, and Josiah Crawford, or "Blue-Nose Crawford," as he was
+called, was regarded as the man of hard sense on such occasions as
+require a Solomon, or a Daniel, or a Portia, and he was very proud to be
+so regarded.
+
+There was a revival of interest in the cause of temperance in the
+country at this time, and the noble conduct of Abraham Lincoln, in
+carrying to his cousin Dennis's the poor drunkard whom he had found in
+the highway on the chilly night after the debate at Jones's store, may
+have led to a plan for a great debate on the subject of the pledge,
+which was appointed to take place in the log school-house at Pigeon
+Creek. The plan was no more than spoken of at the store than it began to
+excite general attention.
+
+"We must debate this subject of the temperance pledge," said Thomas
+Lincoln, "and get the public sense. New times are at hand. On general
+principles, I'm a temperance man; and if nobody drank once, then nobody
+would drink twice, and the world would all go dry. But there's the
+corn-huskin's, and the hoe-down, and the mowin' times, and the
+hog-killin's, and the barn-raisin's. It is only natural that men should
+wet their whistles at such times as these. In the old Scriptur' times
+people who wanted to get great spiritual power abstained from strong
+drink; but you can't expect no such people as those down here at Pigeon
+Creek."
+
+"But Abe is a temperancer, and I want the debate to come off in good
+shape, so that all you uns can hear what he has to say."
+
+It was decided by the leading debaters that the subject for the debate
+should be, "Ought temperance people to sign the temperance pledge?" and
+that Abraham Lincoln should sustain the affirmative view of the
+question.
+
+The success of young Lincoln as a debater had greatly troubled Aunt
+Indiana.
+
+"It's all like the rattlin' of a pea-pod in the blasts o' ortum," she
+said. "It don't signify anything. He just rains words upon ye, and makes
+ye laugh, and the first thing ye know he's got ye. Beware--beware! his
+words are just like stool-pigeons, what brings you down to get shot.
+It's amazin' what a curi'us gift of talk that boy has!"
+
+When she heard of the plan of the debate, and the part assigned to young
+Lincoln, she said:
+
+"'Twill be a great night for Abe, unless I hinder it. I'm agin the
+temperance pledge. Stands to reason that a man's no right to sign away
+his liberty. And I'm agin Abe Linkern, because he's too smart for
+anythin', and lives up in the air like a kite; and outthinks other
+people, because he sits round readin' and turkey-dreamin' when he ought
+to be at work. I shall work agin him."
+
+And she did. She first consulted upon the subject with Josiah
+Crawford--"the Esquire," as she called him--and he promised to give the
+negative of the question all the weight of his ability.
+
+There was a young man in Gentryville named John Short, who thought that
+he had had a call to preach, and who often came to Aunt Indiana for
+theological instruction.
+
+"Don't run round the fields readin' books, like Abraham Linkern," she
+warned him. "He'll never amount to a hill o' beans. The true way to
+become a preacher is to go into the desk, and open the Bible, and put
+yer fingers on the first passage that you come to, and then open yer
+mouth, and the Lord will fill it. I do not believe in edicated
+ministers. They trust in chariots and horses. Go right from the plow to
+the pulpit, and the heavens will help ye."
+
+John Short thought Aunt Indiana's advice sound, and he resolved to
+follow it. He once made an appointment to preach after this unprepared
+manner in the school-house. He could not read very well. He had once
+read at school, "And he smote the Hittite that he died" "And he smote
+the Hi-ti-ti-ty, that he did," and he opened the Bible at random for a
+Scripture lesson on this trying occasion. His eye fell upon the hard
+chapters in Chronicles beginning "Adam, Sheth, Enoch." He succeeded very
+well in the reading until he came to the generations of Japheth and the
+sons of Gomer, which were mountains too difficult to pass. He lifted his
+eyes and said, "And so it goes on to the end of the chapter, without
+regard to particulars."
+
+"That chapter was given me to try me," he said, as a kind of commentary,
+"and, my friends, I have been equal to it. And now you shall hear me
+preach, and after that we'll take up a contribution for the new
+meetin'-house."
+
+The sermon was a short one, and began amid much mental confusion. "A
+certain man," he began, "went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell
+among thieves; and the thieves sprang up and choked him; and he said,
+'Who is my neighbor?' You all know who your neighbors are, O my
+friends." Here followed a long pause. He added:
+
+"Always be good to your neighbors. And now we will pass around the
+contribution-box, and after that we'll _all_ talk."
+
+This beginning of his work as a speaker did not look promising, but he
+had conducted "a meetin'," and that fact made John Short a shining light
+in Aunt Indiana's eyes. To this young man the good woman went for a
+champion of her ideas in the great debate.
+
+But, notwithstanding her theory, she proceeded to instruct him as to
+what he should say on the occasion.
+
+"Say to 'em, John, that he who comes to ye with a temperance pledge
+insults yer character. It is like askin' ye to promise not to become a
+jackass; and what would ye think of a man who would ask ye to sign a
+paper like that? or to sign the Ten Commandments? or to promise that
+ye'd never lie any _more_? It's one's duty to maintain one's dignity of
+character, and, John, I want ye to open yer mouth in defense of the
+rights of liberty on the occasion; and do yer duty, and bring down the
+Philistine with a pebble-stun, and 'twill be a glorious night for Pigeon
+Creek."
+
+The views of Aunt Olive Eastman on preaching without preparation and on
+temperance were common at this time in Indiana and Illinois. By not
+understanding a special direction of our Lord to his disciples as to
+what they should do in times of persecution, many of the pioneer
+exhorters used to speak from the text on which their eyes first rested
+on opening the Bible. They seemed to think that this mental field needed
+no planting or culture--no training like Paul's in the desert of Arabia,
+and that the pulpit stood outside of the universal law. The moral
+education of the pledge of Father Matthew was just beginning to excite
+attention. Strange as it may seem, the thoughts and plans of the Irish
+apostle of temperance and founder of the Order of St. Vincent de Paul
+seemed to have come to Abraham Lincoln in his early days much as
+original inspiration. His first public speech was on this subject. It
+was made in Springfield, Illinois, in 1842, and advocated the plan which
+Father Matthew was then originating in Ireland, the education of the
+public conscience by the moral force of the temperance pledge.
+
+It was a lengthening autumn evening when the debate took place in the
+school-house in the timber. The full moon rose like a disk of gold as
+the sun sank in clouds of crimson fire, and the light of the day became
+a mellowed splendor during half of the night. The corn-fields in the
+clearings rose like armies, bearing food on every hand. Flocks of birds
+darkened the sunset air, and little animals of the woods ran to and fro
+amid the crisp and fallen leaves. The air was vital with the coolness
+that brings the frost and causes the trees to unclasp their countless
+shells, barks, and burrs, and let the ripe nuts fall.
+
+The school-room filled with earnest faces early in the evening. The
+people came over from Gentryville, among them Mr. Gentry himself and Mr.
+Jones the store-keeper. Women brought tallow dips for lights, and
+curious candlesticks and snuffers.
+
+Aunt Indiana and Josiah Crawford came together, an imposing-looking
+couple, who brought with them the air of special sense and wisdom. Aunt
+Indiana wore a bonnet of enormous proportions, which distinguished her
+from the other women, who wore hoods. She brought in her hand a brass
+candlestick, which the children somehow associated with the ancient
+Scripture figures, and which looked as though it might have belonged to
+the temples of old. She was tall and stately, and the low room was too
+short for her soaring bonnet, but she bent her head, and sat down near
+Josiah Crawford, and set the candle in the shining candlestick, and cast
+a glance of conscious superiority over the motley company.
+
+The moderator rapped for order and stated the question for debate, and
+made some inspiring remarks about "parliamentary" rules. John Short
+opened the debate with a plea for independence of character, and
+self-respect and personal liberty.
+
+"What would you think," he asked, "of a man who would come to you _in
+the night_ and ask you to sign a paper not to lie any more? What? You
+would think that he thought you had been lying. Would you sign that
+paper? No! You would call out the dogs of retribution, and take down
+your father's sword, and you would uplift your foot into the indignant
+air, and protect your family name and honor. Who would be called a liar,
+in a cowardly way like that? And who would be called a drunkard, by
+being asked to sign the paper of a tee-totaler? Who?"
+
+Here John Short paused. He presently said:
+
+"Hoo?"--which sounded in the breathless silence like the inquiries of
+an owl. But his ideas had all taken wings again and left him, as on the
+occasion when he attempted to preach without notes or preparation.
+
+Aunt Indiana looked distressed. She leaned over toward Josiah Crawford,
+and said:
+
+"Say somethin'."
+
+But Josiah hesitated. Then, to the great amusement of all, Aunt Indiana
+rose to the ceiling, bent her generously bonneted head, stretched forth
+her arm, and said:
+
+"He is quite right--quite right, Josiah. Is he not, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right," said Josiah.
+
+"People do not talk about what is continuous--what goes right along. Am
+I not right, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right! quite right!"
+
+"If a man tells me he is honest, he is not honest. If he tells me that
+he is pure, he isn't pure. If he were honest or pure he says nothing
+about it. Am I not right, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right! quite right!"
+
+"Nobody tells about his stomach unless it is out of order; and no one
+puts cotton into keyholes unless he himself is peeking through keyholes.
+Am I not right, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right! quite right!"
+
+"And no one asks ye to sign a temperance pledge unless he's been a
+drunkard himself, or thinks ye are one, or likely to be. Ain't I right,
+Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right!"
+
+"The best way to support temperance is to live temperately and say
+nothin' about it. There, now! If I had held my peace, the stones would
+have cried out. Olive Eastman has spoken, and Josiah says that I am
+right, and I'm agin the temperance pledge, and there's nothin' more to
+be said about it."
+
+Aunt Indiana sat down amid much applause. Then Jasper rose, and showed
+that intemperance was a great evil, and that public sentiment should be
+educated against it.
+
+"This education should begin in childhood," he said, "in habits of
+self-respect and self-restraint. The child should be first instructed to
+say "No" to himself."
+
+He proceeded to argue for the temperance pledge from his point of view.
+
+"The world is educated by pledges," he said. "The patriot is kept in his
+line of march by the pledge; the business man makes a pledge when he
+signs a note; and the Christian takes pledges when he joins the Church.
+We should be willing to take any pledge that will make life better. If
+eating meat cause my brother to stumble and offend, then I will not eat
+meat. I will sacrifice myself always to that which will help the world
+and honor God. I am sorry to differ from the good woman who has spoken,
+but I am for the use of the pledge. I never drank strong drink, and this
+hand shall sign any pledge that will help a poor tempted brother by my
+example."
+
+Tall Abraham Lincoln arose.
+
+"There! he's goin' to speak--I knew he'd been preparin'," whispered Aunt
+Indiana to Josiah Crawford. "Wonder what he'll have to say. _You'll_
+have to answer him. He's just a regular Philistine, and goes stalkin'
+through the land, and turns people's heads; and he's just Tom Linkern's
+son, who is shiftless and poor, and I'm goin' agin him."
+
+The tall young man stood silent. The people were silent. Aunt Indiana
+gave her puncheon seat a push to break the force of that silence, and
+whispered to Josiah:
+
+"There! they are all ears. I told ye 'twould be so. You must answer
+him."
+
+Young Lincoln spoke slowly, and after this manner:
+
+"My friends: When you pledge yourself to enforce a principle, you
+identify yourself with that principle, and give it power."
+
+There was a silence. Then the people filled the little room with
+applause. He continued most impressively in the words of grand
+oration:[A]
+
+[Footnote A: We use here some of the exact sentences which young Lincoln
+employed on a similar occasion at Springfield.]
+
+"The universal sense of mankind on any subject is an argument, or at
+least an influence, not easily overcome. The success of the argument in
+favor of the existence of an over-ruling Providence mainly depends upon
+that sense; and men ought not, in justice, to be denounced for yielding
+to it in any case, or giving it up slowly, especially when they are
+backed by interest, fixed habits, or burning appetites.
+
+"If it be true that those who have suffered by intemperance personally
+and have reformed are the most powerful and efficient instruments to
+push the reformation to ultimate success, it does not follow that those
+who have not suffered have no part left them to perform. Whether or not
+the world would be vastly benefited by a total and final banishment from
+it of all intoxicating drinks seems to me not now an open question.
+Three fourths of mankind confess the affirmative with their tongues;
+and, I believe, all the rest acknowledge it in their hearts.
+
+"But it is said by some, that men will think and act for themselves;
+that none will disuse spirits or anything else because his neighbors do;
+and that moral influence is not that powerful engine contended for. Let
+us examine this. Let me ask the man who could maintain this position
+most stiffly, what compensation he will accept to go to church some
+Sunday and sit during the sermon with his wife's bonnet upon his head?
+Not a trifle, I'll venture. And why not? There would be nothing
+irreligious in it, nothing immoral, nothing uncomfortable--then why not?
+Is it not because there would be something egregiously unfashionable in
+it? Then, it is the influence of fashion. And what is the influence of
+fashion but the influence that other people's actions have on our own
+actions--the strong inclination each of us feels to do as we see all our
+neighbors do? Nor is the influence of fashion confined to any particular
+thing or class of things. It is just as strong on one subject as
+another. Let us make it as unfashionable to withhold our names from the
+temperance pledge as for husbands to wear their wives' bonnets to
+church, and instances will be just as rare in the one case as in the
+other."
+
+The people saw the moral point clearly. They felt the force of what the
+young orator had said. No one was willing to follow him.
+
+"Have you anything to say, Mr. Crawford?" said the moderator.
+
+Josiah merely shook his head.
+
+"He don't care to put on his wife's bonnet agin public opinion," said
+the blacksmith.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+THE SCHOOL THAT MADE LINCOLN PRESIDENT.
+
+
+While teaching and preaching in Decatur, Jasper heard of the new village
+of Salem, Illinois, on the Sangamon. He thought that the little town
+might offer him a chance to exert a new influence, and he resolved to
+visit it, and to preach and to teach there for a time should the people
+receive him kindly.
+
+The village was a small one, consisting of a community store, a
+school-house, a tavern, and a few houses; and Jasper knew of only one
+friend there at the time, a certain Mr. Duncan, who lived some two miles
+from the main street and the store.
+
+One afternoon, after a long journey over prairie land, Jasper came to
+Mrs. Duncan's door, and was met cordially by the good woman, and invited
+by her to make his home there for a time.
+
+The family gathered around the story-telling missionary after supper,
+and listened to his tales of the Rhine, all of which had some
+soul-lesson in his view, and enabled him to preach by parables. No
+stories better served this peculiar mission than Baron Fouqué's, and
+this night he related Thiodolf, the Icelander.
+
+There came a rap at the door.
+
+"Who can that be?" said Mrs. Duncan in alarm.
+
+She opened the door, and a tall, dark-faced young man stood before her.
+
+"Why, Abe," said Mrs. Duncan, "what has brought you here at this late
+hour? I hope that nothing has happened!"
+
+"That bill of yours. You paid me two dollars and six cents, did you not?
+It was not right."
+
+"Isn't it? Well, I paid you all that you asked me, like an honest woman,
+so I am not to blame for any mistake. How much more do you want? If it
+isn't too much I'll pay it, for I think that you mean well."
+
+"More! That isn't it, Mrs. Duncan; you paid me six cents too much--you
+overpaid me. It was my fault."
+
+"Your fault!--and honest Abe Lincoln, you have walked two miles out of
+your way to pay me that six cents! Why didn't you wait until to-morrow?"
+
+"I couldn't."
+
+"Why, what is going to happen?"
+
+"I can't sleep with a thing like that on my conscience. Now I feel light
+and free again."
+
+"Come in, if it is late. We've got company--a Tunker--teaches, preaches,
+and works. May be you have met him before. He's been traveling down in
+Indiana and middle Illinois."
+
+Abraham came in, and Jasper rose to receive him.
+
+"Lincoln," said the wandering school-master, "it does my heart good to
+see you. I see that you have grown in body and in soul. What brought you
+here? I have been telling stories for hours. Sit down, and tell us
+about what has happened to you since we met last."
+
+The tall young man sat down.
+
+"He's clark down to Orfutt's store now," said Mrs. Duncan, "and his word
+is as good as gold, and his weights are as true as the scales of the
+Judgment Day. Why, one day he made a wrong weight of half a pound, and
+as soon as he found it out he shut up the shop and went shivering
+through the village with that half-pound of tea as though the powers of
+the air were after him. He's schooled his conscience so that he couldn't
+be dishonest if he were to try. I do believe a dishonorable act would
+wither him and drive him crazy."
+
+"Character, which is the habit of obedience to the universal law of
+right, is the highest school of life," said Jasper. "That is what I try
+to teach everywhere. But Abraham has heard me say that before. Where
+have you been since I saw you last? Tell me, what has been your school
+of life?"
+
+"I have been to New Orleans in a flat-boat. I went for Mr. Orfutt, who
+now keeps the store in this place. When I came back he gave me a place
+in his store here. I have been here ever since."
+
+"What did you see in New Orleans?"
+
+"Slavery--men sold in the market like cattle. Jasper, it made me long to
+have power--to control men and congresses and armies. If I only had the
+power, I would strike that institution hard. I said that to John Hanks,
+and he thought that slavery wasn't in any danger from anything that I
+would be likely to do. It don't look so, does it, elder? I have one
+vote, and I shall always cast that against wrong as long as I live. That
+is my right to do.
+
+"Elder, listen. I want to tell you what I saw there one day, in a
+slave-pen. I saw a handsome young girl, with white blood in her, brought
+forward by a slave-driver and handled and struck with a whip like a
+horse. I had heard of such things before, but it did not seem possible
+that they could be true. Then I saw the same girl sold at auction, and
+purchased by a man who carried the face of a brute. When she saw who had
+purchased her, she wrung her hands and cried, but she was helpless and
+hopeless; and I turned my face toward the sky and vowed to give my soul
+against a system like that. I'm a Free-Soiler in my heart, and I have
+faith that right is might, and that the right in this matter will one
+day prevail."
+
+Jasper remained with Mrs. Duncan for some days, and then formed a small
+school in the neighborhood, on the road to the town of Springfield,
+Illinois.
+
+While teaching here he could not but notice the growth of Orfutt's clerk
+in the confidence of all the people. In all the games, he was chosen
+umpire or referee; in most cases of dispute he was consulted, and his
+judgment was followed. Long before he became a lawyer, people were
+accustomed to say, in a matter of casuistry:
+
+"Take the case to Lincoln. He will give an opinion that will be fair."
+
+Amid this growing reputation for character, a test happened which showed
+how far this moral education and discipline had gone.
+
+A certain Henry McHenry, a popular man, had planned a horse-race, and
+applied to young Lincoln to go upon the racing stand as judge.
+
+"The people have confidence in you," he said to Lincoln.
+
+"I must not, and I will not do it," said Lincoln. "This custom of racing
+is wrong."
+
+The man showed him that he was under a certain obligation to act as
+judge on this occasion.
+
+"I will do it," he said; "but be it known to all that I will never
+appear at a horse-race again; and were I to become a lawyer, I would
+never accept a case into which I could not take an honest conscience, no
+matter what the inducements might be."
+
+There was a school-master in New Salem who knew more than the honest
+clerk had been able to learn. This man, whose name was Graham, could
+teach grammar.
+
+Abraham went to him one day, and said:
+
+"I have a notion to study grammar."
+
+"If you ever expect to enter public life, you should do so," said Mr.
+Graham. "Why not begin now and recite to me?"
+
+"Where shall I secure a book?" asked the student of this hard college of
+the wood.
+
+"There is a man named Vaner, who lives six miles from here, who has a
+grammar that I think he will be willing to sell."
+
+"If it be possible, I will secure it," said Lincoln.
+
+He made a long walk and purchased the book, and so made a
+grammar-school, a class of one, of his leisure moments in Orfutt's
+store.
+
+While he thus was studying grammar, the men whom he thirty or more years
+afterward made Cabinet ministers, generals, and diplomats were enjoying
+the easy experiences of schools, military academies, and colleges. Not
+one of them ever dreamed of such an experience of soul-building and
+mind-building as this; and some of them, had they met him then, would
+have felt that they could not have invited him to their homes. Orfutt's
+store and that one grammar were not the elms of Yale, or the campus of
+Harvard, or the great libraries or bowery streets of English Oxford or
+Cambridge. Yet here grew and developed a soul which was to tower above
+the age, and hold hands with the master spirits not only of the time but
+the ages.
+
+Years passed, and one day that sad-faced boy, who was always seeking to
+make others cheerful amid the clouds of his own gloom, stood before a
+grim council of war. He had determined to call into the field of arms
+five hundred thousand men.
+
+"If you do that thing," said a leader of the council, "you can not
+expect to be elected again President of the United States."
+
+The dark form rose to the height of a giant and poured forth his soul,
+and he said:
+
+"It is not necessary for me to be re-elected President of the United
+States, but it is necessary for the soldiers at the front to be
+re-enforced by five hundred thousand men, and I shall call for them; and
+if I go down under the act, I will go down like the Cumberland, with my
+colors flying."
+
+It required a high school of experience to train a soul to an utterance
+like that; and that fateful declaration began in those moral syllables
+that defended the rights of the animals of the woods, that said "No" to
+a horse-race, that refused from the first to accept an unjust case at
+law, and that from the first declared that right is might.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+THOMAS LINCOLN MOVES.
+
+
+Jasper taught school for a time in Boonesville, Indiana, and preached in
+the new settlements along the Wabash. While at Boonesville, he chanced
+to meet young Lincoln at the court house, under circumstances that
+filled his heart with pity.
+
+It was at a trial for murder that greatly excited the people. The lawyer
+for the defense was John Breckinridge, a man of great reputation and
+ability.
+
+Jasper saw young Lincoln among the people who had come to hear the great
+lawyer's plea, and said to him:
+
+"You have traveled a long distance to be here to-day."
+
+"Yes," said the tall young man. "There is nothing that leads one to seek
+information of the most intelligent people like a debating society. We,
+who used to meet to discuss questions at Jones's store, have formed a
+debating society, and I want to learn all I can of law for the sake of
+justice, and I owed it to myself and the society not to let this great
+occasion pass. I have walked fifteen miles to be here to-day. Did you
+know that father was thinking of moving to Illinois?"
+
+"No. Will you go with him?"
+
+"Yes, I shall go with him and see him well settled, and then I shall
+strike out for myself in the world. Father hasn't the faculty that
+mother has, you know. I can do some things better than he, and it is the
+duty of one member of the family to make up when he can for what another
+member lacks. We all have our own gifts, and should share them with
+others. I can split rails faster than father can, and do better work at
+house-building than he, and I am going with him and do for him the best
+I can at the start. I shall seek first for a roof for him, and then a
+place for myself."
+
+The great lawyer arrived. The doors of the court-house were open, and
+the people filled the court-room.
+
+The plea was a masterly one, eloquent and dramatic, and it thrilled the
+young soul of Lincoln. Full of the subject, the young debater sought Mr.
+Breckinridge after the court adjourned, and extended his long arm and
+hand to him.
+
+The orator was a proud man of an aristocratic family, and thought it the
+proper thing to maintain his dignity on all occasions. He looked at the
+boy haughtily, and refused to take his hand.
+
+"I thank you," said Lincoln. "I wish to express my gratitude."
+
+"Sir!"
+
+With a contemptuous look Breckinridge passed by, and the slight filled
+the heart of the young man with disappointment and mortification. The
+two met again in Washington in 1862. The backwoods boy whose hand the
+orator had refused to take had become President of the United States. He
+extended his hand, and it was accepted.
+
+"Sir," said the President, "that plea of yours in Boonesville, Indiana,
+was one of the best that I ever heard."
+
+"In Boonesville, Indiana?"
+
+How like a dream to the haughty lawyer the recollection must have been!
+Such things as this hurt Lincoln to the quick. He was so low-spirited at
+times in his early manhood that he did not dare to carry with him a
+pocket-knife, lest he should be overcome in some dark and evil moment to
+end his own life. There were times when his tendencies were so alarming
+that he had to be watched by his friends. But these dark periods were
+followed by a great flow of spirits and the buoyancy of hope.
+
+In the spring of 1830, Jasper and Waubeno came to Gentryville, and there
+met James Gentry, the leading man of the place.
+
+"Are the Linkens still living in Spencer County?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Gentry, "but it has been a hard winter here, and they
+are about to move. The milk sickness has been here again and has carried
+off the cattle, and the people have become discouraged, and look upon
+the place as unhealthy. I have bought Thomas Linken's property. The man
+was here this morning. You will find him getting ready to go away from
+Indiana for good and all."
+
+"Where is he going?" asked Jasper.
+
+"Off to Illinois."
+
+"So I thought," said Jasper. "I must go to see him. How is that bright
+boy of his?"
+
+"Abe?"
+
+"Yes. I like that boy. I am drawn toward him. There is something about
+him that doesn't belong to many people--a spiritual graft that won't
+bear any common fruit. I can see it with my spiritual eye, in the open
+vision, as it were. You don't understand those things--I see you don't.
+I must see him. There are not many like him in soul, if he is ungainly
+in body. I believe that he is born to some higher destiny than other
+men. I see that you do not understand me. Time will make it plain."
+
+"I'm a trader, and no prophet, and I don't know much about such matters
+as these. But Abe Linken, he's grown up now, and _up_ it is, more than
+six feet tall. He's a giant, a great, ungainly, awkward, clever, honest
+fellow, full of jokes and stories, though down at times, and he wouldn't
+do a wrong thing if it were for his right hand, and couldn't do an
+unkind one. He comes up to the store here often and tells stories, and
+sometimes stays until almost midnight, just as he used to do at Jones's.
+Everybody likes him here, and we shall all miss him when he goes away."
+
+Jasper and Waubeno left the little Indiana town, and went toward the
+cabin of the Lincolns. On the way Jasper turned aside to pay a short
+visit to Aunt Olive.
+
+The busy woman saw the preacher from her door, and came out to welcome
+him.
+
+"I knew it was you," was her salutation, "and I am right glad that you
+have come. It has been distressin' times in these parts. Folks have
+died, and cattle have died, and we're all poor enough now, ye may
+depend. Where are ye goin'?"
+
+"To see the Lincolns."
+
+"Sho'! goin' to see them again. Well, ye're none too soon. They're
+gettin' ready to move to Illinois. Thomas Linken's always movin.' Moved
+four times or more already, and I 'magine he'll just keep movin' till he
+moves into his grave, and stops for good. He just lives up in the air,
+that man does. He always is imaginin' that it rains gold in the _next_
+State or county, but it never rains anythin' but rain where he is; and
+if it rained puddin' and sugar-cane, his dish would be bottom upward,
+sure. Elder, what does make ye take such an interest in that there
+family?"
+
+"Mrs. Lincoln is a very good woman, an uncommon one; and Abraham--"
+
+"Yes, elder, I knew ye were goin' to say somethin' good of Abraham. Yer
+heart is just set on that boy. I could see it when ye were here. I
+remember all that ye prophesied about him. I ain't forgot it. Well, I am
+a very plain-spoken woman. Ye ain't much of a prophet, in my opinion. He
+hain't got anywhere yet--now, has he? He's just a great, tall, black,
+jokin' boy; awful lazy, always readin' and talkin'; tellin' stories and
+makin' people laugh, with his own mind as blue as my indigo-bag behind
+it all. That is just what he is, elder, and he'll never amount to
+anythin' in this world or any other. It's all just as I told ye it would
+be. There, now, elder, that's as true as preachin', and the plain facts
+of the case. You wait and see. Time tells the truth."
+
+"His opportunity is yet to come; and when it does, he will have the
+heart and mind to fill it," said Jasper. "A soul that is true to what is
+best in life, becomes a power among men at last--it is spiritual
+gravitation. 'Tis current leads the river. You do not see."
+
+"No, I do not understand any such things as those; but when you've been
+over to see the Linkens, you come back here, and I'll make ye some more
+doughnuts. Come back, won't ye, and bring yer Indian boy? I'm a plain
+woman, and live all alone, and I do love to hear ye talk. It gives me
+somethin' to think about after ye're gone; and there ain't many
+preachers that visit these parts."
+
+Jasper moved on under the great trees, and came to the simple Lincoln
+cabin.
+
+"You have come back, elder," said Thomas Lincoln. "Travelin' with your
+Indian boy? I'm glad to see you, though we are very poor now. We're
+goin' to move away--we and some other families. We're all off to
+Illinois. You've traveled over that kentry, preacher?"
+
+"Yes, I've been there."
+
+"Well, what do you think of the kentry?"
+
+"It is a wonderful country, Mr. Lincoln. It can produce grain enough to
+feed the world. The earth grows gold. It will some day uplift cities--it
+will be rich and happy. I like the prairie country well."
+
+"There! let me tell my wife.--Mother, here's the preacher. What do you
+think he says about the prairie kentry? Says the earth grows gold."
+
+Poor Mrs. Lincoln looked sad and doubtful. She had heard such things
+before. But she welcomed Jasper heartily, and the three, with Waubeno,
+sat down to a meal of plain Indian pudding and milk, and talked of the
+sorrowful winter that had passed and the prospects of a better life
+amid the flowery prairies of Illinois.
+
+A little dog played around them while they were thus eating and talking.
+
+"It is not our dog," said Mrs. Lincoln, "but he has taken a great liking
+to Abraham. The boy is away now, but he will be back by sundown. The dog
+belongs to one of the family, and is always restless when Abraham has
+gone away. Abraham wants to take him along with us, but it seems to me
+that we've got enough mouths to feed without him. We are all so poor!
+and I don't see what good he would do. But if Abraham says so, he will
+have to go."
+
+"How is Abraham?" asked Jasper.
+
+"Oh, he is well, and as good to me as ever, and he studies hard, just as
+he used to do."
+
+"And is as lazy as ever," said Thomas Lincoln. "At the lazy folks' fair
+he'd take the premium."
+
+"You shouldn't say that," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Just think how good he was
+to everybody during the sickness! He never thought of himself, but just
+worked night and day. His own mother died of the same sickness years
+ago, and he's had a feelin' heart for the sufferers in this calamity. I
+tell you, elder, that he's good to everybody, and if he does not take
+hold to work in the way that father does, his head and heart are never
+idle. I am sorry that he and father do not see more alike. The boy is
+goin' to do well in the world. He begins right."
+
+When Abraham returned, there was one heart that was indeed glad to see
+him. It was the little dog. The animal bounded heels over head as soon
+as he heard the boy's step, and almost leaped upon his tall shoulder as
+he met him.
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Lincoln.
+
+"Animals know who are good to them," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Abraham, here
+is the preacher."
+
+How tall, and dark, and droll, and yet how sad, the boy looked! He was
+full grown now, uncouth and ungainly. Who but Jasper would have seen
+behind the features of that young, sinewy backwoodsman the soul of the
+leader and liberator?
+
+It was a busy time with the Lincolns. Their goods were loaded upon a
+rude and very heavy ox-wagon, and the oxen were given into the charge of
+young Abraham to drive.
+
+The young man's voice might have been heard a mile as he swung his whip
+and called out to the oxen on starting. They passed by the grave under
+the great trees where his poor mother's body lay and left it there,
+never to be visited again. There were some thirteen persons in the
+emigrant party.
+
+Emigrant wagons were passing toward Illinois, the "prairie country," as
+it was called, over all the roads of Indiana. The "schooners," as these
+wagons were called, were everywhere to be seen on the great prairie sea.
+It was the time of the great emigration. Jasper had never dreamed of a
+life like this before. He looked into one prairie wagon, whose young
+driver had gone for water. He turned to Waubeno, and said:
+
+"What do you think I saw?"
+
+"Guns to destroy the Indians; trinkets and trifles to cheat us out of
+our lands; whisky for tent-making."
+
+"No, Waubeno. There was an old grandmother there, a sick woman, and a
+little coffin. This is a sad world sometimes. I pity everybody, and I
+would that all men were brothers. Go, look into the wagon, Waubeno."
+
+The Indian went, and soon returned.
+
+"Do you pity them, Waubeno?"
+
+"Yes; but--"
+
+"What, Waubeno?"
+
+"I pity the Indian mother too. Your people drove her from her
+corn-fields at Rock Island, and she left the graves of her children
+behind her."
+
+There was a shadow of sadness in the hearts of the Lincoln family as
+they turned away forever from the grave of Nancy Lincoln under the
+trees. The poor woman who rested there in the spot soon to be
+obliterated, little thought on her dying bed that the little boy she was
+leaving to poverty and adventure would be one day ranked with great men
+of the ages--with Servius Tullius, Pericles, Cincinnatus, Cromwell,
+Hampden, Washington, and Bolivar; that he would sit in the seat of a
+long line of illustrious Presidents, call a million men to arms, or that
+his rude family features would find a place among the grand statues of
+every liberated country on earth.
+
+Poor Nancy Hanks! Every one who knew her had felt the warmth of her
+kindness and marked her sadness. She was an intellectual woman, was
+deeply religious, and is believed to have been a very emotional
+character in the old Methodist camp-meetings. Her family, the Hankses,
+were among the best singers and loudest shouters at the camp-meetings,
+and she was in sympathy with them.
+
+Her heart lived on in Abraham. When she fell sick of the epidemic fever,
+Abraham, then a boy of ten years of age, waited upon her and nursed
+her. There was no doctor within twenty-five miles. She was so slender,
+and had been so ill-sustained that the fever-fires did their work in a
+week. Finding her end near, she called Abraham and his little sister to
+her, and said:
+
+"Be good to one another."
+
+Her face looked into Abraham's for the last time.
+
+"Live," she said, "as I have taught you. Love your kindred, and worship
+God."
+
+She faded away, and her husband made her coffin with a whip-saw out of
+green wood, and on a changing October day they laid her away under the
+trees. They were leaving her grave now, the humblest of all places then,
+but a shrine to-day, for her son's character has glorified it.
+
+He must have always remembered the hymns that she used to sing. Some of
+them were curious compositions. In the better class of them were; "Am I
+a soldier of the cross," "Alas! and did my Saviour bleed," and "How
+tedious and tasteless the hour." The camp-meeting melodies were simple,
+mere movements, like the negro songs.
+
+Abraham swung his whip lustily over the oxen's heads on that long spring
+journey, and directed the way. The wheels of the cart were great
+rollers, and they creaked along. Here and there the roads were muddy,
+but the sky was blue above, and the buds were swelling, and the birds
+were singing, and the little dog that belonged to the party kept close
+to his heels, and the poor people journeyed on under the giant timber,
+and out of it at times along the ocean-like prairies of the Illinois.
+The world was before them--an expanse of forest and prairie that in
+fifty years were to be changed by the axe and plowshare into prosperous
+farms and homesteads, and settled by the restless nations of the world.
+
+The journey was long. There were spells of wintry weather, for the
+spring advanced by degrees even here. Streams overflowing their banks
+lay across their way, and these had to be forded.
+
+One morning the party came to a stream covered with thin ice. The oxen
+and horses hesitated, but were forced into the cold water. After a
+dreary effort the hardy pilgrims passed over and mounted the western
+bank. A sharp cry was heard on the opposite side.
+
+"You have left the dog, Abe," said one. "Good riddance to him! I am glad
+that we are quit of him at last."
+
+The dog's pitiable cry rang out on the crisp, cool air. He was barking
+_to_ Abraham, and the teamster's heart recognized that the animal's call
+was to him.
+
+"See him run, and howl!" said another. "Whip up, Abe, and we will soon
+be out of sight."
+
+Young Lincoln looked behind. The little animal would go down to the
+water, and try to swim across, but the broken ice drove him back. Then
+he set up a cry, as much as to say:
+
+"Abe, Abe, you will not leave me!"
+
+"Drive on," said one of the men. "He'll take care of himself. He'd no
+business to lag behind. What do we want of the dog, anyway?"
+
+The animal cried more and more piteously and lustily.
+
+"Whoa!" said Lincoln.
+
+"What are you going to do, Abe?"
+
+"To do as I would be done by. I can't stand that."
+
+Lincoln plunged into the frozen water and waded across. The dog,
+overjoyed, leaped into his arms. Lincoln returned, having borne the
+little dog in his arms across the stream. He was cold and dripping, and
+was censured for causing a needless delay. But he had a happy face and
+heart.
+
+Referring to this episode of the journey a long time afterward, Lincoln
+said to a friend:
+
+"I could not endure the idea of abandoning even a dog. Pulling off shoes
+and socks, I waded across the stream, and triumphantly returned with the
+shivering animal under my arms. His frantic leaps of joy, and other
+evidences of gratitude, repaid me for all the exposure I had
+undergone."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+MAIN-POGUE.
+
+
+Jasper taught for a time near New Salem, then made again his usual
+circuit, after which he made his home for a time at Springfield,
+Illinois. When Jasper was returning from this last circuit of his
+self-appointed mission the Black Hawk war had begun again. He came one
+day, after long wanderings, to Bushville, in Schuyler County, Illinois,
+and found the place in a state of great excitement. The town was filling
+with armed men, and among them were many faces that he had seen at New
+Salem, when Waubeno was his companion.
+
+He recognized a Mr. Green, whom he had known in New Salem, and said to
+him:
+
+"My friend, what does this armed gathering mean?"
+
+"Black Hawk has crossed the Mississippi and is making war on the
+settlers. The Governor has called for volunteers to defend the State."
+
+"What has led to this new outbreak?" said Jasper, although few knew the
+cause better than he.
+
+"Oh, sentiment--Indian sentiment. Black Hawk wants the old Indian town
+on the bluff again. He says it is sacred to his race; that his
+ancestors are buried there, and that there is no place like it on earth,
+or none that can take its place in his soul. He claims that the chiefs
+had been made drunk by the white men when they signed the treaty that
+gave up the town; that he never sold his fathers' graves. His heart is
+full of revenge, and he and all his tribe cling to that old Sac village
+with the grasp of death."
+
+"The trouble has been gathering long?"
+
+"Yes. The settlers came up, under the treaty, to occupy the best lands
+around the Sac town and compel the Indians to live west of the
+Mississippi. Then the Indians and settlers began to dispute and quarrel.
+The settlers brought whisky, and Black Hawk demanded that it should not
+be sold to his people. He violently entered a settler's claim, and stove
+in a barrel of whisky before the man's eyes. Then the Indians went over
+the Mississippi sullenly, and left their cabins and corn-fields. But
+hard weather came, and the women would come back to the old corn-fields,
+which they had planted the year before, to steal corn. They said that
+the corn was theirs, and that they were starving for their own food.
+Some of them were killed by the settlers. Black Hawk had become enraged
+again. He has been trying to get the Indian tribes to unite and kill all
+of the whites. He has violated the old Indian treaty, and is murdering
+people on every hand, and the Governor has asked for volunteers to
+protect the lives and property of the settlers. He had to do it. Either
+the whites or the Indians must perish. The settlers came here under a
+legal treaty; they must be protected. It is no time for sentiment now."
+
+"Are nearly all of the men of New Salem here?" said Jasper.
+
+"Yes; Abraham Lincoln was the first to enlist, and he is our leader. He
+ought to be a good Indian fighter. His grandfather was killed by the
+Indians."
+
+"So I have heard."
+
+"But Lincoln himself is not a hard man; there's nothing revengeful about
+him. He would be more likely to do a good act to an Indian than a
+harmful one, if he could. His purpose is not to kill Indians, but to
+protect the State and save the lives of peaceful, inoffensive people."
+
+The men from the several towns in the vicinity gathered in the open
+space, and proceeded to elect their officers.
+
+The manner of the election was curious. There were the two candidates
+for captain of the company. They were Abraham Lincoln and a man by the
+name of Fitzpatrick. Each volunteer was asked to put himself in the line
+by the side of the man of his choice.
+
+One by one they stepped forward and arranged themselves by the side of
+Lincoln, until Lincoln stood at the head of a larger part of the men.
+
+"Captain Lincoln!" said one, when he saw how the election was going.
+"Three cheers for Honest Abe! He is our man."
+
+There arose a great shout of "Captain Lincoln!"
+
+Jasper marked the delight which the election had given his old New Salem
+friends. Lincoln himself once said that that election was the proudest
+event of his life.
+
+The New Salem Company went into camp at Beardstown, and was disbanded
+at Ottawa thirty days after, not having met the enemy. Lincoln, feeling
+that he should be true to his country and the public safety at the hour
+of peril, enlisted again as a common private, served another thirty
+days, and then, the war not being over, he enlisted again. The war
+terminated with the battle of Bad Axe and the capture of Black Hawk, who
+became a prisoner of state.
+
+One day, when the volunteers were greatly excited by the tales of Indian
+murders, and were beset by foes lurking in ambush and pirogue, a
+remarkable scene occurred in Lincoln's camp.
+
+The men, who had been talking over a recent massacre by the Indians,
+were thirsting to avenge the barbarities, when suddenly the withered
+form of an Indian appeared before them.
+
+They started, and an officer demanded:
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"Main-Pogue."
+
+"How came you here?"
+
+"I am a friend to the white man. I'm going to meet my son, a boy whom I
+have made my own."
+
+"You are a spy!"
+
+"I am not a spy. I am Main-Pogue. I am hungry; I am old. I am no spy.
+Give an old Indian food, and I will serve you while you need. Then let
+me go and find my boy."
+
+"Food!" said one. "You are a spy, a plotter. There is murder in your
+heart. We will make short work with you. That is what we are sent out to
+do."
+
+"I never did the white man harm," said the old man, drawing his blanket
+around him.
+
+"You shall pay for this, you old hypocrite!" said another officer. "Men,
+what shall we do with this spy?"
+
+"Kill him!" said one.
+
+"Shoot him!" said another.
+
+"Torture him, and make him confess!" said a third.
+
+The old Indian stood bent and trembling.
+
+"I am a wandering beggar, looking for my boy," said the Indian. "I never
+did the white man harm. Hear me."
+
+"You belong to Black Hawk's devils," said an officer, "and you are
+plotting our death. You shall be shot. Seize him!"
+
+The old Indian trembled as the men surrounded him bent on his
+destruction.
+
+There came toward the excited company a tall young officer. All eyes
+were bent upon him. He peered into the face of the old Indian. The men
+rushed forward to obey the officer.
+
+"Halt!" said the tall captain. "This Indian must not be killed by us."
+
+That speaker was Abraham Lincoln. The men jeered at him, but he stood
+between the Indian and them, like a form of iron.
+
+The Indian gave his protector a grateful look, and there dropped from
+his hand a passport, which in his confusion he had failed to give the
+officer. It was a certificate saying that he had rendered good service
+to the Government, and it was signed by General Cass.
+
+"Why should you wish to save him?" asked a volunteer of young Lincoln.
+"Your grandfather was killed by an Indian. You are a coward!"
+
+"I would do what is right by any man," said Lincoln, fiercely. "Who says
+I am a coward? I will meet him here in an open contest. Now, let the man
+who says I am a coward meet me face to face and hand to hand."
+
+He stood over the cowering Indian, dark, self-confident and defiant.
+
+"I stand for justice. Let him come on. I stand alone for right. Let him
+come on.--Main-Pogue, go!"
+
+Out of the camp hobbled the Indian, with the long, strong arm of Abraham
+Lincoln lifted over him. The eyes of the men followed him in anger,
+disappointment, and scorn. Hard words passed from one to the other. He
+felt for the first time in his life that he stood in this matter utterly
+alone.
+
+"Jeer on," he said. "I would shield this Indian at the cost of my life.
+I would not be a true soldier if I failed in my duty to this old man. In
+every event of life it is right that makes might; and the rights of an
+Indian are as sacred as those of any other man, and I would defend them,
+at whatever cost, as those of a white man.--Main-Pogue, go hence! Here
+will I stand between you and death."
+
+"Heaven bless you for protecting a poor old man! I have been a runner
+for the whites for many years, but I have never met a man like you. I
+will tell my boy of this. Your name is Lincoln?"
+
+"Yes--Abraham Lincoln, though the name matters nothing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE FOREST COLLEGE.
+
+
+"Well, how time flies, and the clock of the year does go round! Here's
+the elder again! It's a bright day that brings ye here, though I
+shouldn't let ye sleep in the prophet's chamber, if I had one, 'cause ye
+ain't any prophet at all. But ye are right welcome just the same. Where
+is yer Indian boy?"
+
+"He's gone to his own people, Aunt Olive."
+
+"To whet his tommyhawk, I make no doubt. Oh, elder, how ye have been
+deceived in people! Ye believe that every one is as good as one can be,
+or can be grafted to bear sweet fruit, but, hoe-down-hoe, elder, 'taint
+so. Yer Aunt Indiana knows how desperately wicked is the human heart. If
+ye don't do others, others will do ye, and this world is a warfare. Come
+in; I've got somethin' new to tell ye. It's about the Linkens' Abe."
+
+The Tunker entered the cheerful cabin in the sunny clearing of the
+timber.
+
+"I've been savin' up the news to tell ye when ye came. Abe's been to
+war!"
+
+"He has not been hurt, has he?"
+
+"_Hurt!_ No, he hasn't been hurt. A great Indian fighter he proved! The
+men were all laughin' about it. He'll live to fight another day, as the
+sayin' goes, and so will the enemy. Well, I always thought that there
+was no need of killin' people. Let them alone, and they will all die
+themselves; and as for the enemy, let them alone, and they will come
+home waggin' their tails behind them, as the ditty says. Well, I must
+tell ye. Abe's been to war. He didn't see the enemy, nor fight, nor
+nothin'. But a wild Indian came right into his camp, and the soldiers
+started up to kill him, and what do ye suppose Abe did?"
+
+"I think he did what he thought to be right."
+
+"He let him go! There! what do you think of that? He just went to
+fightin' his own company to save the Indian. There's a warrior for ye!
+And that wasn't all. He talked in such a way that he frightened his own
+men, and he just gave the Indian some bread and cheese, and let him off.
+And the Indian went off blessin' him. Abe will never make a soldier or
+handle armies much, after all yer prophecies. Such a soldier as that
+ought to be rewarded a pinfeather."
+
+"His conduct was after the Galilean teaching--was it not?--and produced
+the result of making the Indian a friend. Was not that a good thing to
+do? Who was the Indian?"
+
+"It was old Main-Pogue. He was uncle, or somethin', to that boy who used
+to travel about with you, teachin' you the language--Waubeno; the old
+interpreter for General Cass's men. He'll go off and tell Waubeno. I
+wonder if Main-Pogue knew who it was that saved him, and if he will tell
+Waubeno that?"
+
+"Lincoln did a noble act."
+
+"Oh, elder, ye've got a good heart, but ye're weak in yer upper story.
+That ain't all I've got to tell ye. Abe has failed, after all yer
+prophecies, too. He and another man went to keepin' store up in New
+Salem, and he let his partner cheat him, and they _failed_; and now he's
+just workin' to pay up his debts, and his partner's too."
+
+"And his partner's too? That shows that he saved an honest purpose out
+of losses. The greatest of all losses is a loss of integrity of purpose.
+I'm glad to hear that he has not lost that."
+
+"Oh, elder, ye've allus somethin' good to say of that boy. But I'm not
+agin him. He's Tom Linken's son, just as I told ye; and he'll never come
+to anythin' good. He all runs to books and gabble, and goes 'round
+repeatin' poetry, which is only the lies of crazy folks. I haven't any
+use for poetry, except hymns. But he's had real trouble of late, besides
+these things, and I'm sorry for that. He's lost the girl what he was
+goin' to marry. She was a beautiful girl, and her death made him so
+downhearted that they had to shut him up and watch him to keep him from
+committin' suicide. They say that he has very melancholy spells. He
+can't help that, I don't suppose. His mother what sleeps over yonder
+under the timber was melancholy. How are all the schools that you set to
+goin' on the Wabash?"
+
+"They are all growing, good woman, and it fills my heart with delight to
+see them grow. They are all growing like gardens for the good of this
+great country. It does my heart good, and makes my soul happy, to start
+these Christian schools. It's my mission. And I try to start them
+right--character first, true views of things next, and books last; but
+the teaching of young children to think and act right spiritually is the
+highest education of all. This is best done by telling stories, and so I
+travel and travel telling stories to schools. You do not see my plan,
+but it is the true seed that I am planting, and it will bear fruit when
+I am gone to a better world than this."
+
+"Oh, ye mean well," said Aunt Olive, "but ye don't know more than some
+whole families--pardon my plainness of speech. I don't doubt that ye are
+doin' some good, after a fashion; but don't prophesy--yer prophecies in
+regard to Abe have failed already. He'll never command the American
+army, nor run the nation, nor keep store. Yer Aunt Indiana can read
+character, and her prophecies have proved true so far."
+
+"Wait--time tells the whole truth; and worth is worth, and passes for
+the true gold of life in time."
+
+"Ye don't think that there's any chance for him yet, do ye, elder, after
+lettin' the Indian go, and failin', and havin' that melancholy spell?"
+
+"Yes, I do. My spiritual sense tells me so."
+
+"Yer spiritual sense! Elder, ye ought to go to school. Ye are nothin'
+but a child yerself. And let me advise ye never to have anythin' more to
+do with that there Indian boy. Fishes don't swim on rocks, nor hawks go
+to live in a cage. An Indian is an Indian, and, mark my words, that boy
+will have yer scalp some day. He will, now--he will. I saw it in his
+eye."
+
+The Tunker journeyed toward the new town of Springfield, Illinois, along
+the fragrant timber and over the blooming prairies. Everywhere were to
+be seen the white prairie schooner and the little village of people that
+followed it.
+
+Springfield was but a promising village at this time, in a very fertile
+land. Probably no one ever thought that it would become a capital city
+of an empire of population, the hub of that great wheel of destiny
+rimmed by the Wabash, the Mississippi, Rock River, and the Lake; and
+still less did any one ever dream that it would be the legislative
+influence of that tall, laughing, sad-faced boy, Lincoln, who would
+produce this result.
+
+Jasper preached at Springfield, and visited the log school-house, and
+told stories to the little school. He then started to walk to New Salem,
+a distance of some eighteen or twenty miles.
+
+It was a pleasant country, and all things seemed teeming with life, for
+it was now the high tide of the year. The prairies were billows of
+flowers, and the timber was shady and cool, carpeted with mosses,
+tangled with vines, with its tops bright with sunshine and happy with
+the songs of birds.
+
+About half-way between the two towns Jasper saw some lofty trees, giants
+of the forest, that spread out their branches like roofs of some ancient
+temple. There were birds' nests made of sticks in their tops, and a cool
+stream ran under them. He sought the place for rest.
+
+As he entered the great shadow, he saw a tall young man seated on a log,
+absorbed in reading a book. He approached him, and recognized him as
+young Lincoln.
+
+"I am glad to meet you here, in this beautiful place," he said.
+
+"This is my college," said Lincoln.
+
+"What are you studying, my friend?"
+
+"Oh, I am trying my hand at law a little. Stuart, the Springfield
+lawyer, lends me his law-books, and I walk over there from New Salem to
+get them, and when I get as far back as this I sit down on this log and
+study. I can study when I am walking. I once mastered forty pages of
+Blackstone in a walk. But I love to stop and study on this log. It is
+rather a long walk from New Salem to Springfield--almost twenty
+miles--and when I get as far back as this I feel tired. These trees are
+so grand that they look like a house of Nature, and I call them my
+college. I can't have the privileges of better-off young men, who can go
+to Philadelphia, New York, or Boston to study law, and so I do the best
+I can here. I get discouraged sometimes, but I believe that right is
+might, and do my best, and there is something that is leading me on."
+
+"I am glad to find you here, Abraham Lincoln. I love you in my heart,
+and I wish that I might help you in your studies. But I have never
+studied law."
+
+"But you do help me."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By your faith in me. Elder, I have been having a hard row to hoe, and
+am an unlucky fellow. Have been keeping a grocery, and we have
+failed--failed right at the beginning of life. It hurt my pride, but,
+elder, it has not hurt my honor. I've worked and paid up all my debts,
+and now I am going to pay _his_. I might make excuses for not paying his
+part of the debts, but, elder, it would not leave my name clear. I must
+live conscience free. People call me a fool, but they trust me. They
+have made me postmaster at New Salem, though that ain't much of an
+office. The mail comes only once a week, and I carry it in my hat.
+They'll need a new post-office by and by."
+
+"My friend, you are giving yourself a moral self-education that has more
+worth than all the advantages of wealth or a famous name or the schools
+of Boston. The time will come when this growing people will need such a
+man as you to lead them, and you will lead them more grandly than others
+who have had an easier school. You have learned the first principles of
+true education--it is, the habit that can not do wrong without feeling
+the flames of torment within. Every sacrifice that you have made to your
+conscience has given you power. That power is a godlike thing. You will
+see all one day, as I do now."
+
+"Elder, they call me a merry-maker, but I carry with me a sad heart. I
+wish to tell you, for I feel that you are my true friend. I loved Ann
+Rutledge. She was the daughter of James Rutledge, the founder of our
+village and the owner of the mill on the Sangamon. She was a girl of a
+loving heart, gentle blood, and her face was lovely. You saw her at the
+tavern. I loved her--I loved her very name; and she is dead. It has all
+happened since you were here, and I have wished to meet you again and
+tell you all. Such things as these make me melancholy. A great darkness
+comes down upon me at times, and I am tempted to end all the bright
+dream that we call life. But I rise above the temptation. Elder, you
+don't know how my heart has had to struggle. I sometimes think of my
+poor mother's grave in the timber in Indiana, and I always think of
+_her_ grave--Ann Rutledge's--and then it comes over me like a cloud,
+that there is no place for me in the world. Do you want to know what I
+do in those hours, elder? I repeat a long poem. I have said it over a
+hundred times. It was written by some poet who felt as I do. I would
+like to repeat it to you, elder. I tell stories--they only make me more
+melancholy--but this poem soothes my mind. It makes me feel that other
+men have suffered before, and it makes me willing to suffer for others,
+and to accept my lot in life, whatever it may be."
+
+"I wish to hear the poem that has so moved you," said the Tunker.
+
+Abraham Lincoln stood up and leaned against the trunk of one of the
+giant trees. The sunlight was sifting through the great canopy of
+leaves, boughs, and nests overhead, and afar gleamed the prairies like
+gardens of the sun. He lifted his long arm, and, with a sad face, said:
+
+"Elder, listen.
+
+    "'Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
+    Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
+    A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
+    He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.
+
+    "'The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
+    Be scattered around, and together be laid;
+    And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
+    Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.
+
+    "'The infant a mother attended and loved,
+    The mother that infant's affection who proved,
+    The husband that mother and infant who blest--
+    Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.
+
+    "'[_The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,_
+    _Shone beauty and pleasure, her triumphs are by;_
+    _And the memory of those who loved her and praised,_
+    _Are alike from the minds of the living erased_.]
+
+    "'The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne,
+    The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,
+    The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
+    Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.
+
+    "'The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
+    The herdsman who climbed with his goats up the steep,
+    The beggar who wandered in search of his bread,
+    Have faded away like the grass that we tread.
+
+    "'[The saint who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
+    The sinner who dared to remain unforgiven,
+    The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
+    Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.]
+
+    "'So the multitude goes, like the flower or the weed
+    That withers away to let others succeed;
+    So the multitude comes, even those we behold,
+    To repeat every tale that has often been told.
+
+    "'For we are the same our fathers have been;
+    We see the same sights our fathers have seen;
+    We drink the same stream, we view the same sun,
+    And run the same course our fathers have run.
+
+    "'The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think;
+    From the death we are shrinking our fathers would shrink;
+    To the life we are clinging they also would cling;
+    But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.
+
+    "'They loved, but the story we can not unfold;
+    They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold;
+    They grieved, but no wail from their slumber will come;
+    They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.
+
+    "'They died, ay, they died: we things that are now,
+    That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
+    And make in their dwellings a transient abode,
+    Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.
+
+    "'Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
+    Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
+    And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
+    Still follow each other like surge upon surge.
+
+    "''Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
+    From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
+    From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud--
+    Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?'"
+
+He stood there in moody silence when he had finished the recitation,
+which was (unknown to him) from the pen of a pastoral Scotch poet. The
+Tunker looked at him, and saw how deep were his feelings, and how
+earnest were his desires to know the true way of life and to do well his
+mission, and go on with the great multitude, whose procession comes upon
+the earth and vanishes from the scenes. But he did not dream of the
+greatness of the destiny for which that student was preparing in the
+hard college of the woods.
+
+"My education must always be defective," said the young student. "I can
+not read law in great law-offices, like other young men, but I can be
+just--I can do right; and I would never undertake a case of law, for any
+money, that I did not think right and just. I would stand for what I
+thought was right, as I did by the old Indian, and I think that the
+people in time would learn to trust me."
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, to school one's conscience to the habit of right, so
+that it can not do wrong, is the first and the highest education. It is
+what one is that makes him a knight, and that is the only true
+knighthood. The highest education is that of the soul. Did you know that
+the Indian whom you saved was Main-Pogue?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And that Main-Pogue is the uncle and foster-father of my old guide,
+Waubeno?"
+
+"No. Waubeno was the boy who came with you to the Wabash?"
+
+"Waubeno's father was killed by the white people. He was condemned to
+death. He asked to go home to see his family once more, and returned
+upon his honor to die. That old story is true. Does it seem possible
+that an English soldier could ever take the life of an Indian like
+that?"
+
+"No, it does not. Will Main-Pogue tell Waubeno that it was I who saved
+him?"
+
+"Does Main-Pogue know you by name? I hope he does."
+
+"He may have forgotten. I would like for him to remember it, because the
+Indian boy liked me, and an Indian killed my grandfather. I liked that
+Indian boy, and I would do justice, if I could, by all men, and any
+man."
+
+"Lincoln, I came to love and respect that Indian boy. There was a native
+nobility in him. But my efforts to make him a Christian failed, for he
+carried revenge in his heart. I wish that he could know that it was you
+who did that deed; your character might be an influence that would
+strike an unknown cord in the boy's heart, for Waubeno has a noble
+heart--Waubeno is noble. I wish he knew who it was that spared
+Main-Pogue. Acts teach where words fail, and the true teacher is not
+lips, but life. The boy once said to me that he would cease to seek to
+avenge his father's death if he could find a single white man who would
+defend an Indian to his own harm, because it was right. Now, Lincoln,
+you have done just the act that would change his heart. But he has gone
+with the winds. How will he ever hear of it? How will he ever know it?
+
+"When Main-Pogue meets him, if he ever does again, he may tell him all.
+But does Main-Pogue understand the relations that exist between you and
+me, and us and that boy? O Waubeno, Waubeno, I would that you might hear
+of this!"
+
+He thought, and added: "He _will_ hear of it, somehow, in some way.
+Providence makes golden keys of deeds like yours. They unlock the doors
+of mystery. Let me see, what was it Waubeno said--his exact words?
+_'When I find a single white man who defends an Indian to his own hurt,
+because it is right, I will promise.'_ Lincoln, he said that. You are
+that man. Lincoln, may God bless you, and call you into his service when
+he has need of a man!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+MAKING LINCOLN A "SON OF MALTA."
+
+
+When Jasper, some years later, again met Aunt Eastman, she had a yet
+more curious story to tell about Abraham.
+
+It was spring, and the cherry-trees were in bloom and musical with bees.
+In the yard a single apple-tree was red with blooms, which made fragrant
+the air.
+
+"And here comes Johnnie Apple-seed!" said Aunt Olive. "Heaven bless ye!
+I call ye Johnnie Apple-seed because ye remind me so much of that good
+man. He was a good man, if he had lost his wits; and ye mean well, just
+as he did. Smell the apple-blossoms! I don't know but it was _him_ that
+planted that there tree."
+
+To explain Aunt Olive's remarks, we should say that there once wandered
+along the banks of the Ohio, a poor wayfaring man who had a singular
+impression of duty. He felt it to be his calling in life to plant
+apple-seeds. He would go to a farmer's house, ask for work, and remain
+at the place a few days or weeks. After he had gone, apple-seeds would
+be found sprouting about the farm. His journeys were the beginnings of
+many orchards in the Middle, West, and prairie States.
+
+"I love to smell apple-blossoms," said Aunt Olive. "It reminds me of old
+New England. I can almost hear the bells ring on the old New England
+hills when I smell apple-blooms. They say that Johnnie Apple-seed is
+dead, and that they filled his grave with apple-blooms. I don't know as
+it is so, but it ought to be. I sometimes wish that I was a poet,
+because a poet fixes things as they ought to be--makes the world all
+over right. But, la! Abe Linken was a poet. _Have_ ye heard the news?"
+
+"No. What?--nothing bad, I hope?"
+
+"_He's_ hung out his shingle."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"In Springfield."
+
+"In Springfield?"
+
+"Yes, elder, I've seen it. I have traveled a good deal since I saw
+you--'round to camp-meetin', and fairs, rightin' things, and doin' all
+the good I can. I've seen it. And, elder, they've made a mock Mason on
+him."
+
+In the pioneer days of Illinois the making of mock Masons, or _pseudo_
+Sons of Malta, was a popular form of frolic, now almost forgotten. Young
+people formed mock lodges or secret societies, for the purpose of
+initiating new members by a series of tricks, which became the jokes of
+the community.
+
+"Yes," said Aunt Olive, "and what do ye think they did? Well, in them
+societies they first test the courage of those who want to be new
+members. There's Judge Ball, now; when they tested his courage, what do
+you think? They blindfolded him, and turned up his blue jean trousers
+about the ankles, and said, 'Now let out the snakes!' and they took an
+elder-bush squirt-gun and squirted water over his feet; and the water
+was cold, and he thought it was snakes, and he jumped clear up to the
+cross-beams on the chamber floor, and screamed and screamed, and they
+wouldn't have him."
+
+Jasper had never heard of these rude methods of making jokes and odd
+stories in the backwoods.
+
+"What did they do to test Abraham's courage?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know--blindfolded him and dressed him up like a donkey, and led
+him up to a lookin'-glass, and made him promise that he would never tell
+what he saw, and then _on_bandaged his eyes--or something of that kind.
+His courage stood the test. Of course it did; no matter what they might
+have done, no one could frighten Abe. But he got the best o' them."
+
+"How?"
+
+"He took up a collection for a poor woman that he had met on the way,
+and proposed to change the society into a committee for the relief of
+the poor and sufferin'."
+
+"That shows his heart again."
+
+"I knew that you would say that, elder."
+
+"Everything that I hear of Lincoln shows how that his character grows.
+It is my daily prayer that Waubeno may hear of how he saved Main-Pogue.
+It would change the heart of Waubeno. He will know of it some day, and
+then he will fulfill his promise to me."
+
+The Tunker sat down in the door under the blooming cherry-trees, and
+Aunt Olive brought a tray of food, and they ate their supper there.
+
+[Illustration: SARAH BUSH LINCOLN, ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S STEP-MOTHER.
+
+_After photograph taken in 1865._]
+
+Afar stretched the prairies. The larks quivered in the air, happy in the
+May-time, and gurgling with song. In the sunny outlines were seen a
+train of prairie schooners winding over the plain.
+
+These were rude times, when all things were new. Men were purchasing the
+future by hardship and toil. But the two religious enthusiasts presented
+a happy picture as they sat under the cherry-trees and talked of
+camp-meetings, and the inner light, and all they had experienced, and
+ate their frugal meal. Odd though their views and beliefs and habits may
+seem in some respects, each had a definite purpose of good; each lived
+in the horizon of bright prospects here and hereafter, and each was
+happy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+PRAIRIE ISLAND.
+
+
+The beautiful country between Lake Michigan, or old Fort Dearborn, and
+the Mississippi, or Rock Island, was once a broad prairie, a sea of
+flowers, birds, and bright insects. The buffaloes roamed over it in
+great herds, and the buffalo-birds followed them. The sun rose over it
+as over a sea, and the arched aurora rose red above it like some far
+gate of a land of fire. Here the Sacs and Foxes roamed free; the Iowas
+and the tribes of the North. It was one vast sunland, a breeze-swept
+brightness, almost without a dot or shadow.
+
+Almost, but not quite. Here and there, like islands in a summer sea,
+rose dark groves of oak and vines. These spots of refreshment were
+called prairie islands, and in one of these islands, now gone, a pioneer
+colony made their homes, and built a meeting-house, which was also to be
+used as a school-house. Six or more of these families were from
+Germantown, Pennsylvania, and were Tunkers. The other families were from
+the New England States.
+
+To this nameless village, long ago swept away by the prairie fires, went
+Jasper the Parable, with his cobbling-tools, his stories, and his gospel
+of universal love and good-will. The Tunkers welcomed him with delight,
+and the emigrants from New England looked upon him kindly as a good and
+well-meaning man. There were some fifteen or twenty children in the
+settlement, and here the peaceful disciple of Pestalozzi, and friend of
+Froebel, applied for a place to teach, and the school was by unanimous
+consent assigned to him.
+
+So began the school at Prairie Island--a school where the first
+principles of education were perceived and taught, and that might
+furnish a model for many an ambitious institution of to-day.
+
+"It is life that teaches," the Parable used to say, quoting Pestalozzi.
+"The first thing to do is to form the habits that lead to character; the
+next thing is to stamp the young mind with right views of life; then
+comes book-learning--words, figures, and maps--but stories that educate
+morally are the primer of life. Christ taught spiritual truths by
+parables. I teach formative ideas by parables. The teacher should be a
+story-teller. In my own country all children go through fairy-land. Here
+they teach the young figures first, as though all of life was a
+money-market. It is all unnatural and wrong. I must teach and preach by
+stories."
+
+The school-house was a simple building of logs and prairie grass, with
+oiled paper for windows, and a door that opened out and afforded a view
+of the vast prairie-sea to the west. Jasper taught here five days in a
+week, and sang, prayed, and exhorted on Sunday afternoons, and led
+social meetings on Sunday evenings. The little community were united,
+peaceful, and happy. They were industrious, self-respecting people, who
+were governed by their moral sense, and their governing principle
+seemed to be the faith that, if a person desired and sought to follow
+the divine will, he would have a revelation of spiritual light, which
+would be like the opening of the gates of heaven to him. Nearly every
+man and woman had some special experience of the soul to tell; and if
+ever there was a community of simple faith and brotherhood, it was here.
+
+Jasper's school began in the summer, when the sun was high, the cool
+shadows of the oaks grateful, and the bluebells filled the tall, wavy
+grasses, and the prairie plover swam in the air.
+
+Jasper's first teaching was by the telling of stories that leave in the
+young mind right ideas and impressions.
+
+"My children, listen," said the gracious old man, as he sat down to his
+rude desk, "and let me tell you some stories like those Pestalozzi used
+to tell. Still, now!"
+
+He lifted his finger and his eyebrows, and sat a little while in
+silence.
+
+"Hark!" he said. "Hear the birds sing in the trees! Nature is teaching
+us. When Nature is teaching I listen. Nature is a greater teacher than
+I, or any man."
+
+The little school sat in silence and listened. They had never heard the
+birds sing in that way before. Presently there was a hush in the trees.
+
+"Now I will begin," said he.
+
+
+_PESTALOZZI'S STORIES._
+
+"Did you ever see a mushroom? Yes, there are mushrooms under the cool
+trees. Once, in the days when the plants and flowers and trees all
+talked--they talk now, but we have ceased to hear them, a little
+mushroom bowed in the winds, and said to the grass:
+
+"'See how I grow! I came up in a single night. I am smart.'
+
+"'Yes,' said the grass, waving gently.
+
+"'But you,' said the smart little mushroom, 'it takes you a whole year
+to grow.'
+
+"The grass was sorry that it took so long for it to grow, and hung its
+head, and thought, and thought.
+
+"'But,' said the grass, 'you spring up in the night, and in a day or two
+you are gone. It takes me a year to grow, but I outlive a hundred crops
+of mushrooms. I will have patience and be content. Worth is of slow
+growth.'
+
+"In a week the boastful little mushroom was gone, but the grass bloomed
+and bore seed, and left a lovely memory behind it. Hark! hear the breeze
+in the trees! Nature is teaching now. Listen!
+
+"Now I will tell you another little story, such as I used to hear
+Pestalozzi relate. I am going to tell this story to myself, but you may
+listen. I have told a story to you, but now I will talk to myself.
+
+"There once was a king, who had been riding in the sun, and he saw afar
+a lime-tree, full of cool, green leaves. Oh, how refreshing it looked to
+him! So he rode up to the lime-tree, and rested in the shadow.
+
+"The leaves all clung to the branches, and the winds whispered among
+them, but did not blow them away.
+
+"Then the king loved the tree, and he said:
+
+"'O tree, would that my people clung to me as thy leaves do to thy
+branches!'
+
+"The tree was pleased, and spoke:
+
+"'Would you learn from me wisdom to govern thy people?'
+
+"'Yes, O lime-tree! Speak on.'
+
+"'Would you know, then, what makes my leaves so cling to my branches?'
+
+"'Yes, O Lime Tree! Speak on.'
+
+"'I carry to them the sap that nourishes them. 'Tis he that gives
+himself to others that lives in others, and is safe and happy himself.
+Do that, and thy kingdom shall be a lime-tree.'"
+
+A child brought into the room a bunch of harebells and laid them upon
+the teacher's desk.
+
+"Look!" said Jasper, "Nature is teaching. Let us be quiet a little and
+hear what she has to say. The harebells bring us good-will from the sun
+and skies. There is goodness everywhere, and for all. Let us be
+grateful.
+
+"Now I will give you another little Pestalozzian story, told in my own
+way, and you may tell it to your fathers and mothers and neighbors when
+you go home.
+
+"There was once a man who had two little ponies. They were pretty
+creatures, and just alike. He sold one of them to a hard-hearted man,
+who kicked him and beat him; and the pony said:
+
+"'The man is my enemy. I will be his, and become a cunning and vicious
+horse.'
+
+"So the pony became cunning and vicious, and threw his rider and
+crippled him, and grew spavined and old, and every one was glad when he
+was dead.
+
+"The man sold the other pony to a noble-hearted man, who treated him
+kindly and well. Then the pony said:
+
+"'I am proud of my master. I will become a good horse, and my master's
+will shall be my own.'
+
+"Like the master became the horse. He became strong and beautiful. They
+chose him for the battle, and he went through the wars, and the master
+slept by his side. He bore his master at last in a triumphal procession,
+and all the people were sorry when he came to die. Our minds here are
+one of the little colts.
+
+"So we will all work together. The lesson is ended. You have all the
+impressions that you can bear for one day. Now we will go out and play."
+
+But the play-ground was made a field of teaching.
+
+"There are plays that form right ideas," said Jasper, "and plays that
+lead to an evil character. I teach no plays that lead to cruelty or
+deception. I would no sooner withhold amusements from my little ones
+than water, but my amusements, like the water, must be healthy and
+good."
+
+There was one odd play that greatly delighted all the children of the
+Prairie Island school. The idea of it was evolved in the form of a
+popular song many years afterward. In it the children are supposed to
+ask an old German musician how many instruments of music he could play,
+and he acts out in pantomime all of the instruments he could blow or
+handle. We think it was this merriment that became known in America as
+the song of Johnnie Schmoker in the minstrel days.
+
+Not the children only, but the parents also all delighted to see Jasper
+pretend to play all the instruments of the German band. Often at
+sunset, when the settlers came in from the corn-fields and rested under
+the great trees, Jasper would delight the islanders, as they called
+themselves, with this odd play.
+
+"The purpose of education," Jasper used to repeat over and over to his
+friends in this sunny island of the prairie sea, "is not to teach the
+young how to make money or get wealth by a cunning brain, but how to
+live for the soul. The soul's best interests are in life's highest
+interest, and there is no poverty in the world that is like spiritual
+poverty. In the periods of poetry a nation is great; and when poetry
+fails, the birds cease to sing and the flowers to bloom, and divinities
+go away, and the heart turns to stone."
+
+There was one story that he often repeated to his little school. The
+pupils liked it because there was action in it, as in the play-story of
+the German musician. He called it "CHINK, CHINK, CHINK"--though we
+believe a somewhat similar story is told in Germany under the name of
+"The Stone-cold Heart."
+
+He would clasp his hands together and strike them upon his knee, making
+a sound like the jingling of silver coin. Any one can produce this
+curious sound by the same action.
+
+"Chink, chink, chink," he would say. "Do you hear it? Chink, chink,
+chink. Listen, as I strike my hands on my knees. Money? Now I will open
+my hands. There is no money in them; it was fool's gold, all.
+
+"There lived in a great German forest a poor woodman. He was a giant,
+but he had a great heart and a willing arm, and he worked contentedly
+for many years.
+
+"One day he chanced to go with some foresters into the city. It was a
+festival day. He heard the jingle of money, just like that" (striking
+his clasped hands on his knee). "He saw what money would buy. He thought
+it would buy happiness. He did not know that it was fool's gold, all.
+
+"He went back to his little hut in the forest feeling very unhappy. His
+wife kissed him on his return, and his children gathered around him to
+hear him tell the adventures of the day, but his downcast spirit made
+them all sad.
+
+"'What has happened?' asked his wife. 'You always seemed happy until
+to-night.'
+
+"'And I was always happy until to-day. But I have seen the world to-day,
+and now I want that which will buy everything.'
+
+"'And what is that?' asked his wife.
+
+"'Listen! It sounds like that,' and he struck his clasped hands on his
+knee--chink, chink, chink. 'If I had that, I would bring to you and the
+little ones the fine things I saw in the city, and you would be happy.
+You are contented now because you do not know.'
+
+"'But I would rather that you would bring to me a happy face and loving
+heart,' said his wife. 'You know that the Book says that "a man's life
+consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Love
+makes happiness, and gold is in the heart.'
+
+"The forester continued to be sad. He would sit outside of his door at
+early evening and pound his hands upon his knees so--chink, chink,
+chink--and think of the gay city. Then he would strike his hands on his
+knees again. He did not know that it was fool's gold, all.
+
+"He grew more and more discontented with his simple lot. One day he went
+out into the forest alone to cut wood. When he had become tired he sat
+down by a running stream to hear the birds sing and to strike his hands
+on his knees.
+
+"A shadow came gliding across the mosses of the stream. It was like the
+form of a dark man. Slowly it came on, and as it did so the flowers on
+the banks of the stream withered. The woodman looked up, and a black
+giant stood before him.
+
+"'You look unhappy to-day,' said the black giant. 'You did not use to
+look that way. What is wanting?'
+
+"The woodman looked down, clasped his hands, and struck them on his
+knees--chink, chink, chink.
+
+"'Ah, I see--money! The world all wants money. Selfishness could not
+thrive without money. I will give you all the money that you want, on
+one condition.'
+
+"'Name it.'
+
+"'That you will exchange your heart.'
+
+"'What will you give me for my heart?'
+
+"'Your heart is a human heart, a very simple human heart. I will put in
+its place a heart of stone, and then all your wishes shall turn to gold.
+Whatever you wish you shall have.'
+
+"'Shall I be happy?'
+
+"'Happy! Ha, ha, ha! are not people happy who have their wishes?'
+
+"'Some are, and some are happy who give up their wishes and wills and
+desires."
+
+"The woodman leaned his face upon his hands for a while, seemed in
+great doubt and distress. He thought of his wife, who used to say that
+contentment was happiness, and that one could be rich by having a few
+wants. Then he thought of the city. The vision rose before him like a
+Vanity Fair. He clasped his hands again, and struck them on his
+knees--chink, chink, chink--and said, 'I will do it.'
+
+"Suddenly he felt a heart within him as cold as stone. He looked up to
+the giant, and saw that he held his own good, true heart in his hands.
+
+"'I will put it away in a glass jar in my house,' he said, 'where I keep
+the hearts of the rich. Now, listen. You have only to strike your locked
+hands on your knees three times--chink, chink, chink--whenever you want
+for gold, and wish, and you will find your pockets full of money.'
+
+"The woodman struck his palms on his knees and wished, then felt in his
+pockets. Sure enough, his pockets were full of gold.
+
+"He thought of his wife, but his thought was a cold one; he did not love
+her any more. He thought of his little ones, but his thoughts were
+frozen; he did not care to meet them any more. He thought of his
+parents, but he only wished to meet them to excite their envy. The
+stream no longer charmed him, nor the flowers, nor the birds, nor
+anything.
+
+"'I will dissemble,' he said. He hurried home. His wife met him at the
+door. He kissed her. She started back, and said:
+
+"'Your lips are cold as death! What has happened?'
+
+"His children kissed him, but they said:
+
+"'Father, your cheeks are cold.'
+
+"He tried to pray at the meal, but his sense of God was gone; he did not
+love God, or his wife, or his children, or anything any more--he had a
+stone-cold heart.
+
+"After the evening meal he told his wife the events of the day. She
+listened with horror.
+
+"'In parting with your heart you have parted with everything that makes
+life worth having,' said she. But he answered:
+
+"'I do not care. I do not care for anything but gold now. I have a
+stone-cold heart.'
+
+"'But will gold make you happy?' she asked.
+
+"He started. He went forth to work the next day, but he was not happy.
+So day by day passed. His gold did not make his family happy, or his
+friends, or any one, but he would not have cared for all these, for he
+had a stone-cold heart. Had it made him happy? He saw the world all
+happy around him, and heavier and heavier grew his heart, and at last he
+could endure it no longer.
+
+"One day he was sitting in the same place in the woods as before, when
+he saw the shadowy figure stealing along the mosses of the stream again.
+He looked up and beheld the giant, and exclaimed:
+
+"'Give me back my heart!'"
+
+"Have you learned the lesson?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE INDIAN PLOT.
+
+
+One sultry August night a party of Sac and Fox Indians were encamped in
+a grove of oaks opposite Rock Island, on the western side of the
+Mississippi. Among them were Main-Pogue and Waubeno.
+
+The encampment commanded a view of the burial hills and bluffs of the
+abandoned Sac village.
+
+As the shadow of night stole over the warm, glimmering twilight, and the
+stars came out, the lights in the settlers' cabins began to shine; and
+as the Indians saw them one by one, their old resentment against the
+settlers rose and bitter words passed, and an old warrior stood up to
+rehearse his memories of the injustice that his race had suffered in the
+old treaties and the late war.
+
+"Look," he said, "at the eyes of the cabins that gleam from yonder
+shore. The waters roll dark under them, but the lights of the canoes no
+more haunt the rapids, and the women and children may no more sit down
+by the graves of the braves of old. Our lights have gone out; their
+lights shine. Their lights shine on the bluffs, and they twinkle like
+fireflies along the prairies, and climb the cliffs in what was once the
+Red Man's Paradise. Like the fireflies to the night the white settlers
+came.
+
+"Rise up and look down into the water. There--where the stream runs
+dark--they shot our starving women there, for crossing the river to
+harvest their own corn.
+
+"Look again--there where the first star shines. She, the wife of Wabono,
+floated there dead, with the babe on her breast. Here is the son of
+Wabono.
+
+"Son of Wabono, you ride the pony like the winds. What are you going to
+do to avenge your mother? You have nourished the babe; you are good and
+brave; but the moons rise and fall, and the lights grow many on the
+prairie, and the smoke-wreaths many along the shore. Speak, son of
+Wabono."
+
+A tall boy arose, dressed in yellow skins and painted and plumed.
+
+"Father, it is long since the rain fell."
+
+"Long."
+
+"And the prairies are yellow."
+
+"Yellow."
+
+"And they are food for fire."
+
+"Food for fire."
+
+"I would touch them with fire--in the east, in the west, in the north,
+and in the south. The lights will go out in the cabins, and the white
+woman will wander homeless, and the white man will hunger for corn. They
+shot our people for harvesting our corn. I would give their corn-fields
+to the flames, and their families to the famine in the moons of
+storms."
+
+"Waubeno, you have heard Wabono. What would _you_ do?"
+
+"I would punish those only who have done wrong. The white teacher taught
+so, and the white teacher was right."
+
+"Waubeno, you speak like a woman."
+
+"Those people should not suffer for what others have done. You should
+not be made to bear the punishments of others."
+
+"Would you not fire the prairies?"
+
+"No. I may have friends there. The Tunker may be there. He who spared
+Main-Pogue may be there. Would I burn their cabins? No!"
+
+"Waubeno, who was your father?"
+
+"I am the son of Alknomook."
+
+"He died."
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"There was neither pity nor mercy in the white man's heart for him. You
+made your vow to him. What was that vow, Waubeno?"
+
+"To avenge his enemies--not our friends."
+
+"Brothers, listen. The white men grow many, and we are few. In war we
+are helpless--only one weapon remains to us now. It is the
+thunderbolt--it is fire.
+
+"Warriors, listen. The moon grows. Who of you will cross the river and
+ride once more into the Red Man's Paradise, and give the prairies to the
+flames? The torch is all that is left us now."
+
+Every Indian raised his arm except Main-Pogue and Waubeno, and signified
+his desire to unite in the plan for the desolation of the prairies.
+
+"Main-Pogue, will you carry your torch in the night of fire?"
+
+"I have been saved by the hand of a white man, and I will not turn my
+hand against the white man. I could not do it if I were young. But I am
+old--my people are gone. Leave me to fall like the leaf."
+
+"Son of Alknomook, what will you do?"
+
+"I will follow your counsel for my father's sake, but I will spare my
+friends for the sake of the arm that was stretched out over the head of
+Main-Pogue."
+
+"Then you will go."
+
+"I would that I were dead. I would that I could live as the white
+teacher taught me--in peace with every one. I would that I had not this
+blood of fire, and this memory of darkness, and this vow upon my head.
+The white teacher taught me that all people were brothers. My brain
+burns--"
+
+Late in the evening Waubeno went to Main-Pogue and sat down by his side
+under the trees. The river lay before them with its green islands and
+rapid currents, serene and beautiful. The lights had gone out on the
+other shore, and the world seemed strangely voiceless and still.
+
+"How did _he_ look, Waubeno?"
+
+"Who look?"
+
+"That man who saved you--stretched his arm over you."
+
+"His arm was long. His face was as sad as an Indian's; and he was tall.
+He was a head taller than other men; he rose over them like an oak over
+the trees. The men laughed at him; then his face looked as though it was
+set against the people--he looked like a chief--and the men cowered,
+and jeered, and cowered. I can see how he looked, but I can not tell
+it--I can see it in my mind. I told him that I would tell Waubeno, and
+he seemed to know your name. Did you never meet such a man?"
+
+"Yes, in the Indiana country. He was journeyed from the Wabash."
+
+The Indians, after the council we have described, began to cross the
+Mississippi by night, and to make stealthy journeys into the Rock River
+country, once known as the Red Man's Paradise. Rock River is a beautiful
+stream of the prairies. It comes dashing out of a bed of rocks, and runs
+a distance of some two hundred miles to the Mississippi. Here once
+roamed the deer and came the wild cattle in herds. Here rose great
+cliffs, like ruins of castles, which were then, as now, cities of the
+swallows. Eagles built their nests upon them, and wheeled from over the
+flowers of the prairies. The banks in summer were lined with wild
+strawberries and wild sunflowers. Here and there were natural mounds and
+park-like woods, and oaks whose arms were tangled with grapevines.
+
+Into this country ran Black Hawk's trail, and not far from this trail
+was Prairie Island, with its happy settlers and new school. The German
+school-master might well love the place. Margaret Fuller (Countess
+Ossoli) came to the region in 1843, and caught its atmosphere and
+breathed it forth in her Summer in the Lakes. Here, in this territory of
+the Red Man's Paradise, "to me enchanting beyond any I have ever seen,"
+where "you have only to turn up the sod to find arrow-heads," she
+visited the bluff of the Eagles' Nest on the morning of the Fourth of
+July, and there wrote "Ganymede to his Eagle," one of her grandest
+poems.
+
+"How happy," says this gifted soul, "the Indians must have been here! I
+do believe Rome and Florence are suburbs compared to this capital of
+Nature's art."
+
+Black Hawk's trail ran from this region of perfect beauty to the
+Mississippi; and long after the Sacs and Foxes were compelled to live
+beyond the Mississippi, the remnants of the tribes loved to return and
+visit the scenes of the land of their fathers.
+
+The Indians who had plotted the firing of the prairies made two stealthy
+journeys along the Rock River and over the old trail under the August
+moon. In one of these they rode round Prairie Island, and encamped one
+night upon the bluff of the Eagles' Nest, under the moon and stars.
+Waubeno went with them, and gazed with sad eyes upon the scenes that had
+passed forever from the control of his people.
+
+He saw the new cabins and corn-fields, the prairie wagons and the
+emigrants. One evening he passed Prairie Island, and saw the lights
+glimmering among the trees, and heard the singing of a hymn in the
+school-house, where the people had met to worship. He wished that his
+own people might be taught these better ways of living. He reined up his
+pony and listened to the singing. He wished that he might join the
+little company, though he did not know that Jasper was there.
+
+He rode away amid the stacks and corn-fields. He saw that the fields
+were dry as powder.
+
+Out on the prairie he turned and looked back on the lights of the
+settlement as they glimmered among the trees. Could he apply the torch
+to the dry sea of grasses around the peaceful homes?
+
+Once, revenge would have made it a delight to his eyes to see such a
+settlement in flames. But Jasper's teaching had created a new view of
+life and a new conscience. He felt what the Tunker taught was true, and
+that the young soldier who had spared Main-Pogue had done a nobler deed
+than any act of revenge. What was that young man's motive? He pondered
+over these things, and gave his pony a loose rein, and rode on under the
+cool cover of the night under the moon and stars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+FOR LINCOLN'S SAKE.
+
+
+"The prairie is on fire!" So cried a horseman, as he rode by the school.
+
+It was a calm, glimmering September day. Prairie Island rose with red
+and yellow and crisping leaves, like a royal tent amid a dead sea of
+flowers. The prairie grass was dry, though still mingled with a green
+undergrowth. Prairie chickens were everywhere, quails, and plover.
+
+At midday a billowy cloud of smoke began to wall the eastern horizon,
+and it slowly rolled forward, driven by the current of the air.
+
+"O-o-oh!" said one of the scholars! "Look! look! What the man said is
+true--the prairie _is_ on fire!"
+
+Jasper went to the door. The blue sky had turned to an ashy hue, and the
+sun was a dull red. An unnatural wind had arisen like a draft of air.
+
+"Teacher, can we go out and look?" asked several voices.
+
+"Yes," said Jasper, "the school may take a recess."
+
+The pupils went to the verge of the trees, and watched the billowy
+columns of smoke in the distance.
+
+The world seemed to change. The air filled with flocks of frightened
+birds. The sky became veiled, and the sun was as red as blood.
+
+Since the great snow of 1830 but few buffaloes had been seen on the
+prairie. But a dark cloud of flesh came bounding over the prairie grass,
+bellowing, with low heads and erect tails. The children thought that
+they were cattle at first, but they were buffaloes. They rushed toward
+the trees of Prairie Island, turned, and looked behind. Then the leader
+pawed the earth, and the herd rushed on toward the north.
+
+The fire spread in a semicircle, and seemed to create a wind which
+impelled it on with resistless fury.
+
+"O-o-oh, look! look!" exclaimed another scholar. "See the horses and the
+cattle--droves of them! Look at the sky--see the birds!"
+
+There were droves of cattle hurrying in every direction. The men in the
+fields near Prairie Island came hurrying home.
+
+"The prairie is on fire!" said each one, not knowing what else to say.
+
+"Will it reach us?" asked Jasper of the harvesters.
+
+"What is to hinder it? The wind is driving it this way. It has formed a
+wall of fire that almost surrounds us."
+
+"What can we do?" asked Jasper. The harvesters considered.
+
+"We are safer here than elsewhere, let what will come," said one. "If
+the fire sweeps the prairie, it would overtake us before we could get to
+any great river, and the small creeks are dry."
+
+The afternoon grew darker and darker. The sun went out; under the black
+smoke rolled a red sea whose waves grew nearer and nearer. The children
+began to cry and the women to pray. An old man came hobbling out to the
+arch of the trees.
+
+"I foretold it," said he. "The world is on fire. The Day of Judgment has
+come! A time and times time, and a half."
+
+He had been a Millerite.
+
+"It will be here in an hour," said a harvester.
+
+But there arose a counter-wind. The wall of fire seemed to be stayed.
+The smoke columns rose to the heavens like Babel towers.
+
+Afar, families were seen fleeing on horseback toward the bed of a creek
+which they hoped to find flowing, but which had run dry.
+
+"This is awful!" said Jasper. "It looks as though the heavens were in
+flames."
+
+He shaded his hands and looked into the open space.
+
+"What is that?" he asked.
+
+A black horse came running toward the island, bounding through the grass
+as though impelled by spurs. As he leered, Jasper saw the form of a
+human being stretched at his side. Was the form an Indian?
+
+On came the horse. He leered again, exposing to view a yellow body and a
+plumed head.
+
+"It's an Indian," said Jasper.
+
+The fire flattened and darkened for a time, and then rolled on again.
+Animals were fleeing everywhere, plunging and bellowing, and the air was
+wild and tempestuous with the cries of birds. The little animals could
+be seen leaping out of the prairie grass. The earth, air, and sky
+seemed alive with terror.
+
+The black horse came plunging toward the island.
+
+"How can a horse run that way and live?" asked Jasper. "He is bearing a
+messenger. It is friendly or hostile Indian that is clinging to his
+side."
+
+Jasper bent his eyes on the plunging animal to see him leer, for
+whenever the sidling motion was made it brought to view the tawny
+horizontal form that seemed to be clinging to the bridle, as if riding
+for life. Suddenly there arose a cry from the islanders:
+
+"Look! look! Who has done it? There is a counter-fire ahead. _They_ will
+all perish!"
+
+A mile or more in front of the island, and in the opposite direction
+from the other fire, another great billow of smoke arose spirally into
+the air. The people and animals who had been fleeing toward the creek,
+which they thought contained water, but which was dry, all turned and
+came running toward the island grove. Even the birds came beating back.
+
+"_That_ fire was set by the Indians," said the harvesters. "It is
+started across the track of the other fire to destroy us all. An Indian
+set the fires."
+
+"That is an Indian skirting around us on the back of a horse," said
+another. "He is holding on to the horse by the mane with his hands, and
+by the flanks with his feet. The Indians have done this!"
+
+"The other fire will run back, though against the wind. The prairie is
+so dry that the fire will run everywhere. We must set a counter-fire."
+
+"Set a counter-fire!" exclaimed many voices.
+
+The purpose of the counter-fire was to destroy the dry grass, so that
+when the other fires should reach the place it would find nothing to
+burn.
+
+"But the people!" said Jasper. "See them! They are hurrying here; a
+counter-fire would drive them away!"
+
+An awful scene followed. Horses, cattle, animals of many kinds came
+panting to the island. Many of them had been fleeing for miles, and sank
+down under the trees as if ready to perish. There was one enormous bison
+among them. The tops of the trees were filled with birds, cawing and
+uttering a chaos of cries. The air seemed to rain birds, and the earth
+to pour forth animals. The sky above turned to inky blackness. Men,
+women, and children came rushing into the trees from every direction,
+some crying on Heaven for mercy, some begging for water, all of them
+exhausted and seemingly ready to die. The island grove was like a great
+funeral pyre.
+
+Jasper lifted his hands and called the school and the people around him,
+knelt down, and prayed for help amid the cries of distress that rose on
+every hand. He then looked for the black horse and the plumed rider
+again.
+
+They were drawing near in the darkening air. The figure of the rider was
+more distinct. The people saw it, and cried, "An Indian!" Some said, "It
+is a scout!" and others, "It is he who set the fire!"
+
+The wind rose and changed, caused by the heated air in the distance. The
+currents ran hither and thither like drafts in a room of open doors. One
+of these unnatural drafts caused a new terror to spread among the people
+and animals and birds. It drew up into the air a great column of sparks
+and, scattered them through the open space, and a rain of fire filled
+the sky and descended upon the grove.
+
+[Illustration: THE APPROACH OF THE MYSTERIOUS INDIAN.]
+
+It was a splendid but terrible sight.
+
+"The end of all things is at hand," said the old Millerite. "The stars
+are beginning to fall."
+
+But the rain of fire lost its force as it neared the earth, and it fell
+in cinders and ashes.
+
+"An Indian! an Indian!" cried many voices.
+
+The black horse came plunging into near view, and rushed for the trees
+and sank down with foaming sides and mouth. The people shouted. There
+rolled from his side the lithe and supple form of a young Indian,
+plumed, and dressed in yellow buckskin. What did it mean? The Indian lay
+on the ground like one dead. The people gathered around him, and Jasper
+came to him and bent over him, and parted the black hair from his face.
+Suddenly Jasper started back and uttered a cry.
+
+"What is it?" asked the people.
+
+"It is my old Indian guide--it is Waubeno. Bring him water, and we will
+revive him, and he will tell us what to do.--Waubeno! Waubeno!"
+
+The Indian seemed to know that voice. He revived, and looked around him,
+and stared at the people.
+
+"Give him water," said Jasper.
+
+A boy brought a cup of water and offered it to the Indian. The latter
+started up, and cried:
+
+"Away! I am here to die among you. My tongue burns, but I did not come
+here to drink. I came here to die. The white man killed my father, and I
+have come back with the avengers, and we have brought with us the
+Judgment Day." He stood and listened to the cries of distress.
+
+"Hear the trees cry for help--all the birds of the prairie--but they cry
+for naught. My father hears them cry. The cry is sweet to his ears. He
+is waiting for me. We are all about to die. When the wheat-fields blaze
+and the stacks take fire, and the houses crackle, then we shall all die.
+So says Waubeno." He listened again.
+
+"Hear the earth cry--all the animals. My father hears--his soul hears.
+This is the day that I have carried in my soul. My spirit is in the
+fire."
+
+He listened again. The prairie roared with the hot air, the flames, and
+the clouds of smoke. There fell another rain of fire, and women shrieked
+for mercy, and children cried on their mothers' breasts.
+
+"Hear the people cry! I have waited for that cry for a hundred moons. I
+have paid my vow. We have kindled the fire of the anger of the
+heavens--it is coming. I will die with you like the son of a warrior.
+The souls of the warriors are gathering to see me die. I am Waubeno."
+
+The people pressed upon him, and glared at him.
+
+"He set the fire!" they cried. "The Indian fiend!"
+
+"I set the fire," he said; "I and Black Hawk's men. _They_ have escaped.
+I have done my work, and I want to die."
+
+Jasper lifted his hat, and with bared head stood forth in the view of
+the Indian.
+
+"Waubeno, do you want to see _me_ die?"
+
+He started with a cry of pain. His eyes burned.
+
+"My father--I did not know that you were here. Heaven pity Waubeno now!"
+
+"Waubeno, this is cruel!"
+
+"Cruel? This country was once called the Red Man's Paradise. Cruel? The
+white man made the red man drunk with fire-water, and made him sign a
+false treaty, and then drove him away. Cruel? Think of the women the
+whites shot in the river for coming back to their own corn-fields
+starving to gather their own corn. Cruel? Why is the Red Man's Paradise
+no longer ours? Cruel? The Rock River flows for us no more; the spring
+brings the flowers to these prairies for us no more; the bluff rises in
+the summer sky, but the red man may no longer sit upon it. Cruel? Think
+how your people murdered my father. Is it more cruel for the Indian to
+do these things than for the white man to do them? You have emptied the
+Red Man's Paradise, and Waubeno has fulfilled the vow that he made to
+his father. The clouds are on fire. I would have saved you had I known,
+but you must perish with your people. I shall die with you. I am
+Waubeno. I am proud to be Waubeno. I am the avenger of my race.
+
+"But, white brother, listen. I tried to prevent it. I remembered your
+teaching, and I tried to prevent it by our council-fires over the
+Mississippi. Main-Pogue tried to prevent it. I thought of the man who
+saved him in the war, and I wondered who he was, and tried to prevent it
+for _his_ sake.
+
+"Then said they to me: 'We go to avenge the loss of our country, the Red
+Man's Paradise. The grass is feathers. We go to burn. Waubeno, remember
+your father's death. You are the son of Alknomook!'
+
+"White brother, I have come. I tried to prevent it, but this hand has
+obeyed the voice of my people. I have kindled the fires of the woe. The
+world is on fire. I tried to prevent it, but it has come."
+
+"Waubeno, do you remember _Lincoln_?"
+
+"Lincoln? The Indians killed his father's father. I have often thought
+of that. He said that he would do right by an Indian. I have thought of
+that. I love that man. I would die for such a man."
+
+"Waubeno, who saved the life of Main-Pogue?"
+
+"I don't know, father. I would die for _that man_."
+
+"Did Main-Pogue not tell you?"
+
+"He told me 'twas a white captain saved him. Is the white captain here?"
+
+"No. Waubeno, listen. That white captain was Lincoln."
+
+"Lincoln? Whose father's father the red man killed? Was it he who saved
+Main-Pogue? Lincoln? He forced his men to do right. He did himself
+harm."
+
+"Yes, he did himself harm to do right. Waubeno, do you remember your
+promise that you made to me? You said that you would never avenge the
+death of your father, if you could find one white man who would do
+himself harm for the sake of an Indian."
+
+Waubeno leaped upon his feet, and his black eye swept the clouds, and
+the circle of fire, and the distressed people on every hand.
+
+"Father, I can save you now. I know how. I will do it _for Lincoln's
+sake_.
+
+"Ho! ho!" he cried. "Kill me an ox, and Waubeno will save you. Kill me
+six oxen, and Waubeno will save you. Give me raw hides, and do as I do,
+and Waubeno will save you. Ho! ho! The gods have spoken to Waubeno. A
+voice comes from the sky to Waubeno. It has spoken here. Ho! ho!"
+
+He put his hand upon his heart, then rushed in among the oxen. A company
+of men followed him.
+
+He slew an ox with his knife, and quickly removed the hide. The people
+looked upon him with horror; they thought him demented. What was he
+doing? What was he going to do?
+
+He tied the great hide to his horse's neck, so that the raw side of it
+would drag flat upon the ground, and, turning to Jasper, he said:
+
+"That will smother fire. Ho! ho! How?"
+
+The fire was fast approaching some stacks of wheat on the edge of the
+settlement. Waubeno saw the peril, and leaped upon his horse.
+
+"Kill more cattle. Get more hides for Waubeno," he said.
+
+He rode away toward the stacks, guiding the horse in such a way that the
+raw hide swept the ground. The people watched him. He seemed to ride
+into the fire.
+
+"He is riding to death!" said the people. "He is mad!"
+
+But as he rode the fire was stayed, and a rim of black smoke rose in its
+stead. Near the stacks the fire stopped.
+
+"He is the Evil One himself," said the old Millerite. "That Indian boy
+is no human form."
+
+Out of the black came the horse plunging, bearing the boy, who waved his
+hands to the people. Then the horse plunged away, as though wild, toward
+the outer edge of the great sea of fire.
+
+The horse and rider rushed into the flames, and the same strange effects
+followed. The running flame and white cloud changed into black smoke,
+and the destruction was arrested.
+
+The people watched the boy as he rode half hidden in rolling smoke, his
+red plumes waving above the verge of the flaming sea. What a scene it
+was as he rode there, round and round, like the enchanted form of a more
+than human deliverer! But the effect of his movements at last ceased.
+
+"He is coming back," said the people.
+
+Out of the fire rushed the horse and rider toward the island grove
+again.
+
+"Give me new hides!" he cried, as, singed and blackened, he swept into
+the trees. "The hide is dead and shriveled. Give me new hides. Ho! ho!"
+
+New hides were provided by killing oxen. He tied two together like a
+carpet, with the raw side upon the earth. He attached them by a long
+rope to the horse's neck, and dashed forth again, crying:
+
+"Do the same, and follow me."
+
+The horse seemed maddened again. It flew toward the fire as if drawn by
+a spell, and plunged into it like a bather into the sea. Waubeno tried
+to deaden the fire in the whole circle. Round and round the island he
+rode, in the tide of the advancing flames. The people understood his
+method now, and the men secured new hides and attached them to horses,
+and followed him. He led them, crying and waving his hands. Round and
+round he led them, round and round, and where they rode the white smoke
+changed into black smoke and the fire died.
+
+The people secured raw hides by killing the poor cattle, and came out to
+the verge of the fiery sea and checked the progress of the flames in
+places. In the midst of the excitement a roll of thunder was heard in
+the sky.
+
+"'Tis the trumpet of doom," said the old Millerite.
+
+The people heard it with terror, and yet with hope. It might be an
+approaching shower. If it were, they were saved.
+
+The fire in front of them was checked. Not the great sea, but the
+current that was rolling toward the island grove. The fire at the north
+was rushing forward, but it moved backward toward the place slowly. The
+women began to soak blankets and clothing in water, and so prepared to
+help the men fight the flames. An hour passed. In the midst of the
+crisis the riding men, the hurrying women, the encircling fire, the
+billows of smoke, a flame came zigzagging down from the sky. The people
+stood still. Had the last day indeed come?
+
+Then followed a crash of thunder that shook the earth. The people fell
+upon their knees. The sky darkened, and great drops of rain began to
+fall.
+
+Waubeno had checked the current of the flame that would have destroyed
+the settlement in an hour, and had taught the men how to arrest an
+advancing tide of flame. The people began to have hope. All was now
+activity on the part of the people. Smoke filled the sky.
+
+"There is a cloud above the smoke," said many. "God will save us all."
+
+Waubeno came flying back again to the grove.
+
+"It thunders," he cried. "The Rain-god is coming. If I can keep back
+the fire an hour, the Rain-god will come. Hides! hides! Quick, more
+hides! Ho! ho!"
+
+New hides were provided, and he swept forth again.
+
+The island grove was now like a vast oven. The air was stifling. The
+animals laid down and rolled their tongues from their mouths. But the
+fire in front did not advance. It seemed deadened. The river of flame
+forked and ran in other directions, but it was stayed in front of the
+grove, houses, corn-fields, and stacks, and it was the hand that had set
+flames that had broken its force in the road to the settlements.
+
+There were sudden dashes of rain, and the smoke turned into blackness
+everywhere. Another flash of lightning smote the gloom, followed by a
+rattling of thunder that seemed as if the spirit of the storm was
+driving his chariot through the air. Then it poured as though a lake was
+coming down. In an hour the fire was dead. The cloud parted, the
+slanting sun came out, revealing a prairie as black as ink.
+
+The people fled to the shelter of the houses and sheds at the approach
+of the rain. The animals crowded under the trees, and the birds hid in
+the boughs. After the rain-burst the people gathered together again, and
+each one asked:
+
+"Where is the Indian boy?"
+
+He was not among them.
+
+Had he perished?
+
+A red sunset flamed over the prairies and the birds filled the tree-tops
+with the gladness of song. It seemed to all as if the earth and sky had
+come back again.
+
+In the glare of the sunset-fire a horse and rider were seen slowly
+approaching the island grove.
+
+"It is Waubeno," said one to the other. "The horse is disabled."
+
+The people went out to meet the Indian boy. The horse was burned and
+blind, and staggered as he came on. And the rider! He had drawn the
+flames into his vitals; he had been internally burned, and was dying.
+
+He reeled from his blind horse, and fell before the people. Jasper laid
+his hand upon him.
+
+"Father, I have drunk the cup of fire. I have kept my promise. I am
+about to die. The birds are happy. They are singing the death-song of
+Waubeno."
+
+His flesh quivered as he lay there, and Jasper bent over him in pity.
+
+"Waubeno, do you suffer?"
+
+"The stars do not complain, white brother. The clouded sun does not
+complain. The winds complain, and the waters, and women and children.
+Waubeno does not complain."
+
+A spasm shook his frame. It passed.
+
+"White brother, go beyond the Mississippi and teach my people. You do
+pity them. This was once their paradise. They loved it. They struggled.
+Go to them with the Book of God."
+
+"Waubeno, I will go."
+
+"The sun sets over the Mississippi. 'Tis sunset there. You will go to
+the land of the sunset?"
+
+"Yes, Waubeno. I feel in my heart the call to go. I love and pity your
+people."
+
+"Pour water upon me; I am burning. I shall go when the moon comes up,
+when the moon comes up into the shady sky. My father suffered, but he
+did not complain. Waubeno does not complain. Don't pity me. Pity my poor
+people. I love my people. Teach my people, and cover me forever with a
+blanket of the earth."
+
+He lay on the cool grass under the trees for several hours in terrible
+agony, and the people watched by his side.
+
+"When the moon rises," he said, "I shall go. I shall never see the Red
+Man's Paradise again. Tell me when the moon rises. I am going to sleep
+now."
+
+The great moon rose at last, its disk hanging like a wheel of dead gold
+on the verge of the horizon in the smoky air.
+
+"Waubeno," said Jasper, "the moon is rising."
+
+He opened his eyes, and said:
+
+"We kindled the fire for our fathers' sake, and I smote it for him who
+protected Main-Pogue. What was his name, father? Say it to me."
+
+"Lincoln."
+
+"Yes, Lincoln. He had come for revenge, but he did what was right. He
+forgave. I forgive everybody. I drank the fire for Lincoln's sake."
+
+The moon burned along the sky; the stars came out; and at midnight all
+was still. Waubeno lay dead under the trees, and the people with timid
+steps vanished hither and thither into the cabins and sheds.
+
+They killed the poor blind horse in the morning, and laid Waubeno to
+rest in a blanket, in a grave under the trees.
+
+[Illustration: LINCOLN FAMILY RECORD,
+
+Written by Abraham Lincoln in his Father's Bible.
+
+_From original in possession of C. F. Gunther, Esq., Chicago._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+"OUR LINCOLN IS THE MAN."
+
+
+Fifteen years have passed since the events described in the last
+chapter. It is the year 1860. A great political crisis is upon the
+country, and Abraham Lincoln has been selected to lead one great party
+of the people, because he had faith in the principle that right is
+might. The time came, as the Tunker had prophesied, when the people
+wanted a man of integrity for their leader--a man who had a heart that
+could be trusted. They elected him to the Legislature when he was almost
+a boy and had not decent clothes to wear. The young legislator walked
+over the prairies of Illinois to the Capitol to save the traveling fare.
+As a legislator he had faith that right is might, and was true to his
+convictions.
+
+"He has a heart that we can trust," said the people, and they sent him
+to Congress. He was true in Washington, as in Illinois.
+
+"He has a heart we can trust," said the people; "let us send him to the
+Senate."
+
+He failed of an election, but it was because his convictions of right
+were in advance of the public mind at the time; but he who is defeated
+for a principle, triumphs. The greatest victors are those who are
+vanquished in the cause of truth, justice, and right; for the cause
+lives, and they live in the cause that must prevail.
+
+Again the people wanted a leader--all the people who represented a great
+cause--and Illinois said to the people:
+
+"Make our Lincoln your leader; he has a heart that we can trust," and
+Lincoln was made the heart of the people in the great cause of human
+rights. Lincoln, who had defended the little animals of the woods.
+Lincoln, who had been true to his pioneer father, when the experience
+had cost him years of toilsome life. Lincoln, who had pitied the slave
+in the New Orleans market, and whose soul had cried to Heaven for the
+scales of Justice. Lincoln, who had protected the old Indian amid the
+gibes of his comrades. Lincoln, who had studied by pine-knots, made
+poetry on old shovels, and read law on lonely roads. Lincoln, who had
+had a kindly word and pleasant story for everybody, pitied everybody,
+loved everybody, and forgave everybody, and yet carried a sad heart.
+Lincoln, who had resolved that in law and politics he would do just
+right.
+
+John Hanks had brought some of the rails that the candidate for the
+presidency had split into the Convention of Illinois, and the rails that
+represented the hardships of pioneer life became the oriflamme of the
+leader from the prairies. He who is true to a nation is first true to
+his parents and home.
+
+That was an ever-to-be-remembered day when, in August, 1860, the people
+of the great West with one accord arranged to visit Abraham Lincoln, the
+candidate for the presidency, at Springfield, Illinois. Seventy
+thousand strangers poured into the prairie city. They came from Indiana,
+Iowa, and the lakes. Thousands came from Chicago. Men came in wagons,
+bringing their wives and children. They brought tents, camp-kettles, and
+coffee-pots. Says a graphic writer who saw the scene:
+
+"Every road leading to the city is crowded for twenty miles with
+vehicles. The weather is fine, and a little overwarm. Girls can dress in
+white, and bare their arms and necks without danger; the women can bring
+their children. Everything that was ever done at any other mass-meeting
+is done here. Locomotive-builders are making a boiler; blacksmiths are
+heating and hammering their irons; the iron-founders are molding their
+patterns; the rail-splitters are showing the people how Uncle Abe used
+to split rails; every other town has its wagon-load of thirty-one girls
+in white to represent the States; bands of music, numerous almost as
+those of McClellan on Arlington Heights in 1862, are playing; old men of
+the War of 1812, with their old wives, their children, grandchildren,
+and great-grandchildren, are here: making a procession of human beings,
+horses, and carriages not less than ten miles in length. And yet the
+procession might have left the town and the people would scarcely be
+missed.
+
+"There is an immense wigwam, with galleries like a theatre; but there
+are people enough not in the procession to fill a dozen like it. Half an
+hour is long enough to witness the moving panorama of men and women,
+horses, carriages, representatives of trades, mottoes, and burlesques,
+and listen to the bands."
+
+And among those who came to see the great procession, the
+rail-splitters, and the sights, were the Tunker from the Indian schools
+over the Mississippi, and Aunt Indiana from Indiana.
+
+There was a visitor from the East who became the hero of the great day.
+He is living now (1891) in Chelsea, Mass., near the Soldiers' Home, to
+which he often goes to sing, and is known there as "Father Locke." He
+was a natural minstrel, and songs of his, like "Down by the Sea," have
+been sung all over the world. One of his songs has moved thousands of
+hearts in sorrow, and pictures his own truly loving and beautiful soul:
+
+    "There's a fresh little mound near the willow,
+      Where at evening I wander and weep;
+    There's a dear vacant spot on my pillow,
+      Where a sweet little face used to sleep.
+    There were pretty blue eyes, but they slumber
+      In silence, beneath the dark mold,
+    And the little pet lamb of our number
+      Has gone to the heavenly fold."
+
+This man, with the approval of President Lincoln, went as a minstrel to
+the Army of the Potomac. We think that he was the only minstrel who
+followed our army, like the war-singers of old. In a book published for
+private use, entitled Three Years in Camp and Hospital, "Father Locke"
+thus tells the story of his interview with President Lincoln at the
+White House:
+
+"Giving his hand, and saying he recollected me, he asked what he could
+do for me.
+
+"'I want no office, Mr. President. I came to ask for one, but have
+changed my mind since coming into this house. When it comes to turning
+beggar, I shall shun the places where all the other beggars go. I am
+going to the army to sing for the soldiers, as the poets and balladists
+of old sang in war. Our soldiers must take as much interest in songs and
+singing as did those of ancient times. I only wished to shake hands with
+you, and obtain a letter of recommendation to the commanding officers,
+that they may receive and treat me kindly.'
+
+"'I will give you a letter with pleasure, but you do not need one; your
+singing will make you all right.'
+
+"On my rising to leave, he gave his hand, saying: 'God bless you; I am
+glad you do not want an office. Go to the army, and cheer the men around
+their camp-fires with your songs, remembering that a great man said,
+"Let me but make the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its
+laws."'"
+
+The President then told him how to secure a pass into the lines of the
+army, and the man went forth to write and to sing his inspirations, like
+a balladist of old.
+
+His songs were the delight of many camps of the Army of the Potomac in
+the first dark year of the war. They were sung in the camp, and they
+belonged to the inside army life, but were little known outside of the
+army. They are still fondly remembered by the veterans, and are sung at
+reunions and camp-fires.
+
+We give one of these songs and its original music here. It has the
+spirit of the time and the events, and every note is a pulse-beat:
+
+
+_We are Marching on to Richmond._
+
+WORDS AND MUSIC BY E. W. LOCKE.
+
+Published by the permission of the Composer.
+
+    1. Our knapsacks sling and blithely sing, We're marching on to
+    2. Our foes are near, their drums we hear, They're camped a-bout in
+
+    Rich-mond; With weap-ons bright, and hearts so light, We're
+    Rich-mond; With pick-ets out, to tell the route Our
+
+    march-ing on to Rich-mond; Each wea-ry mile with
+    Ar-my takes to Rich-mond; We've craft-y foes to
+
+    song be-guile, We're marching on to Richmond; The roads are
+    meet our blows, No doubt they'll fight for Richmond; The brave may
+
+    rough, but smooth e-nough To take us safe to Richmond.
+    die, but nev-er fly, We'll cut our way to Richmond.
+
+    CHORUS.
+
+    Then tramp a-way while the bu-gles play, We're
+    march-ing on to Rich-mond; Our flag shall gleam in the
+    morn-ing beam, From man-y a spire in Rich-mond.
+
+    3.
+
+    "But yesterday, in murderous fray,
+      While marching on to Richmond,
+    We parted here from comrades dear,
+      While marching on to Richmond;
+    With manly sighs and tearful eyes,
+      While marching on to Richmond,
+    We laid the braves in peaceful graves,
+      And started on to Richmond.
+
+    4.
+
+    "Our friends away are sad to-day,
+      Because we march to Richmond;
+    With loving fear they shrink to hear
+      About our march to Richmond;
+    The pen shall tell that they who fell
+      While marching on to Richmond,
+    Had hearts aglow and face to foe,
+      And died in sight of Richmond.
+
+    5.
+
+    "Our thoughts shall roam to scenes of home,
+      While marching on to Richmond;
+    The vacant chair that's waiting there,
+      While we march on to Richmond;
+    'Twill not be long till shout and song
+      We'll raise aloud in Richmond,
+    And war's rude blast will soon be past,
+      And we'll go home from Richmond."
+
+This song-writer had brought a song to the great Springfield assembly.
+He sang it when the people were in a receptive mood. It voiced their
+hearts, and its influence was electric. As he rose before the assembly
+on that August day under the prairie sun, and sang: "Hark! hark! a
+signal-gun is heard," a stillness came over the great sea of the people.
+The figures of the first verse filled the imagination, but the chorus
+was like a bugle-call:
+
+    "THE SHIP OF STATE.
+
+    "(Sung at the Springfield Convention.)
+
+    "Hark! hark! a signal-gun is heard,
+      Just out beyond the fort;
+    The good old Ship of State, my boys,
+      Is coming into port.
+    With shattered sails, and anchors gone,
+      I fear the rogues will strand her;
+    She carries now a sorry crew,
+      And needs a new commander.
+
+        "Our Lincoln is the man!
+        Our Lincoln is the man!
+          With a sturdy mate
+        From the Pine-Tree State,
+        Our Lincoln is the man!
+
+    "Four years ago she put to sea,
+      With prospects brightly beaming;
+    Her hull was strong, her sails new-bent,
+      And every pennant streaming;
+    She loved the gale, she plowed the waves,
+      Nor feared the deep's commotion;
+    Majestic, nobly on she sailed,
+      Proud mistress of the ocean.
+
+    "There's mutiny aboard the ship;
+      There's feud no force can smother;
+    Their blood is up to fever-heat;
+      They're cutting down each other.
+    Buchanan here, and Douglas there,
+      Are belching forth their thunder,
+    While cunning rogues are sly at work
+      In pocketing the plunder.
+
+    "Our ship is badly out of trim;
+      'Tis time to calk and grave her;
+    She's foul with stench of human gore;
+      They've turned her to a slaver.
+    She's cruised about from coast to coast,
+      The flying bondman hunting,
+    Until she's strained from stem to stern,
+      And lost her sails and bunting.
+
+        "Old Abram is the man!
+        Old Abram is the man!
+          And he'll trim her sails,
+          As he split the rails.
+        Old Abram is the man!
+
+    "We'll give her what repairs she needs--
+      A thorough overhauling;
+    Her sordid crew shall be dismissed,
+      To seek some honest calling.
+    Brave Lincoln soon shall take the helm,
+      On truth and right relying;
+    In calm or storm, in peace or war,
+      He'll keep her colors flying.
+
+        "Old Abram is the man!
+        Old Abram is the man!
+          With a sturdy mate
+          From the Pine-Tree State,
+        Old Abram is the man!"
+
+These words seem commonplace to-day, but they were trumpet-notes then.
+"Our Lincoln is the man!" trembled on every tongue, and a tumultuous
+applause arose that shook the air. The enthusiasm grew; the minstrel had
+voiced the people, and they would not let him stop singing. They finally
+mounted him on their shoulders and carried him about in triumph, like a
+victor bard of old. Ever rang the chorus from the lips of the people,
+"Our Lincoln is the man!" "Old Abram is the man!"
+
+Lincoln heard the song. He loved songs. One of his favorite songs was
+"Twenty Years ago." But this was the first time, probably, that he had
+heard himself sung. He was living at that time in the plain house in
+Springfield that has been made familiar by pictures. The song delighted
+him, but he, of all the thousands, was forbidden by his position to
+express his pleasure in the song. He would have liked to join with the
+multitudes in singing "Our Lincoln is the man!" had not the situation
+sealed his lips. But after the scene was over, and the great mass of
+people began to melt away, he sought the minstrel, and said:
+
+"Come to my room, and sing to me the song privately. _I_ want to hear
+you sing it."
+
+So he listened to it in private, while it was being borne over the
+prairies on tens of thousands of lips. Did he then dream that the
+nations would one day sing the song of his achievements, that his death
+would be tolled by the bells of all lands, and his dirge fill the
+churches of Christendom with tears? It may have been that his destiny in
+dim outline rose before him, for the events of his life were hurrying.
+
+Aunt Indiana was there, and she found the Tunker.
+
+"The land o' sakes and daisies!" she said. "That we should both be here!
+Well, elder, I give it up! I was agin Lincoln until I heard all the
+people a-singin' that song; then it came over me that I was doin' just
+what I hadn't ought to, and I began to sing 'Old Lincoln is the man!'
+just as though it had been a Methody hymn written by Wesley himself."
+
+"I am glad that you have changed your mind, and that I have lived to see
+my prophecy, that Lincoln would become the heart of the people,
+fulfilled."
+
+"Elder, I tell you what let's we do."
+
+"What, my good woman?"
+
+"Let's we each get a rail, and go down before Abe's winder, and I'll
+sing as loud as anybody:
+
+    "'Old Abram is the man!
+    Old Abram is the man!
+      And he'll trim her sails
+      As he split the rails.
+    Old Abram is the man!'
+
+I'll do it, if you will. I've been all wrong from the first. Why, even
+the Grigsbys are goin' to vote for him, and I'm goin' to do the right
+thing myself. Abe always had a human heart, and it is that which is the
+most human that leads off in this world."
+
+Aunt Indiana found a rail. The streets of Springfield were full of rails
+that the people had brought in honor of Lincoln's hard work on his
+father's barn in early Illinois. She also found a flag. Flags were as
+many as rails on this remarkable occasion. She set the flag into the top
+of the rail, and started for the street that led past Lincoln's door.
+
+"Come on, elder; we'll be a procession all by ourselves."
+
+The two arrived at the house where Lincoln lived, the Tunker in his
+buttonless gown, and Aunt Indiana with her corn-bonnet, printed shawl,
+rail, and flag. The procession of two came to a halt before the open
+window, and presently, framed in the open window, like a picture, the
+face of Abraham Lincoln appeared. That face lighted up as it fell upon
+Aunt Indiana.
+
+She made a low courtesy, and lifted the rail and the flag, and broke
+forth in a tone that would have led a camp-meeting:
+
+    "'Our Abram is the man!
+    Our Abram is the man!
+      With a sturdy mate
+      From the Pine-Tree State,
+    Our Abram is the man!'
+
+"Elder, you sing, and we'll go over it again."
+
+Aunt Indiana waved the flag and sang the refrain again, and said:
+
+"Abe Lincoln, I'm goin' to vote for ye, though I never thought I should.
+But you shall have my vote with all the rest.--Lawdy sakes and daisies,
+elder--I forgot; I can't vote, can I? I'm just a woman. I've got all
+mixed up and carried away, but
+
+    "'Our Abram is the man!'"
+
+[Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
+
+_From a photograph by Alexander Hesler, Chicago, 1858._]
+
+Six years have passed. The gardens of Washington are bursting into
+bloom. The sky is purple under a clear sun. It is Wednesday morning, the
+19th of April, 1865.
+
+All the bells are tolling, and the whole city is robed in black. At
+eleven o'clock some sixty clergymen enter the White House, followed by
+the governors of the States. At noon comes the long procession of
+Government officers, followed by the diplomatic corps.
+
+In the sable rooms rises a dark catafalque, and in it lies a waxen face.
+
+Toll!--the bells of Washington, Georgetown, and Alexandria! Minute-guns
+boom. Around that dead face the representatives of the nation, and of
+all nations, pass, and tears fall like rain.
+
+A funeral car of flowers moves through the streets. Abraham Lincoln has
+done his work. He is on his journey back to the scenes of his childhood!
+The boy who defended the turtles, the man who stretched out his arm over
+the defenseless Indian in the Black Hawk War, and who freed the slave;
+the man of whom no one ever asked pity in vain--he is going back to the
+prairies, to sleep his eternal sleep among the violets.
+
+Toll! The bells of all the cities and towns of the loyal nation are
+tolling. In every principal church in all the land people have met to
+weep and to pray. Half-mast flags everywhere meet the breeze.
+
+They laid the body beneath the rotunda of the Capitol, amid the April
+flowers and broken magnolias.
+
+Then homeward--through Baltimore, robed in black; through Philadelphia,
+through New York, Cleveland, Indianapolis, and Chicago. The car rolls
+on, over flowers and under black flags, amid the tolling of the bells of
+cities and the bells of the simple country church-towers. All labor
+ceases. The whole people stop to wonder and to weep.
+
+The dirges cease. The muffled drums are still. The broken earth of the
+prairies is wrapped around the dead commoner, the fallen apostle of
+humanity, the universal brother of all who toil and struggle.
+
+The courts of Europe join in the lamentation. Never yet was a man wept
+like this man.
+
+His monument ennobles the world. He stands in eternal bronze in a
+hundred cities. And why? Because he had a heart to feel; because to him
+all men had been brothers of equal blood and birthright; and because he
+had had faith that "RIGHT MAKES MIGHT."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+AT THE LAST.
+
+
+From the magnolias to the Northern orchards, from the apple-blooms to
+the prairie violets! The casket was laid in the tomb. Twilight came; the
+multitudes had gone. It was ended now, and night was falling.
+
+Two forms stood beside the closed door of the tomb; one was an old,
+gray-haired woman, the other was a patriarchal-looking man.
+
+The woman's gray hairs blew about her white face like silver threads,
+and she pushed it back with her withered hand.
+
+"Sister Olive," said the old man, "_he_ loved others better than
+himself; and it is not this tomb, but the great heart of the world, that
+has taken him in. I felt that he was called. I felt it years ago."
+
+"Heaven forgive a poor old woman, elder! I misjudged that man. See
+here."
+
+She held up a bunch of half-withered prairie violets that she had
+carried about with her all the day, and then went and laid them on the
+tomb.
+
+"For Lincoln's sake! for Lincoln's sake!" she said, crying like a child.
+
+The two went away in the shadows, talking of all the past, and each has
+long slept under the violets of the prairies.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS.
+
+
+BOOKS BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
+
+UNIFORM EDITION. EACH, 12MO, CLOTH, $1.50.
+
+
+_THE RED PATRIOT._ A Story of the American Revolution. Illustrated by B.
+West Clinedinst.
+
+     In this vivid account of a boy's part in great historical
+     events there is a leading actor, "the last of the
+     Susquehannocks," whose share in the hero's adventures has given
+     the title to the book.
+
+_THE WINDFALL_; _or, After the Flood_. Illustrated by B. West
+Clinedinst.
+
+     "Full of adventure and incident so well conceived and described
+     as to keep the reader in a continued state of absorbed
+     attention. It is the kind of book one wants to sit up nights to
+     finish."--_Springfield Union_.
+
+_CHRIS, THE MODEL-MAKER._ A Story of New York. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by B. West Clinedinst.
+
+     "The girls as well as the boys will be certain to relish every
+     line of it. It is full of lively and likely adventure, is
+     wholesome in tone, and capitally illustrated."--_Philadelphia
+     Press_.
+
+_ON THE OLD FRONTIER._ With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+     "A capital story of life in the middle of the last century....
+     The characters introduced really live and talk, and the story
+     recommends itself not only to boys and girls, but to their
+     parents."--_New York Times_.
+
+_THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK._ With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored
+Frontispiece.
+
+     "Young people who are interested in the ever-thrilling story of
+     the great rebellion will find in this romance a wonderfully
+     graphic picture of New York in war time."--_Boston Traveler_.
+
+_LITTLE SMOKE._ A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page
+Illustrations by F. S. Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red
+Cloud, and other chiefs, and 72 head and tail pieces representing the
+various implements and surroundings of Indian life.
+
+     "It is not only a story of adventure, but the volume abounds in
+     information concerning this most powerful of remaining Indian
+     tribes. The work of the author has been well supplemented by
+     the artist."--_Boston Traveler_.
+_ CROWDED OUT O' CROFIELD._ The story of a country boy who fought
+his way to success in the great metropolis. With 23 Illustrations by
+C. T. Hill.
+
+     "This excellent story teaches boys to be men, not prigs or
+     Indian hunters. If our boys would read more such books, and
+     less of the blood-and-thunder order, it would be rare good
+     fortune."--_Detroit Free Press_.
+
+
+GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS.
+
+_THE EXPLOITS OF MYLES STANDISH._ By HENRY JOHNSON (Muirhead Robertson),
+author of "From Scrooby to Plymouth Rock," etc. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.
+
+     This story of the exploits of Myles Standish throws a clearer
+     light upon a heroic figure in our earliest history, and it has
+     an epic quality which will appeal to old and young. While the
+     facts of history are presented, the author has adroitly
+     reconstructed the little-known earlier years of Standish's
+     life, basing his imaginative work upon the probabilities of
+     history. The result is for the most part history told in the
+     form of a thrilling and absorbing story, a tale which includes
+     war and adventures, and also illustrates the sterling and
+     heroic qualities which contributed so powerfully to the
+     preservation of the Plymouth colony. The book is one to be read
+     by every young American.
+
+_CHRISTINE'S CAREER._ A Story for Girls. By PAULINE KING. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth, specially bound, $1.50.
+
+     The story is fresh and modern, relieved by incidents and
+     constant humor, and the lessons which are suggested are most
+     beneficial.
+
+_JOHN BOYD'S ADVENTURES._ By THOMAS W. KNOX, author of "The Boy
+Travelers," etc. With 12 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF._ By CHARLES F. HOLDER, joint author of
+"Elements of Zoölogy." With numerous Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_ENGLISHMAN'S HAVEN._ By W. J. GORDON, author of "The Captain-General,"
+etc. With 8 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_WE ALL._ A Story of Outdoor Life and Adventure in Arkansas. By OCTAVE
+THANET. With 12 full-page Illustrations by E. J. Austen and Others.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_KING TOM AND THE RUNAWAYS._ By LOUIS PENDLETON. The experiences of two
+boys in the forests of Georgia. With 6 Illustrations by E. W. Kemble.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+Books by Hezekiah Butterworth.
+
+UNIFORM EDITION. Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
+
+True to his Home. _A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin._
+
+Illustrated by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    "Mr. Butterworth's charming and suggestive story presents the
+    most interesting and picturesque episodes in the home life of
+    Franklin, as well as a narrative of the salient phases of his
+    public life. The author has succeeded most happily in carrying
+    out his plan of "story-telling education" based on Froebel's
+    principle that "life must be taught from life.""
+
+The Wampum; or, The Fairest Page of History. _A Tale of William Penn's
+Treaty with the Indians._ Illustrated by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    "Historic truth is the foundation of all the incidents in this
+    finely written, instructive, and wholly charming book. The
+    personality and character of William Penn are most admirably
+    treated, and his figure looms up to its noble proportions in the
+    historic perspective."--_Philadelphia Press._
+
+The Knight of Liberty. _A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette._ With 6
+full-page Illustrations.
+
+    "No better reading for the young man can be imagined than this
+    fascinating narrative of a noble figure on the canvas of
+    time."--_Boston Traveler._
+
+The Patriot Schoolmaster; _or, The Adventures of the Two Boston Cannon,
+the "Adams" and the "Hancock_." A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of
+Liberty. With Illustrations by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    The true spirit of the leaders in our War for Independence is
+    pictured in this dramatic story. It includes the Boston Tea
+    Party and Bunker Hill; and Adams, Hancock, Revere, and the boys
+    who bearded General Gage, are living characters in this romance
+    of American patriotism.
+
+The Boys of Greenway Court. _A story of the Early Years of Washington._
+With 10 full-page Illustrations by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    "Skillfully combining fact and fiction, he has given us a story
+    historically instructive and at the same time
+    entertaining."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+In the Boyhood of Lincoln. _A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker
+Schoolmaster._ With 12 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.
+
+    "The author presents facts in a most attractive framework of
+    fiction, and imbues the whole with his peculiar humor. The
+    illustrations are numerous and of more than usual
+    excellence."--_New Haven Palladium._
+
+The Log School-House on the Columbia. With 13 full-page Illustrations by
+J. CARTER BEARD, E. J. AUSTEN, and Others.
+
+    "This book will charm all who turn its pages. There are few
+    books of popular information concerning the pioneers of the
+    great Northwest, and this one is worthy of sincere
+    praise."--_Seattle Post-Intelligencer._
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+
+
+
+
+
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of In The Boyhood Of Lincoln, by Hezekiah Butterworth.
+    </title>
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+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
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+
+Project Gutenberg's In The Boyhood of Lincoln, by Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: In The Boyhood of Lincoln
+       A Tale of the Tunker Schoolmaster and the Times of Black Hawk
+
+Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2008 [EBook #25672]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Adrian Mastronardi, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 356px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="356" height="500" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p><a name="front" id="front"></a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/illus-003.jpg" width="326" height="500" alt="The Rescue." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Rescue.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h1>IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN</h1>
+
+<h3>
+A Tale of the Tunker Schoolmaster<br />
+and the Times of Black Hawk<br />
+</h3>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH</h2>
+
+<h4>AUTHOR OF THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA</h4>
+
+<p class="center">
+Let us have faith that right makes might, and
+in that faith as to the end dare to do our duty.<br /></p>
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">President Lincoln.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<h4><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/illus-004.jpg" width="450" height="445" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h5>NINTH EDITION</h5>
+
+<p class="center">
+NEW YORK<br />
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br />
+1898<br />
+</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">
+<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1892,<br />
+<span class="smcap">By</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Abraham Lincoln has become the typical character of American
+institutions, and it is the purpose of this book, which is a true
+picture in a framework of fiction, to show how that character, which so
+commanded the hearts and the confidence of men, was formed. He who in
+youth unselfishly seeks the good of others, without fear or favor, may
+be ridiculed, but he makes for himself a character fit to govern others,
+and one that the people will one day need and honor. The secret of
+Abraham Lincoln's success was the "faith that right makes might." This
+principle the book seeks by abundant story-telling to illustrate and
+make clear.</p>
+
+<p>In this volume, as in the "Log School-House on the Columbia," the
+adventures of a pioneer school-master are made to represent the early
+history of a newly settled country. The "Log School-House on the
+Columbia" gave a view of the early history of Oregon and Washington.
+This volume collects many of the Indian romances and cabin tales of the
+early settlers of Illinois, and pictures the hardships and manly
+struggles of one who by force of early character made himself the
+greatest of representative Americans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The character of the Dunkard, or Tunker, as a wandering school-master,
+may be new to many readers. Such missionaries of the forests and
+prairies have now for the most part disappeared, but they did a useful
+work among the pioneer settlements on the Ohio and Illinois Rivers. In
+this case we present him as a disciple of Pestalozzi and a friend of
+Froebel, and as one who brings the German methods of story-telling into
+his work.</p>
+
+<p>"Was there ever so good an Indian as Umatilla?" asks an accomplished
+reviewer of the "Log School-House on the Columbia." The chief whose
+heroic death in the grave of his son is recorded in that volume did not
+receive the full measure of credit for his devotion, for he was really
+buried <i>alive</i> in the grave of his boy. A like question may be asked in
+regard to the father of Waubeno in this volume. We give the story very
+much as Black Hawk himself related it. In Drake's History of the Indians
+we find it related in the following manner:</p>
+
+<p>"It is related by Black Hawk, in his Life, that some time before the War
+of 1812 one of the Indians had killed a Frenchman at Prairie des Chiens.
+'The British soon after took him prisoner, and said they would shoot him
+next day. His family were encamped a short distance below the mouth of
+the Ouisconsin. He begged permission to go and see them that night, as
+he was <i>to die the next day</i>. They permitted him to go, after promising
+to return the next morning by sunrise. He visited his family, which
+consisted of a wife and six children. I can not describe their meeting
+and parting to be understood by the whites, as it appears that their
+feelings are acted upon by certain rules laid down by their
+<i>preachers</i>!&mdash;while ours<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span> are governed only by the monitor within us. He
+parted from his wife and children, hurried through the prairie to the
+fort, and arrived in time. The soldiers were ready, and immediately
+<i>marched out and shot him down</i>!' If this were not cold-blooded,
+deliberate murder on the part of the whites I have no conception of what
+constitutes that crime. What were the circumstances of the murder we are
+not informed; but whatever they may have been, they can not excuse a
+still greater barbarity."</p>
+
+<p>It belongs, like the story of so-called Umatilla in the "Log
+School-House on the Columbia," to a series of great legends of Indian
+character which the poet's pen and the artist's brush would do well to
+perpetuate. The examples of Indians who have valued honor more than life
+are many, and it is a pleasing duty to picture such scenes of native
+worth, as true to the spirit of the past.</p>
+
+<p>We have in this volume, as in the former book, freely mingled history,
+tradition, and fiction, but we believe that we have in no case been
+untrue to the fact and spirit of the times we picture, and we have
+employed fiction chiefly as a framework to bring what is real more
+vividly into view. We have employed the interpretive imagination merely
+for narrative purposes. Nearly all that has distinctive worth in the
+volume is substantially true to history, tradition, and the general
+spirit of old times in the Illinois, the Sangamon, and the Chicago; to
+the character of the "jolly old pedagogue long ago"; and to that
+marvelous man who accepted in youth the lesson of lessons, that "right
+makes might."</p>
+
+<p>28 <span class="smcap">Worchester Street, Boston, Mass.</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+CHAPTER                                                          <span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br />
+<br />
+I.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Introduced</span>                                            <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></span><br />
+<br />
+II.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Thomas Lincoln's family stories</span>                     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></span><br />
+<br />
+III.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The old blacksmith's shop and the merry story-tellers</span>     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_33'>33</a></span><br />
+<br />
+IV.&mdash;<span class="smcap">A boy with a heart</span>                                  <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_55'>55</a></span><br />
+<br />
+V.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Jasper cobbles for Aunt Olive.&mdash;Her queer stories</span>     <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_62'>62</a></span><br />
+<br />
+VI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Jasper gives an account of his visit to Black Hawk.&mdash;Aunt
+Indiana's wig</span>                                                <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_75'>75</a></span><br />
+<br />
+VII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The examination at Crawford's school</span>               <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></span><br />
+<br />
+VIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Parable preaches in the wilderness</span>           <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_100'>100</a></span><br />
+<br />
+IX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Aunt Indiana's prophecies</span>                          <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_108'>108</a></span><br />
+<br />
+X.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Indian runner</span>                                   <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_115'>115</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The cabin near Chicago</span>                             <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_122'>122</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The white Indian of Chicago</span>                       <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Lafayette at Kaskaskia.&mdash;The stately minuet</span>      <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_140'>140</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XIV.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Waubeno and young Lincoln</span>                         <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_156'>156</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XV.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The debating school</span>                                <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_166'>166</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XVI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The school that made Lincoln President</span>            <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_177'>177</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XVII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Thomas Lincoln moves</span>                             <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_184'>184</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XVIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Main-pogue</span>                                      <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_196'>196</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XIX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The forest college</span>                                <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_202'>202</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Making Lincoln a "Son of Malta"</span>                    <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_214'>214</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XXI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Prairie Island</span>                                    <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_218'>218</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XXII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Indian plot</span>                                  <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_229'>229</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XXIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">For Lincoln's sake</span>                              <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_236'>236</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XXIV.&mdash;"<span class="smcap">Our Lincoln is the man</span>"                         <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_251'>251</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XXV.&mdash;<span class="smcap">At the last</span>                                       <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_265'>265</a></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="tocnum">FACING PAGE</span><br />
+<br />
+The rescue                                        <span class="tocnum"><i><a href="#front">Frontispiece</a></i></span><br />
+<br />
+The Tunker school-master's class in manners                       <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_14'>14</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Lines written by Lincoln on the leaf of his school-book           <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_22'>22</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Story-telling at the smithy                                       <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The home of Abraham Lincoln when in his tenth year                <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_55'>55</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Aunt Olive's wedding                                              <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_68'>68</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Abraham as a peace-maker                                          <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Black Hawk tells the story of Waubeno                            <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_118'>118</a></span><br />
+<br />
+A queer place to write poetry                                    <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_160'>160</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Sarah Bush Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln's step-mother                <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_217'>217</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The approach of the mysterious Indian                            <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_240'>240</a></span><br />
+<br />
+The Lincoln family record                                        <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_250'>250</a></span><br />
+<br />
+Abraham Lincoln, the man                                         <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_262'>262</a></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2>IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>INTRODUCED.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Boy, are there any schools in these parts?"</p>
+
+<p>"Crawford's."</p>
+
+<p>"And who, my boy, is Crawford?"</p>
+
+<p>"The schoolmaster, don't yer know? He's great on thrashing&mdash;on
+thrashing&mdash;and&mdash;and he knows everything. Everybody in these parts has
+heard of Crawford. He's great."</p>
+
+<p>"That is all very extraordinary. 'Great on thrashing, and knows
+everything.' Very extraordinary! Do you raise much wheat in these
+parts?"</p>
+
+<p>"He don't thrash wheat, mister. Old Dennis and young Dennis do that with
+their thrashing-flails."</p>
+
+<p>"But what does he thrash, my boy&mdash;what does he thrash?"</p>
+
+<p>"He just thrashes boys, don't you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Extraordinary&mdash;very extraordinary. He thrashes boys."</p>
+
+<p>"And teaches 'em their manners. He teaches manners, Crawford does.
+Didn't you never hear of Crawford? You must be a stranger in these
+parts."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am a stranger in Indiana. I have been following<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> the timber
+along the creek, and looking out on the prairie islands. This is a
+beautiful country. Nature has covered it with grasses and flowers, and
+the bees will swarm here some day; I see them now; the air is all bright
+with them, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see any bees; it isn't the time of year for 'em. Do you
+cobble?"</p>
+
+<p>"You don't quite understand me. I was speaking spiritually. Yes, I
+cobble to pay my way. Yes, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you preach?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and teach the higher branches&mdash;like Crawford. He teaches the
+higher branches, does he not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make any odds where he gets 'em. I didn't know that he used the
+higher branches. He just cuts a stick anywhere, and goes at 'em, he
+does."</p>
+
+<p>"You do not comprehend me, my boy. I teach the higher branches in new
+schools&mdash;Latin and singing. I do not use the higher branches of the
+trees."</p>
+
+<p>"Latin! Then you must be a <i>wizard</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, my boy. I am one of the Brethren&mdash;called. My new name is
+Jasper. I chose that name because I needed polishing. Do you see? Well,
+the Lord is doing his work, polishing me, and I shall shine by and by.
+'They that turn many to righteousness shall shine like the stars of
+heaven.' They call me the Parable."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you be a Tunker?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am one of the wandering Brethren that they call 'Tunkers.'"</p>
+
+<p>"You preach for nothin'? They do."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my boy; the Word is free."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then who pays you?"</p>
+
+<p>"My soul."</p>
+
+<p>"And you teach for nothin', too, do ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my boy. Knowledge is free."</p>
+
+<p>"Then who pays you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It all comes back to me. He that teaches is taught."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't cobble for nothin', do ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I cobble to pay my way. I am a wayfaring man, wandering to and fro
+in the wilderness of the world."</p>
+
+<p>"You cobble to pay yourself for teachin' and preachin'! Why don't you
+make <i>them</i> pay you? I shouldn't think that you would want to preach and
+teach and cobble all for nothin', and travel, and travel, and sleep
+anywhere. Father will be proper glad to see you&mdash;and mother; we are glad
+to see near upon anybody. I suppose that you will hold forth down to
+Crawford's; in the log meetin'-'ouse, or in the school-'ouse, may be, or
+under the great trees over Nancy Lincoln's grave. Elkins he preached
+there, and the circuit-rider."</p>
+
+<p>"If I follow the timber, I will come to Crawford's, my boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mister. You'll come to the school-'ouse, and the meetin'-'ouse.
+The school-'ouse has a low-down roof and a big chimney. Crawford will be
+right glad to see you, won't he now? They are great on spellin' down
+there&mdash;have spellin'-matches, and all the people come from far and near
+to hear 'em spell&mdash;hundreds of 'em. Link&mdash;he's the head speller&mdash;he
+could spell down anybody. It is the greatest school in all these here
+new parts. You will have a right good time down there; they'll treat ye
+right well."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Good, my boy; you speak kindly. I shall have a good time, if the people
+have ears."</p>
+
+<p>"Ears! They've all got ears&mdash;just like other folks. You didn't think
+that they didn't have any ears, did ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean ears for the truth. I must travel on. I am glad that I met you,
+my lad. Tell your father and mother that old Jasper the Parable has gone
+by, and that he has a message for them in his heart. God bless you, my
+boy&mdash;God bless you! You are a little rude in your speech, but you mean
+well."</p>
+
+<p>The man went on, following the trail along the great trees of Pigeon
+Creek, and the boy stood looking after him. The water rippled under the
+trees, and afar lay the open prairie, like a great sun sea. The air was
+cool, but the light of spring was in it, and the blue-birds fluted
+blithely among the budding trees.</p>
+
+<p>As he passed along amid these new scenes, a singular figure appeared in
+the way. It was a woman in a linsey-woolsey dress, corn sun-bonnet, and
+a huge cane. She looked at the Tunker suspiciously, yet seemed to retard
+her steps that he might overtake her.</p>
+
+<p>"My good woman," said the latter, coming up to her, "I am not sure of my
+way."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to go to the Pigeon Creek&mdash;settlement&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you ought to have kept the way when you had it."</p>
+
+<p>"But, my good woman, I am a stranger in these parts. A boy has directed
+me, but I feel uncertain. What do you do when you lose your way?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't lose it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But if you were&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd just turn to the right, and keep right straight ahead till I found
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"True, true; but this is a new country to me. I am one of the Brethren."</p>
+
+<p>"Ye be, be ye? I thought you were one of them land agents. One of the
+Brethren. I'm proper glad. Who were you lookin' for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Crawford's school."</p>
+
+<p>"The college? Am you're goin' there? I go over there sometimes to see
+him wallop the boys. We must all have discipline in life, you know, and
+it is best to begin with the young. Crawford does. They say that
+Crawford teaches clear to the rule of three, whatever that may be. One
+added to one is more than one, according to the Scriptur'; now isn't it?
+One added to one is almost three. Is that what they call high
+mathematics? I never got further than the multiplication-table, though I
+am a friend to education. My name is Olive Eastman. What's yourn?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't? One of the old patriarchs, like. Well, I live this way&mdash;you
+go <i>that</i>. 'Tain't more'n half a mile to Crawford's&mdash;close to the
+meetin'-'ouse. Mebby you'll preach there, and I'll hear ye. Glad I met
+ye now, and to see who you be. They call me Aunt Olive sometimes, and
+sometimes Aunt Indiana. I settled Pigeon Creek, or husband and I did. He
+was kind o' weakly; he's gone now, and I live all alone. I'd be glad to
+have you come over and preach at the 'ouse, though I might not believe a
+word on't. I'm a Methody; most people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> are Baptist down here, like the
+Linkuns, but we is all ready to listen to a Tunker. People are only
+responsible for what they know; and there are some good people among the
+Tunkers, I've hern tell. Now don't go off into some by-path into the
+woods. Tom Lincoln he see a bear there the other day, but he wouldn't
+'a' shot it if it had been an elephant with tusks of ivory and gold.
+Some folks haven't no calculation. The Lincolns hain't. Good-by."</p>
+
+<p>The Tunker was a middle-aged man of probably forty-five or more years.
+He had a benevolent face, large, sympathetic eyes, and a patriarchal
+beard. His garments had hooks instead of buttons. He carried a leather
+bag in which were a Bible and a hymn-book, some German works of
+Zinzendorf, and his cobbling-tools. We can not wonder that the boy
+stared after him. He would have looked oddly anywhere.</p>
+
+<p>My reader may not know who a Tunker was, as our wandering schoolmaster
+was called. A Tunker, or Dunker, was one of a sect of German Baptists or
+Quakers, who were formerly very numerous in Pennsylvania and Ohio. The
+order numbered at one time some thirty thousand souls. They called
+themselves Brethren, but were commonly known as "Tunkards," or
+"Dunkards," from a German word meaning to <i>dip</i>. At their baptisms they
+dip the body of a convert three times; and so in their own land they
+received the name of Tunkers, or <i>dippers</i>, and this name followed them
+into Holland and to America. A large number of the Brethren settled in
+Germantown, Pa. Thence they wandered into Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois,
+preaching and teaching and doing useful work. Like the Quakers, they
+have now nearly disappeared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Their doctrines were peculiar, but their lives were unselfish and pure,
+and their influence blameless. They believed in being led by the inner
+light; that the soul was a seat of divine and spiritual authority, and
+that the Spirit came to them as a direct revelation. They did not eat
+meat or drink wine. They washed each other's feet after their religious
+services, wore their beards long, and gave themselves new names that
+they might not be tempted by any worldly ambitions or rivalries. They
+thought it wrong to take oaths, to hold slaves, or to treat the Indians
+differently from other men. They would receive no payment for preaching,
+but held that it was the duty of all men to live by what they earned by
+their own labor. They traveled wherever they felt moved to go by the
+inward monitor. They were a peculiar people, but the prairie States owe
+much that was good to their influence. The new settlers were usually
+glad to see the old Tunker when he appeared among them, and to receive
+his message, and women and children felt the loss of this benevolent
+sympathy when he went away. He established no church, yet all people
+believed in his sincerity, and most people listened to him with respect
+and reverence. The sect closely resembled the old Jewish order of the
+Essenes, except that they did not wear the garment of white, but loose
+garments without buttons.</p>
+
+<p>The scene of the Tunker's journey was in Spencer County, Indiana, near
+the present town of Gentryville. This county was rapidly being occupied
+by immigrants, and it was to this new people that Jasper the Parable
+believed himself to be guided by the monitor within.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the afternoon he passed several clearings and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> cabins, where he
+stopped to receive directions to the school-house and meeting-house.</p>
+
+<p>The country was one vast wilderness. For the most part it was covered
+with gigantic trees, though here and there a rich prairie opened out of
+the timber. There were oaks gray with centuries, and elms jacketed with
+moss, in whose high boughs the orioles in summer builded and sang, and
+under which the bluebells grew. There were black-walnut forests in
+places, with timber almost as hard as horn. The woods in many places
+were open, like colonnades, and carpeted with green moss. There were no
+restrictions of law here, or very few. One might pitch his tent
+anywhere, and live where he pleased. The land, as a rule, was common.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper came at last to a clearing with a rude cabin, near which was a
+three-faced camp, as a house of poles with one open side was called.
+Spencer County was near the Kentucky border, and the climate was so warm
+that a family could live there in a house of poles in comfort for most
+of the year.</p>
+
+<p>As Jasper the Parable came up to the log-house, which had neither hinged
+doors nor glass windows, a large, rough, good-humored-looking man came
+out to the gate to meet him, and stood there leaning upon a low
+gate-post.</p>
+
+<p>"Howdy, stranger?" said the hardy pioneer. "What brings you to these
+parts&mdash;lookin' fer a place to settle down at?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my good friend&mdash;I'm obliged to you for speaking so kindly to a
+wayfarer&mdash;peace be with you&mdash;I am looking for the school-house. Can you
+direct me there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon. Then you be going to see the school? Good for ye. A great
+school that Crawford keeps. I've got a boy and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> girl in that there
+school myself. The boy, if I do say it now, is the smartest fellow in
+all the country round&mdash;and the laziest. Smart at the top, but it don't
+go down. Runs all to larnin'. Just reads and studies about all the time,
+speaks pieces, and preaches on stumps, and makes poetry, and things. I
+don't know what will ever become of him. He's a queer one. My name is
+Linkem" (Lincoln)&mdash;"Thomas Linkem. What's yourn?"</p>
+
+<p>"They call me Jasper the Parable&mdash;that is my new name. I'm one of the
+Brethren. No offense, I hope&mdash;just one of the Brethren."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you be&mdash;a Tunker. Well, we'll all be proper glad to see you down
+here. I come from Kentuck. Where did you come from?"</p>
+
+<p>"From Pennsylvania, here. I was born in Germany."</p>
+
+<p>"Sho, you did? From Pennsylvany! And how far are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to meet Black Hawk. My good friend, I stop and preach and
+teach and cobble along the way."</p>
+
+<p>"What! Black Hawk, the chief? Is it him you're goin' to see? You're an
+Indian agent, perhaps, travelin' for the State or the fur-traders?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I am not a trader of any kind. I am going to meet Black Hawk at
+Rock River. He has promised me a young Indian guide, who will show me
+all these paths and act as an interpreter, and gain for me a passage
+among all the Indian tribes. I have met Black Hawk before."</p>
+
+<p>"You've been to Illinois, have ye? Glad to hear ye say so. What kind of
+a kentry is that, now? I've sometimes thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> of going there myself. It
+ain't over-healthy here. Say, stranger, come back and stop with us after
+you've been to the school. I haven't any great accommodations, as you
+see, but I will do the best I can for you, and it will make my wife and
+Abe and the gal proper glad to have a talk with a preacher. Ye will,
+won't ye, now? Say yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, if it is so ordered, friend. Thank you, yes. I feel moved to
+say that I will come back. You are very good, my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, come back and see us all. I won't detain ye any longer now.
+You see that there openin'? Well, you just follow that path as the crow
+flies, and you'll come to the school-'ouse. Good-day,
+stranger&mdash;good-day."</p>
+
+<p>It was early spring, a season always beautiful in southern Indiana. The
+buds were swelling; the woodpeckers were tapping the old trees, and the
+migrating birds were returning to their old homes in the tree-tops.
+Jasper went along singing, for his heart was happy, and he felt the
+cheerful influence of the vernal air. The birds to him were prophets and
+choirs, and the murmur of the south winds in the trees was a sermon. A
+right and receptive spirit sees good in everything, and so Jasper sang
+as he walked along the footpath.</p>
+
+<p>The school-house came into view. It was built of round logs, and was
+scarcely higher than a tall man's head. The chimney was large, and was
+constructed of poles and clay, and the floor and furniture were made of
+puncheons, as split logs were called. The windows consisted of rough
+slats and oiled paper. The door was open, and Jasper came up and stood
+before it. How strange the new country all seemed to him!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The schoolmaster came to the door. He affected gentlemanly and almost
+courtly manners, and bowed low.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this Mr. Crawford, may I ask?" said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"Andrew Crawford. And whom have I the honor of meeting?"</p>
+
+<p>"My new name is Jasper. I am one of the Brethren. They call me the
+Parable. I am on my way to Rock Island, Illinois, to meet Black Hawk,
+the chief, who has promised to assist me with a guide and interpreter
+for my missionary journeys among the new settlements and the tribes. I
+have come, may it please you, to visit the school. I am a teacher
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>"You do us great honor, and I assure you that you are very welcome&mdash;very
+welcome. Come in."</p>
+
+<p>The scholars stared, and presented a very strange appearance. The boys
+were dressed in buckskin breeches and linsey-woolsey shirts, and the
+girls in homespun gowns of most economical patterns. The furniture
+seemed all pegs and puncheons. The one cheerful object in the room was
+the enormous fireplace. The pupils delighted to keep this fed with fuel
+in the chilly winter days, and the very ashes had cheerful suggestions.
+It was all ashes now, for the sun was high, and the spring falls warm
+and early in the forests of southern Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>It was past mid afternoon, and the slanting sun was glimmering in the
+tops of the gigantic forest-trees seen from the open door.</p>
+
+<p>"We have nearly completed the exercises of the day," said Mr. Crawford.
+"I have yet to hear the spelling-class, and to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> conduct the exercises in
+manners. I teach manners. Shall I go on in the usual way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, may it please you&mdash;yes, in the usual way&mdash;in the usual way.
+You are very kind."</p>
+
+<p>"You do me great honor.&mdash;The class in spelling," said Mr. Crawford,
+turning to the school. Five boys and girls stood up, and came to an open
+space in front of the desk. The recitation of this class was something
+most odd and amusing to Jasper, and so it would seem to a teacher of
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Incompatibility</i>" said Mr. Crawford. "You may make your manners and
+spell <i>incompatibility</i>, Sarah."</p>
+
+<p>A tall girl with a high forehead and very short dress gave a modest and
+abashed glance at the wandering visitor, blushed, courtesied very low,
+and thus began the rhythmic exercise of spelling the word in the
+old-time way:</p>
+
+<p>"I-n, in; there's your in. C-o-m, com, incom; there's your incom; incom.
+P-a-t, pat, compat, incompat; there's your incompat; incompat. I-, pati,
+compati, incompati; there's your incompati; incompati. B-i-l, bil; ibil,
+patibil, compatibil, incompatibil; there's your incompatibil;
+incompatibil. I-, bili, patibili, compatibili, incompatibili; there's
+your incompatibili; incompatibili. T-y, ty, ity, bility, ibility,
+patibility, compatibility, incompatibility; there's your
+incompatibility; <i>incompatibility</i>."</p>
+
+<p>The girl seemed dazed after this mazy effort. Mr. Crawford bowed, and
+Jasper the Parable looked serene, and remarked, encouragingly:</p>
+
+<p>"Extraordinary! I never heard a word spelled in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> way. This is an
+age of wonders. One meets with strange things everywhere. I should think
+that that girl would make a teacher one day; and the new country will
+soon need teachers. The girl did well."</p>
+
+<p>"You do me great honor," said Mr. Crawford, bowing like a courtier. "I
+appreciate it, I assure you; I appreciate it, and thank you. I have
+aimed to make my school the best in the country. Your commendation
+encourages me to hope that I have not failed."</p>
+
+<p>But these polite and generous compliments were exchanged a little too
+soon. The next word that Mr. Crawford gave out from the "Speller" was
+<i>obliquity</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Jason, make your manners and spell <i>obliquity</i>. Take your hands out of
+your pockets; that isn't manners. Take your hands out of your pockets
+and spell <i>obliquity</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Jason was a tall lad, in a jean blouse and leather breeches. His hair
+was tangled and his ankles were bare. He seemed to have a loss of
+confidence, but he bobbed his head for manners, and began to spell in a
+very loud voice, that had in it almost the sharpness of defiance.</p>
+
+<p>"O-b, ob; there's your ob; ob." He made a leer. "L-i-k, lik, oblik;
+there's your oblik&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Mr. Crawford, with a look of vexation and disappointment.
+"Try again."</p>
+
+<p>Jason took a higher key of voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Wall, O-b, ob; there's your ob; ain't it? L-i-c-k, and there's your
+lick&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Take your seat!" thundered Mr. Crawford. "I'll give you a <i>lick</i> after
+school. Think of bringing obliquity upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> school in the presence of
+a teacher from the Old World! Next!"</p>
+
+<p>But the next pupil became lost in the mazes of the improved method of
+spelling, and the class brought dishonor upon the really conscientious
+and ambitious teacher.</p>
+
+<p>The exercise in manners partly redeemed the disaster.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln, stand up."</p>
+
+<p>A tall boy arose, and his head almost touched the ceiling. He was
+dressed in a linsey-woolsey frock, with buckskin breeches which were
+much too short for him. His ankles were exposed, and his feet were
+poorly covered. His face was dark and serious. He did not look like one
+whom an unseen Power had chosen to control one day the destiny of
+nations, to call a million men to arms, and to emancipate a race.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln, you may go out, and come in and be introduced."</p>
+
+<p>It required but a few steps to take the young giant out of the door. He
+presently returned, knocking.</p>
+
+<p>"James Sparrow, you may go to the door," said Mr. Crawford.</p>
+
+<p>The boy arose, went to the door, and bowed very properly.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-afternoon, Mr. Lincoln. I am glad to see you. Come in. If it
+please you, I will present you to my friends."</p>
+
+<p>Abraham entered, as in response to this courtly parrot-talk.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Crawford, may I have the honor of presenting to you my friend
+Abraham Lincoln?&mdash;Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Crawford."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/illus-028.jpg" width="330" height="500" alt="The Tunker Schoolmaster&#39;s Class in Manners." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Tunker Schoolmaster&#39;s Class in Manners.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Crawford bowed slowly and condescendingly. Abraham was then
+introduced to each of the members of the school, and the exercise was a
+very creditable one, under the untoward circumstances. And this shall be
+our own introduction to one of the heroes of our story, and, following
+this odd introduction, we will here make our readers somewhat better
+acquainted with Jasper the Parable.</p>
+
+<p>He was born in Thuringia, not far from the Baths of Liebenstein. His
+father was a German, but his mother was of English descent, and he had
+visited England with her in his youth, and so spoke the English language
+naturally and perfectly. He had become an advocate of the plans of
+Pestalozzi, the father of common-school education, in his early life.
+One of the most intimate friends of his youth was Froebel, afterward the
+founder of the kindergarten system of education. With Froebel he had
+entered the famous regiment of L&uuml;tzow; he had met K&ouml;rner, and sang the
+"Wild Hunt of L&uuml;tzow," by Von Weber, as it came from the composer's pen,
+the song which is said to have driven Napoleon over the Rhine. He had
+married, lost wife and children, become melancholy and despondent, and
+finally fallen under the influence of the preaching of a Tunker, and had
+taken the resolution to give up himself entirely, his will and desires,
+and to live only for others, and to follow the spiritual impression,
+which he believed to be the Divine will. He was simple and sincere. His
+friends had treated him ill on his becoming a Tunker, but he forgave
+them all, and said: "You reject me from your hearts and homes. I will go
+to the new country, and perhaps I may find there a better place for us
+all. If I do, I will return to you and treat you as Joseph treated his
+brethren. You are oppressed; you have to bear arms for years. I am left
+alone in the world. Something calls me over the sea."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He lived near Marienthal, the Vale of Mary. It was a lovely place, and
+his heart loved it and all the old German villages, with their songs and
+children's festivals, churches, and graves. He bade farewell to Froebel.
+"I am going to study life," he said, "in the wilderness of the New
+World." He came to Pennsylvania, and met the Brethren there who had come
+from Germany, and then traveled with an Indian agent to Rock Island,
+Illinois, where he had met Black Hawk. Here he resolved to become a
+traveling teacher, preacher, and missionary, after the usages of his
+order, and he asked Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide.</p>
+
+<p>"Return to me in May," said the chief, "and I will provide you with as
+noble a son of the forest as ever breathed the air."</p>
+
+<p>He returned to Ohio, and was now on his way to visit the old chief
+again.</p>
+
+<p>The country was a wonder to him. Coming from middle Germany and the
+Rhine lands, everything seemed vast and limitless. The prairies with
+their bluebells, the prairie islands with their giant trees, the forests
+that shaded the streams, were all like a legend, a fairy story, a dream.
+He admired the heroic spirit of the pioneers, and he took the Indians to
+his heart. In this spirit he began to travel over the unbroken prairies
+of Indiana and Illinois.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The red sun was glimmering through the leafless boughs of the great oaks
+when Jasper again came to the gate of Thomas Lincoln's log cabin. Mr.
+Crawford had remained after school with the tall boy who had brought
+"obliquity" upon the spelling-class. Tradition reports that there was a
+great rattling of leather breeches, and expostulations, and lamentations
+at such solemn, private interviews. Mr. Crawford, who was "great on
+thrashing," no doubt did his duty as he understood it at that private
+session at sundown. Sticks were plenty in those days, and the will to
+use them strong among most pioneer schoolmasters.</p>
+
+<p>Abraham Lincoln and his sister accompanied Jasper to the log-house. They
+heard the lusty cry for consideration and mercy in the log school-house
+as they were going, and stopped to listen. Jasper did not approve of
+this rugged discipline.</p>
+
+<p>"I should not treat the boy in that way," said he philosophically.</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't?" said Abraham. "Why? Crawford is a great teacher; he
+knows everything. He can cipher as far as the rule of three."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, lad, but the true purpose of education is to form character. Fear
+does not make true worth, but counterfeit character. If education fails
+to produce real character, it fails utterly. True education is a matter
+of the soul as much as of the mind. It should make a boy want to do
+right because it is the right thing to do right. Anything that fails to
+produce character for its own sake, and not for a selfish reason, is a
+mistake. But what am I doing&mdash;criticising? Now, that is wrong. I seemed
+to be talking with Froebel. Yes, Crawford is a great teacher, all things
+considered. He does well who does his best. You have a great school. It
+is not like the old German schools, but you do well."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper began a discourse about Pestalozzi and that great thinker's views
+of universal education. But the words were lost on the air. The views of
+Pestalozzi were not much discussed in southern Indiana at this time,
+though the idea of common-school education prevailed everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Lincoln stood at the gate awaiting the return of Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm proper glad that you've come back to see us all," said he. "Wife
+has been lookin' for ye. What did you think of the school? Great, isn't
+it? That Crawford is a big man in these parts. They say he can cipher to
+the rule of three, whatever that may be. Indiana is going to be great on
+education, in my opinion."</p>
+
+<p>He was right. Indiana, with an investment of some ten million of dollars
+for public education, and with an army of well-trained teachers, leads
+the middle West in the excellence of her schools. Her model school
+system, which to-day would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> delight a Pestalozzi or a Froebel, had its
+rude beginning in schools like Crawford's.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come in," said Thomas Lincoln, and led the way into the
+log-house.</p>
+
+<p>"This is my wife," said he to Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>The woman had a serene and benevolent face. Her features were open and
+plain, but there was heart-life in them. It was a face that could have
+been molded only by a truly good heart. It was strong, long-suffering,
+sympathetic, and self-restrained. Her forehead was high and thoughtful,
+her eyes large and expressive, and her voice loving and cheerful. Jasper
+felt at once that he was in the presence of a woman of decision of
+character.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are a Tunker," she said. "I am a Baptist, too, but not your
+kind. But such things matter little if the heart is right."</p>
+
+<p>"You have well said," answered Jasper. "The true life is in the soul. We
+both belong to the same kingdom, and shall have the same life and drink
+from the same fountain and eat the same bread. Have you been here long?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "and we have seen some dark days. We lived
+in the half-faced camp out yonder when I first came here. My first wife
+died of milk-sickness here. She was Abraham's mother. Ever heard of the
+milk-sickness, as the fever was called? It swept away a great many of
+the early inhabitants. Those were dark, dark days. I shall never forget
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"So your real mother is dead," said Jasper to Abraham.</p>
+
+<p>"I try to be a mother to him, poor boy," said Mrs. Lincoln.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> "Abraham is
+good to me and to everybody; one of the best boys I ever knew, though I
+ought not to praise him to his face. He does the best he can."</p>
+
+<p>"Awful lazy. You didn't tell that," said Thomas Lincoln; "all head and
+books. He is. I believe in tellin' the whole truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well," said Mrs. Lincoln, "some persons work with their hands, and
+some with their heads, and some with their hearts. Abraham's head is
+always at work&mdash;he isn't like most other boys. And as far as his
+heart&mdash;Well, I do love that boy, and I am his step-mother, too. He's
+always been so good to me that I love to tell on't. His father, I'm
+thinkin', is rather hard on him sometimes. Abe's heart knows mine and I
+know his'n, and I couldn't think more on him if he was my own son. His
+poor mother sleeps out there under the great trees; but I mean to be
+such a mother to him that he will never know no difference."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "Abraham does middlin' well, considerin'.
+But he does provoke me sometimes. He would provoke old Job himself. Why,
+he will take a book with him into the corn-field, and he reads and
+reads, and his head gets loose and goes off into the air, and he puts
+the pumpkin-seeds in the wrong hills, like as not. He is great on the
+English Reader. I'd just like for you to hear him recite poetry out of
+that book. He's great on poetry; writes it himself. But that isn't
+neither here nor there. Come, preacher, we'll have some supper."</p>
+
+<p>The Tunker lifted his hand and said grace, after which the family sat
+down to the table.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We used to eat off a puncheon when we first came to these parts," said
+Mr. Lincoln. "We had no beds, and we slept on a floor of pounded clay.
+My new wife brought all of this grand furniture to me. That beereau
+looks extravagant&mdash;now don't it?&mdash;for poor folks, too. I sometimes think
+that she ought to sell it. I am told that in a city place it would be
+worth as much as fifty dollars."</p>
+
+<p>There were indeed a few good articles of furniture in the house.</p>
+
+<p>The supper consisted of corn-bread of very rough meal, and of bacon,
+eggs, and coffee.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you smoke?" asked Mr. Lincoln, when the meal was over.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Jasper. "I have given up everything of that kind, luxuries,
+and even my own name. Let us talk about our experiences. There is no
+news in the world like the news from the soul. A man's inner life and
+experience are about all that is worth talking about. It is the king
+that makes the crown."</p>
+
+<p>But Thomas Lincoln was not a man of deep inward experiences and
+subjective ideas, though his first wife had been such a person, and
+would have delighted Jasper. Mr. Lincoln liked best to talk about his
+family and the country, and was more interested in the slow news that
+came from the new settlements than in the revelations from a higher
+world. His former wife, Abraham's mother, had been a mystic, but there
+was little sentiment in him.</p>
+
+<p>"You said that you were going to meet Black Hawk," said Mr. Lincoln.
+"Where do you expect to find him? He's everywhere, ain't he?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am going to the Sac village at Rock Island. It is a long journey, but
+the Voice tells me to go."</p>
+
+<p>"That is away across the Illinois, on the Mississippi River, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the Sac village looks down on the Mississippi. It is a beautiful
+place. The prairies spread around it like seas. I love to think of it.
+It commands a noble view. I do not wonder that the Indians love it, and
+made it the burial-place of their race. I would love it myself."</p>
+
+<p>"You favor the Indians, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. All men are my brothers. The field is the world. I am going to try
+to preach and teach among the Sacs and Foxes, as soon as I can find an
+interpreter, and Black Hawk has promised me one. He has sent for him to
+come down to Rock Island and meet me. He lives at Prairie du Chien, far
+away in the north, I am told."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you have any antipathy against the Indians, preacher?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, none at all. Do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"My father was murdered by an Indian. Let me tell you about it. Not that
+I want to discourage you&mdash;you mean well; but I don't feel altogether as
+you do about the red-skins, preacher. You and Abe would agree better on
+the subject than you and I. Abe is tender-hearted&mdash;takes after his
+mother."</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Lincoln filled his pipe. "Abe," as his oldest boy was called, sat
+in the fireplace, "the flue," as it was termed. By his side sat John
+Hanks, who had recently arrived from Kentucky&mdash;a rough, kindly-looking
+man.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;">
+<img src="images/illus-038.jpg" width="457" height="450" alt="Lines written by Lincoln on the Leaf of his School-book
+in his Fourteenth Year." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," said great-hearted Mrs. Lincoln&mdash;"wait a minute before
+you begin."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do, mother (wife)?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just going to set these potatoes to roast before the fire, so we
+can have a little treat all by ourselves when you have got through your
+story. There, that is all."</p>
+
+<p>The poor woman sat down by the table&mdash;she had brought the table to her
+husband on her marriage; he probably never owned a table&mdash;and began to
+knit, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham, you mind the potatoes. Don't let 'em burn."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother"&mdash;the word seemed to make her happy. Her face lighted. She sat
+knitting for an hour, silent and serene, while Thomas Lincoln talked.</p>
+
+
+<h3><i>THOMAS LINCOLN'S STORY.</i></h3>
+
+<p>"My father," began the old story-teller, "came to Kentucky from
+Virginia. His name was Abraham Lincoln. I have always thought that was a
+good, solid name&mdash;a worthy name&mdash;and so I gave it to my boy here, and
+hope that he will never bring any disgrace upon it. I never can be much
+in this world; Abe may.</p>
+
+<p>"This was in Daniel Boone's day. On our way to Kentucky we began to hear
+terrible stories of the Indian attacks on the new settlers. In 1780, the
+year that we emigrated from Virginia, there were many murders of the
+settlers by the Indians, which were followed by the battle of Lower Blue
+Licks, in which Boone's son was wounded.</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard my mother and the old settlers talk over that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> battle.
+When Daniel Boone found that his son was wounded, he tried to carry him
+away. There was a river near, and he lifted the boy upon his back and
+hurried toward it. As he came to the river, the boy grew heavy.</p>
+
+<p>"'Father, I believe that I am dying,' said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"'We will be across the river soon,' said Boone. 'Hold on.'</p>
+
+<p>"The boy clung to his father's neck with stiffening arms. While they
+were crossing the river the son died. Oh, it was a sight for pity&mdash;now,
+wasn't it, preacher? Boone in the river, with the dead body of his boy
+on his back. Our country has known few scenes like that. How that father
+must 'a' felt! You furriners little know these things.</p>
+
+<p>"The Indians swam after him. He laid down the body of his son on the
+ground and struck into the forest.</p>
+
+<p>"It was in this war that Boone's little daughter was carried away by the
+Indians. I must tell ye. I love to talk of old times.</p>
+
+<p>"She was at play with two other little girls outside of the stockade at
+Boonesborough, on the Kentucky River. There was a canoe on the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"'Let us take the canoe and go across the river,' said one of the girls,
+innocent-like.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they got into the boat and paddled across the running river to
+the opposite side. They reached shallow water, when a party of Indians,
+who had been watching them, cunning-like, stole out of the thick trees
+'n' rushed down to the canoe 'n' drew it to the shore. The girls
+screamed, and their cries were heard at the fort.</p>
+
+<p>"Night was falling. Three of the Indians took a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> girl apiece,
+and, looking back to the fort in the sunset, uttered a shriek of
+defiance, such as would ha' made yer flesh creep, and disappeared in the
+timber.</p>
+
+<p>"That night a party was got together at the fort to pursue the Indians
+and rescue the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, near the close of the next day the party came upon these Indians,
+some forty miles from the fort. They approached the camp cautiously,
+coyote-like, 'n' saw that the girls were there.</p>
+
+<p>"'Shoot carefully, now,' said the leader. 'Each man bring down an
+Indian, or the children will be killed before we can reach them.'</p>
+
+<p>"They fired upon the Indians, picking out the three who were nearest the
+children. Not one of the Indians was hit, but the whole party was
+terribly frightened, leaped up, 'n' run like deer. The children were
+rescued unharmed 'n' taken back to the fort. You would think them was
+pretty hard times, wouldn't ye?</p>
+
+<p>"There was one event that happened at the time about which I have heard
+the old folks tell, with staring eyes, and I will never forget it. The
+Indians came one night to attack a log-house in which were a man, his
+wife, and daughter, named Merrill. They did not wish to burn the cabin,
+but to enter it and make captives of the family; so they cut a hole in
+the door, with their hatchets, large enough to crawl through one at a
+time. They wounded Mr. Merrill outright.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mrs. Merrill was a host in herself. Her only weapon was an axe, and
+there never was fought in Kentucky, or anywhere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> else in the world, I'm
+thinkin', such another battle as that.</p>
+
+<p>"The leader of the Indians put his head through the hole in the door and
+began to crawl into the room, slowly&mdash;slowly&mdash;so&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lincoln put out his great arms, and moved his hands mysteriously.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he continued, "what do you suppose happened? Mrs. Merrill she
+dealt that Indian a death-blow on the head with the axe, just like
+<i>that</i>, and then drew him in slowly, slowly. The Indians without thought
+that he had crawled in himself, and another Indian followed him slowly,
+slowly. That Indian received his death-blow on the head, and was pulled
+in like the first, slowly. Another and another Indian were treated in
+the same way, until the dark cabin floor presented an awful scene for
+the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Only one or two were left without. The women felt that they were now
+the masters in the contest, and stood looking on what they had done.
+There fell a silence over the place. Still, awful still everywhere. What
+a silence it was! The two Indians outside listened. Why were their
+comrades so still? What had happened? Why was everything so still? One
+of them tried to look through the hole in the door into the dark and
+bloody room. Then the two attempted to climb down the chimney from the
+low roof of the cabin, but Mrs. Merrill put her bed into the fireplace
+and set it on fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Such were some of the scenes of my father's few years of life in
+Kentucky; and now comes the most dreadful memory of all. Oh, it makes me
+wild to think o' it! Preacher,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> as I said, my father was killed by the
+Indians. You did not know that before, did you? No; well, it was so.
+Abraham Lincoln was shot by the red-skins. I was with him at the time, a
+little boy then, and I shall never forget that awful morning&mdash;never,
+never!&mdash;Abraham, mind the potatoes; you've heard the story a hundred
+times."</p>
+
+<p>Young Abraham Lincoln turned the potatoes and brightened the fire.
+Thomas Lincoln bent over and rested his body on his knees, and held his
+pipe out in one hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Preacher, listen. One morning father looked out of the cabin door, and
+said to mother:</p>
+
+<p>"'I must go to the field and build a fence to-day. I will let Tommy go
+with me.'</p>
+
+<p>"I was Tommy. I was six years old then. He loved me, and liked to have
+me with him. It was in the year 1784&mdash;I never shall forget the dark days
+of that year!&mdash;never, never.</p>
+
+<p>"I had two brothers older than myself, Mordecai and Josiah. We give boys
+Scriptur' names in those days. They had gone to work in another field
+near by.</p>
+
+<p>"We went to the field where the rails were to be cut and laid, and
+father began to work. He was a great, noble-looking man, and a true
+pioneer. I can see him now. I was playing near him, when suddenly there
+came a shot as it were out of the air. My poor father reeled over and
+fell down dead. What must have been his last thoughts of my mother and
+her five children? I have often thought of that&mdash;what must have been his
+last thoughts? Well, Preacher, you listen.</p>
+
+<p>"A band of Indians came leaping out of the bush howling like demons. I
+fell upon the ground. I can sense the fright<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> now. A tall, black Indian,
+with a face like a wolf, came and stood over me, and was about to seize
+hold of me. I could hear him breathe. There came a shot from the house,
+and the Indian dropped down beside me, dead. My brother Mordecai had
+seen father fall, 'n' ran to the house 'n' fired that shot that saved my
+life. Josiah had gone to the stockade for help, and he returned soon
+with armed men, and the Indians disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"O Preacher, those were dark days, wasn't they? Dark, dark days! You
+never saw such. They took up my father's body&mdash;what a sight!&mdash;and bore
+it into the cabin. You should have seen my poor mother then. What was to
+help us? Only the blue heavens were left us then. What could we do? My
+mother and five children alone in the wilderness full of savages!</p>
+
+<p>"Preacher, I have seen dark days! I have known what it was to be poor
+and supperless and friendless; but I never sought revenge on the
+Indians, though Mordecai did. I'm glad that you're going to preach among
+them. I couldn't do it, with such memories as mine, perhaps; but I'm
+glad you can, 'n' I hope that you will go and do them good. Heaven bless
+those who seek to do good in this sinful world&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham, are the potatoes done?" said a gentle voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Then pass them 'round. Give the preacher one first; then your father. I
+do not care for any."</p>
+
+<p>The tall boy passed the roasted potatoes around as directed. Jasper ate
+his potato in silence. The stories of the hardships of this forest
+family had filled his heart with sympathy, and Thomas Lincoln had
+<i>acted</i> the stories that he told in such a way as to leave a most vivid
+impression on his mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"These stories make you sad," said Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper. "They are
+heart-rendin', and I sometimes think it is almost wrong to tell them. Do
+you think it is right to tell a story that awakens hard and rebellious
+feelin's? 'Evil communications corrupt good manners,' the Good Book
+says. I sometimes wish that folks would tell only stories that are good,
+and make one the better for hearin'&mdash;parables like."</p>
+
+<p>"My heart feels for you all," said Jasper. "I feel for everybody. This
+life is all new to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us have something more cheerful now," said Mrs. Lincoln.&mdash;"Abraham,
+recite to the preacher a piece from the English Reader."</p>
+
+<p>"Which one, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Hermit&mdash;how would that do? I don't know much about poetry, but
+Abraham does. He makes it up. It is a queer turn of mind he has. He
+learns all the poetry that he can find, and makes it up himself out of
+his own head. He's got poetry in him, though he don't look so. How he
+ever does it, puzzles me. His mother was poetic like. It is a gift, like
+grace. Where do you suppose it comes from, and what will he ever do with
+it? He ain't like other boys. He's kind o' peculiar some.&mdash;Come,
+Abraham, recite to us The Hermit. It is a proper good piece."</p>
+
+<p>The tall boy came out of "the flue" and stood before the dying fire. The
+old leather-covered English Reader, which he said in later life was the
+best book ever written, lay on the table before him. He did not open it,
+however. He put his hands behind him and raised his dark face as in a
+kind of abstraction. He began to recite slowly in a clear voice, full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+of a peculiar sympathy that gave color to every word. He seemed as
+though he felt that the experience of the poet was somehow a prophecy of
+his own life; and it was. He himself became a skeptical man in religious
+thought, but returned to the simple faith of his ancestors amid the dark
+scenes of war.</p>
+
+<p>The poem was a beautiful one in form and soul, an old English pastoral,
+by Beattie. How grand it seemed, even to unpoetic Thomas Lincoln, as it
+flowed from the lips of his studious son!</p>
+
+<h3><i>THE HERMIT.</i></h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more with himself or with Nature at war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah, why, all abandoned to darkness and woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For spring shall return, and a lover bestow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sorrow no longer thy bosom inthrall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O soothe him whose pleasures like thine pass away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Full quickly they pass&mdash;but they never return.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The moon, half extinguished, her crescent displays:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But lately I marked when majestic on high<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The path that conducts thee to splendor again:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But man's faded glory what change shall renew?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, fool! to exult in a glory so vain!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I mourn; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when shall spring visit the moldering urn?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Twas thus by the glare of false science betrayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Destruction before me, and sorrow behind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Oh pity, great Father of light,' then I cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Thy creature who fain would not wander from thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And darkness and doubt are now flying away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lincoln used to listen to such recitations as this from the English
+Readers and Kentucky Orators with delight and wonder. She loved the boy
+with all her heart. In all the biographies of Lincoln there is hardly a
+more pathetic incident than one told by Mr. Herndon of his visit to Mrs.
+Lincoln after the assassination and the national funeral. Mr. Herndon
+was the law partner of Lincoln for many years, and we give the incident
+here, out of place as it is. Mrs. Lincoln said to her step-son's friend:</p>
+
+<p>"Abe was a poor boy, and I can say what scarcely one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> woman&mdash;a
+mother&mdash;can say, in a thousand: Abe never gave me a cross word or look,
+and never refused, in fact or appearance, to do anything I requested
+him. I never gave him a cross word in all my life.... His mind and my
+mind&mdash;what little I had&mdash;seemed to run together.... He was here after he
+was elected President." Here she stopped, unable to proceed any further,
+and after her grateful emotions had spent themselves in tears, she
+proceeded: "He was dutiful to me always. I think he loved me truly. I
+had a son, John, who was raised with Abe. Both were good boys; but I
+must say, both being now dead, that Abe was the best boy I ever saw or
+ever expect to see. I wish I had died when my husband died. I did not
+want Abe to run for President, did not want him elected; was afraid,
+somehow&mdash;felt it in my heart; and when he came down to see me, after he
+was elected President, I felt that something would befall him, and that
+I should see him no more."</p>
+
+<p>Equally beautiful was the scene when Lincoln visited this good woman for
+the last time, just before going to Washington to be inaugurated
+President.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham," she said, as she stood in her humble backwoods cabin,
+"something tells me that I shall never see you again."</p>
+
+<p>He put his hand around her neck, lifted her face to heaven and said,
+"Mother!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY-TELLERS.</h3>
+
+
+<h4><i>JOHNNIE KONGAPOD'S INCREDIBLE STORY.</i></h4>
+
+<p>The country store, in most new settlements, is the resort of
+story-tellers. It was not so here. There was a log blacksmith-shop by
+the wayside near the Gentryville store, overspread by the cool boughs of
+pleasant trees, and having a glowing forge and wide-open doors, which
+was a favorite resort of 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 clear practical thought to Legislatures,
+senates, and councils of war. Abraham Lincoln claimed that he obtained
+his education by learning all that he could of any one who could teach
+him anything. In all the curious stories told in his hearing in this
+quaint Indiana smithy, he read some lesson of life.</p>
+
+<p>The old blacksmith was a natural story-teller. Young Lincoln liked to
+warm himself by the forge in winter and sun himself in the open door in
+summer, and tempt this sinewy man to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> talk. The smithy was a common
+resort of Thomas Lincoln, 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-stand of that day, the
+literary club, the lecture platform, the place of amusement, and
+everything that stirred associated life, found its common center in this
+rude old smithy by the wayside, amid the running brooks and fanning
+trees.</p>
+
+<p>The stories told here were the curious incidents and adventures of
+pioneer life, rude in fact and rough in language, but having pith and
+point.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Lincoln, on the afternoon of the next day, said to Jasper:</p>
+
+<p>"Come, preacher, let's go over to the smithy. I want ye to see the
+blacksmith. We all like to see the blacksmith in these parts; he's an
+uncommon man."</p>
+
+<p>They went to the smithy. Abraham followed them. The forge was low, and
+the blacksmith was hammering over old nails on the anvil.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" said Thomas Lincoln; "not doin' much to-day. I brought the
+preacher over to call on you&mdash;he's a Tunker&mdash;has been to see the
+school&mdash;he teaches himself&mdash;thought you'd want to know him."</p>
+
+<p>"Glad you come. Here, sit down in the leather chair, and make yourself
+at home. Been long in these new parts?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my friend; I have been to Illinois, but I have never been here
+before. I am glad to see you."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 328px;">
+<img src="images/illus-053.jpg" width="328" height="500" alt="Story-telling at the Smithy." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Story-telling at the Smithy.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of the country?" said the blacksmith. "Think it is a
+good place to settle in? Hope that you have come to cast your lot with
+us. We need 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 and prairies. I hope that you will like it, and
+get your folks to come. We'll do all we can for you. We be men of good
+will, if we be hard-looking and poor."</p>
+
+<p>"My good friend, I believe you. You are great-hearted men, and I like
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Brainy, too. Let me start up the forge."</p>
+
+<p>"Preacher, come here," said Thomas Lincoln. "I haven't had no edication
+to speak of, but I've invented a new system of book-keepin' that beats
+the schools. There's one of them there. The blacksmith keeps all of his
+accounts by it. I've got one on a puncheon at home; did you notice it?
+This is how it is; you may want to use it yourself. Come and look at
+it."</p>
+
+<p>On a rough board over the forge Thomas Lincoln had drawn a number of
+straight lines with a coal, as are sometimes put on a blackboard by a
+singing-master. On the lower bars were several cloudy erasures, and at
+the end of these bars were initials.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't understand it, do you? Well, now, it is perfectly simple. I
+taught it to Aunt Olive, and she don't know more than some whole
+families, though she thinks that she knows more than the whole creation.
+Seen such people, 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&mdash;minister, may be; short, don't pay. Nothin' to pay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
+with but funeral sermons, and you can't collect them all the time. Well,
+all you have to do is just to draw your finger across one of them lines,
+and write his initials after it. And when he comes again, rub out
+another place on the same lines."</p>
+
+<p>"And when you have rubbed out all the places you could along that line,
+how much would you be worth?" said the blacksmith.</p>
+
+<p>"I call that a new way of keeping accounts," continued Thomas Lincoln,
+earnestly. "Did you ever see anything of the kind before? No. It's a new
+and original way. We do a great lot o' thinkin' down here in
+winter-time, when we haven't much else to do. I'm goin' to put one o'
+them new systems into the mill."</p>
+
+<p>The meetings of the pioneers at the blacksmith's shop formed a kind of
+merry-go-round club. One would tell a story in his own odd way, and
+another would say, "That reminds me," and tell a similar story that was
+intended to exceed the first in point of humor. One of Thomas Lincoln's
+favorite stories was "<span class="smcap">Gl-uk!</span>" or, as he sometimes termed it&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<h4>"<i>HOW ABRAHAM WENT TO MILL.</i></h4>
+
+<p>"It was a mighty curi's happenin'," he would say. "I don't know how to
+account for it&mdash;the human mind is a very strange thing. We 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 again; if it have the new
+life and sense, it wakes again somewhere. We're curi's critters, all on
+us, and don't know what we are.</p>
+
+<p>"When I first came to Indiana I made a mill of my own&mdash;Abe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> and I did.
+'Twas just a big stone attached to a heavy pole like a well-sweep, so as
+to pound heavy, up and down, up and down. You can see it now, though it
+is all out of gear and kilter.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, they built a mill 'way down on the river, and I used to send Abe
+there on horseback. Took him all day to go and come: used to start early
+in the mornin', and, as he had to wait his turn at the mill, he didn't
+use to get back until sundown. Then came Gordon and built his mill
+almost right here among us&mdash;a horse-mill with a windlass, all mighty
+handy: just hitch the horse to a windlass and pole, and he goes round
+and round, and never gets nowhere, but he grinds the corn and wheat.
+Something like me: I go round and round, and never seem to get anywhere,
+but something will come of it, you may depend.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, one day I says to Abraham:</p>
+
+<p>"You must hitch up the horse and go to Gordon's to mill. The meal-tub is
+low, and there's a storm a-brewin'.'</p>
+
+<p>"So Abe hitched up the horse and started. That horse is a mighty steady
+animal&mdash;goes around just like a machine; hasn't any capers nor
+antics&mdash;just as sober as a minister. I should have no more thought of
+his kickin' than I should have thought of the millstones a-hoppin' out
+of the hopper. 'Twas a mighty curi's affair.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Abe went to Gordon's, and his turn come to grind. He hitched the
+horse to the pole, and said, as always, 'Get up, you old jade!' I always
+say that, so Abe does. He didn't mean any disrespect to the horse, who
+always maintained a very respectable-like character up to that day.</p>
+
+<p>"The horse went round and round, round and round, just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> as steady as
+clock-work, until the grist was nearly out, and the 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 jade!' then puckered up his
+mouth, so, to say 'Gluck.' 'Tis a word I taught him to use. Every one
+has his own horse-talk.</p>
+
+<p>"He waved his stick, and said 'Gl&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>"Was the horse bewildered? He never did such a thing before. In an
+instant, like a thunder-clap when the sun was shinin', he h'isted up his
+heels and kicked Abraham in the head, and knocked him over on the
+ground, and then stopped as though to think on what he had done.</p>
+
+<p>"The mill-hands ran to Abraham. There the boy lay stretched out on the
+ground just as though he was dead. They thought he was dead. They got
+some water, and worked over him a spell. They could see that he
+breathed, but they thought that every breath would be his last.</p>
+
+<p>"'He's done for this world,' said Gordon. 'He'll never come to his
+senses again. Thomas Lincoln would be proper sorry.' And so I should
+have been had Abraham died. Sometimes I think like it was the Evil One
+that possessed that horse. It don't seem to me that he'd 'a' ever ha'
+kicked Abe of his own self&mdash;right in the head, too. You can see the scar
+on him now.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, almost an hour passed, when Abe came to himself&mdash;consciousness
+they call it&mdash;all at once, in an instant. And what do you think was the
+first thing he said? Just this&mdash;'uk!'</p>
+
+<p>"He finished the word just where he left it when the horse kicked him,
+and looked around wild-like, and there was the critter standin' still as
+the mill-stun.' Now, where do you think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> the soul of Abe was between
+'Gl&mdash;' and 'uk'? I'd like to have ye tell me that."</p>
+
+<p>A long discussion would follow such a question. Abraham Lincoln himself
+once discussed the same curious incident with his law-partner Herndon,
+and made it a subject of the continuance of mental consciousness after
+death.</p>
+
+<p>It was a warm afternoon. A dark cloud hung in the northern sky, and grew
+slowly over the arch of serene and sunny blue.</p>
+
+<p>"Goin' to have a storm," said the blacksmith. "Shouldn't wonder if it
+were a tempest. We generally get a tempest about this time of year, when
+winter finally breaks up into spring. Well, I declare! there comes
+Johnnie Kongapod, the Kickapoo Indian from Illinois&mdash;he and his dogs."</p>
+
+<p>A tall Indian was seen coming toward the smithy, followed by two dogs.
+The men watched him as he approached. He was a kind of chief, and had
+accepted the teachings 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 heart. He once composed an epitaph
+for himself, which was well meant but read oddly, and which Abraham
+Lincoln sometimes used to quote in his professional career:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Here lies poor Johnnie Kongapod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have mercy on him, gracious God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he would do if he was God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you were Johnnie Kongapod."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The Indian sat down on the log sill of the blacksmith's shop, and
+watched the gathering cloud as it slowly shut out the sky.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Storm," said he. "Lay down, Jack; lay down, Jim."</p>
+
+<p>Jack and Jim were his two dogs. They eyed the flaming forge. One of them
+seemed tired, and lay down beside his master, but the other made himself
+troublesome.</p>
+
+<p>"That reminds me," said Dennis Hanks; and he related a curious story of
+a troublesome dog, perhaps the one which in its evolutions became known
+as "<span class="smcap">Sykes's Dog</span>," though this may be a later New Salem story. It was an
+odd and a coarse bit of humor. Lincoln himself is represented as telling
+this, or a like story, to General Grant after the Vicksburg campaign,
+something as follows:</p>
+
+<p>"'Your enemies were constantly coming to me with their criticisms while
+the siege was in progress, and they did not cease their ill opinions
+after the city fell. 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 tried to show me the great mistake that
+you had made in paroling Pemberton's army, I thought I could get rid of
+them best by telling the story of Sykes's dog.</p>
+
+<p>"'Have you ever heard the story of Sykes's dog?' I said to the spokesman
+of the delegation.</p>
+
+<p>"'No.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, I must tell it to you. Sykes had a yellow dog that he set great
+store by; but there were a lot of <i>small boys</i> around the village, and
+the dog became very unpopular among them. His eye was so keen on his
+master's interests that there arose prejudice against him. The boys
+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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> fence and called the dog, one of them holding the fuse in his
+hand. The dog swallowed the meat, cartridge and all, and stood choking,
+when one of them touched off the fuse. There was a loud report. Sykes
+came out of the house, and found the ground was strewed with pieces of
+the dog. He picked up the biggest piece that he could find&mdash;a portion of
+the back with the tail still hanging to it&mdash;and said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, I guess that will never be of much account again&mdash;<i>as a
+dog</i>.'&mdash;'I guess that Pemberton's forces will never amount to much
+again&mdash;as an army.' By this time the delegation were looking for their
+hats."</p>
+
+<p>Like stories followed among the merry foresters. One of them told
+another "That reminds me"&mdash;how that two boys had been pursued by a small
+but vicious dog, and one of them had caught and held him by the tail
+while the other ran up a tree. At last the boy who was holding the dog
+became tired and knew not what to do, and cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"Jim!"</p>
+
+<p>"What say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come down."</p>
+
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+
+<p>"To help me let go of the dog."</p>
+
+<p>This story, also, whatever may have been the date of it, President
+Lincoln used to tell amid the perplexities of the war. In the darkest
+times of his life at the White House his mind used to return for
+illustration to the stories told at this backwoods smithy, and at the
+country stores that he afterward came to visit at Gentryville, Indiana,
+and New Salem, Illinois.</p>
+
+<p>He delighted in the blacksmith's own stories and jokes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> The man's name
+was John Baldwin. He was the Homer of Gentryville, as the village
+portion of this vast unsettled portion of country was called. Dennis
+Hanks, Abraham 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 President, his mind went back to the quaint smithy in the
+cool, free woods, and to the country stores, and he told these stories
+all over again. It seemed restful to his mind to wander back to old
+Indiana and Illinois.</p>
+
+<p>The cloud grew. The air darkened. There was an occasional rustle of wind
+in the tree-tops.</p>
+
+<p>"It's comin'," said the blacksmith. "Now, Johnnie Kongapod, you tell us
+the story. Tell us how Aunt Olive frightened ye when you went to pilot
+her off to the camp-meetin'."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Johnnie Kongapod. "It thunders. You must get Aunt Olive to
+tell you that story."</p>
+
+<p>"When you come to meet her," said the blacksmith to Jasper. "Kongapod
+would tell it to you, but he's afraid of the cloud. No wonder."</p>
+
+<p>A vivid flash of lightning forked the sky. There followed an appalling
+crash of thunder, a light wind, a few drops of rain, a darker air, and
+all was still. The men looked out as the cloud passed over.</p>
+
+<p>"You will have to stay here now," said the blacksmith, "until the cloud
+has passed. Our stories may seem rather rough to you, edicated as you
+are over the sea. Tell us a story&mdash;a German story. Let me put the old
+leather chair up here before the fire. If you will tell us one of those
+German<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> stories, may be I'll tell you how Johnnie Kongapod here and Aunt
+Olive went to the camp-meetin', and what happened to them on the way."</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence on the dark air. The blacksmith enlivened the
+fire, which lit up the shop. Jasper sat down in the leather chair, and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"Those Indian dogs remind me of scenes and stories unlike anything here.
+The life of the dog has its lesson true, and there is nothing truer in
+this world than the heart of a shepherd's dog. I am a shepherd's dog. I
+am speaking in parable; you will understand me better by and by.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me tell you the story of '<span class="smcap">The Shepherd Dog</span>,' and the story will
+also tell a story, as do all stories that have a soul; and it is only
+stories that have souls that live. The true story gathers a soul from
+the one who tells it, else it is no story at all.</p>
+
+<p>"There once lived on the borders of the Black Forest, Germany, an old
+couple who were very poor. Their name was Gragstein. The old man kept a
+shepherd dog that had been faithful to him for many years, and that
+loved him more than it did its own life, and he came to call him
+Faithful.</p>
+
+<p>"One day, as the old couple were seated by the fire, Frau Gragstein
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Hear the wind blow! There is a hard winter comin', and we have less in
+our crib than we ever had before. We must live snugger than ever. We
+shall hardly have enough to keep us two. It will be a long time before
+the birds sing again. You must be more savin', and begin now. Hear the
+wind howl. It is a warning.'</p>
+
+<p>"'What would you have me do?' asked Gragstein.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'There are three of us, and we have hardly store for two.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But what would you have me do with <i>him</i>? He is old, and I could not
+sell him, or give him away.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Then I would take him away into the forest and shoot him, and run and
+leave him. I know it is hard, but the pinch of poverty is hard, and it
+has come.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Shoot Faithful! Shoot old Faithful! Take him out into the forest and
+shoot him! Why, a man's last friends are his God, his mother, and his
+dog. Would you have me shoot old Faithful? How could I?'</p>
+
+<p>"At the words 'Shoot old Faithful,' the great dog had started up as
+though he understood. He bent his large eyes on the old woman and
+whined, then wheeled around once and sank down at his master's feet.</p>
+
+<p>"'He acts as though he understood what you were saying.'</p>
+
+<p>"'No, he don't,' said the old woman. 'You set too much store by the dog,
+and imagine such things. He's too old to ever be of service to us any
+more, and he eats 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 not see many more. We must live
+while we do live, and the dog must be put out of the way. You must take
+Faithful out into the forest in the morning and kill him.'</p>
+
+<p>"The dog started up again. 'Take Faithful and kill him!' He seemed to
+comprehend. He looked into his master's face and gave a piteous howl,
+and went to the door and pawed.</p>
+
+<p>"'Let him go out,' said the old woman. 'What possesses him to go out
+to-night into the storm? But let him go, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> then I can talk easier
+about the matter. Did you see his eyes&mdash;as if he knew? He haunts me! Let
+him go out.'</p>
+
+<p>"The old man opened the door, and the dog disappeared in the darkness,
+uttering another piteous howl.</p>
+
+<p>"Then the old couple sat down and talked over the matter, and Gragstein
+promised his wife that he would shoot the dog in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"'It is hard,' said the old woman, 'but Providence wills it, and we
+must.'</p>
+
+<p>"The wind lulled, and there was heard a wild, pitiful howl far away in
+the forest.</p>
+
+<p>"'What is that?' asked the old woman, starting.</p>
+
+<p>"'It was Faithful.'</p>
+
+<p>"'So far away!'</p>
+
+<p>"'The poor dog acted strange. There it is again, farther away.'</p>
+
+<p>"The morning came, but the dog did not return. He had never stayed away
+from the old hut before. The next day he did not come, nor the next. The
+old couple missed him, and the old man bitterly reproached his wife for
+what she had advised him to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Winter came, with pitiless storms and cold, and the old man would go
+forth to hunt alone, wishing Faithful was with him.</p>
+
+<p>"'It is not safe for me to go alone,' said he. 'I wish that the dog
+would come back.'</p>
+
+<p>"'He will never come back,' said the old woman. 'He is dead. I can hear
+him howl nights, far away on the hill. He haunts me. Every night, when I
+put out the light, I can hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> him howl out in the forest. 'Tis my
+tender heart that troubles me. 'Tis a troubled conscience that makes
+ghosts.'</p>
+
+<p>"The old man tottered away with his gun. It was a cold morning after a
+snow. The old woman watched him from the frosty window as he
+disappeared, and muttered:</p>
+
+<p>"'It is hard to be old and poor. God pity us all!'</p>
+
+<p>"Night came, but the old man did not return. The old woman was in great
+distress, and knew not what to do. She set the candle in the window, and
+went to the door and called a hundred times, and listened, but no answer
+came. The silent stars filled the sky, and the moon rose over the snow,
+but no answer came.</p>
+
+<p>"The next morning she alarmed the neighbors, and a company gathered to
+search for Gragstein. The men followed his tracks into the forests, over
+a cliff, and down to a stream of running water. They came to some thin
+ice, which had been weakened by the rush of the current, and there the
+tracks were lost.</p>
+
+<p>"'He attempted to cross,' said one, 'and fell in. We will find his body
+in the spring. I pity his poor old wife. What shall we tell her?&mdash;What
+was that?'</p>
+
+<p>"There was heard a pitiful howl on the other side of the stream.</p>
+
+<p>"'Look!' said another.</p>
+
+<p>"Just across the stream a great, lean shepherd dog came out of the snow
+tents of firs. His voice was weak, but he howled pitifully, as though
+calling the men.</p>
+
+<p>"'We must cross the stream!' said they all.</p>
+
+<p>"The men made a bridge by pushing logs and fallen trees<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> across the ice.
+The dog met them joyfully, and they followed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Under the tents of firs they found Gragstein, ready to perish with cold
+and hunger.</p>
+
+<p>"'Take me home!' said he. 'I can not last long. Take me home, and call
+home the dog!'</p>
+
+<p>"'What has happened?' asked the men.</p>
+
+<p>"'I fell in. I called for help, and&mdash;the dog came&mdash;Faithful. He rescued
+me, but I was numb. He lay down on me and warmed me, and kept me alive.
+Faithful! Call home the dog!'</p>
+
+<p>"The men took up the old man and rubbed him, and gave him food. Then
+they called the dog and gave him food, but he would not eat.</p>
+
+<p>"They returned as fast as they could to the cottage. Frau Gragstein came
+out to meet them. The dog saw her and stopped and howled, dived into the
+forest, and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"The old man died that night. They buried him in a few days. The old
+woman was left all alone. The night after the funeral, when she put out
+the light, she thought that she heard a feeble howl in the still 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 evenings of many years,
+lay the body of old Faithful, dead. He had never ceased to watch the
+house, and had died true. 'Tis the best thing that we can say of any
+living creature, man or dog, he was true-hearted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Remember the story. It will make you better. The storm is clearing."</p>
+
+<p>The cloud had passed over, leaving behind the blue sky of spring.</p>
+
+<p>"That was an awful good dog to have," said John Hanks. "There are human
+folks wouldn't 'a' done like that."</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't," said one of the men. "But here, I declare, comes the old
+woman. Been out neighborin', and got caught in the storm, and gone back
+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,
+elder&mdash;she'll tell it to you herself. She's a master-hand to go to
+meetin', and sing, and tell stories, she is.&mdash;Here, elder&mdash;this is Aunt
+Olive."</p>
+
+<p>The same woman that Jasper had met on his way to Pigeon Creek came into
+the blacksmith's shop, and held her hands over the warm fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Proper smart rain&mdash;spring tempest," said she. "Winter has broke, and we
+shall have steady weather.&mdash;Found your way, elder, didn't you? Well, I'm
+glad. It's a mighty poor sign for an elder to lose his way. You took my
+advice, didn't you?&mdash;turned to the right and kept straight ahead, and
+you got there. Well, that's what I tell 'em in conference-meetin's&mdash;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.&mdash;Abraham Lincoln, what
+are you lazing around here for?&mdash;And Johnnie Kongapod! This ain't any
+place for men in the spring of the year! I've been neighborin'. I have
+to do it just to see if folks are doin' as they oughter. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> are a
+great many people who don't do as they oughter in this world. Now I am
+goin' straight home between the drops."</p>
+
+<p>The woman hurried away and disappeared under the trees.</p>
+
+<p>The cloud broke in two dark, billowy masses, and red sunset, like a sea,
+spread over the prairie, the light heightening amid glimmerings of
+pearly rain.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper went back to Pigeon Creek with Abraham.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't that woman a little queer?" he asked&mdash;"a little touched in mind,
+may be?"</p>
+
+<p>"She does not like me," said the boy; "though most people like me. I
+seem to have a bent for study, and father thinks that the time I spend
+in study is wasted, and Aunt Olive calls me lazy, and so do the
+Crawfords&mdash;I don't mean the master. Most people like me, but there are
+some here that don'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 things as that it makes me feel down in the
+mouth. Do you ever feel down in the mouth? I do. I wonder what will
+become of me? Whatever happens, or folks may say, elder, I mean to make
+the best of life, and be true to the best that is in me. Something will
+come of it. Don't you think so, elder?"</p>
+
+<p>They came to Thomas Lincoln's cabin, and the serene face of Mrs. Lincoln
+met them at the door. A beautiful evening followed the tempest gust, and
+the Lincolns and the old Tunker sat down to a humble meal.</p>
+
+<p>The mild spring evening that followed drew together<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> another group of
+people to the lowly home of Thomas Lincoln. Among them came Aunt Olive,
+whose missionary work among her neighbors was as untiring as her tongue.
+And last among the callers there came stealing into the light of the
+pine fire, like a shadow, the tall, brown form of Johnnie Kongapod, or
+Konapod.</p>
+
+<p>The pioneer story-telling here began again, and ended in an episode that
+left a strange, mysterious impression, like a prophecy, on nearly every
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me tell you the story of my courtship," said Thomas Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"Thomas!" said a mild, firm voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't speak in that tone to me," said the backwoodsman to his wife,
+who had sought to check him.&mdash;"Sally don't like to hear 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 don't believe that there is an
+honester creatur' in all these parts, unless it was that Injun that
+Johnnie Kongapod tells about."</p>
+
+<p>A loud laugh arose, and the dusky figure of Johnnie Kongapod retreated
+silently back into a deep shadow near the open door. His feelings had
+been wounded. Young Abraham Lincoln saw the Indian's movement, and he
+went out and stood in the shadow in silent sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, good folks, Sally and I used to know each other before I removed
+from Kentuck' to Indiany. After my first wife died of the milk-fever I
+was lonesome-like with two young children, and about as poor as I was
+lonesome, although I did have a little beforehand. Well, Sally was a
+widder, and used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> to imagine that she must be lonesome, too; and I
+thought at last, after that there view of the case had haunted me, that
+I would just go up to Kentucky and see. Souls kind o' draw each other a
+long way apart; it goes in the air. So I hitched up and went, and I
+found Sally at home, and all alone.</p>
+
+<p>"'Sally,' said I, 'do you remember me?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes,' said she, 'I remember you well. You are Tommy Linken. What has
+brought you back to Kentuck'?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, Sally,' said I, 'my wife is dead.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Is that so,' said she, all attention.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes; wife died more than a year ago, and a good wife she was; and I've
+just come back to look for another.'</p>
+
+<p>"She sat like a statue, Sally did, and never spoke a word. So I said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Do you like me, Sally Johnson?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, Tommy Linken.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You do?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, Tommy Linken, I like you well enough to marry you, but I could
+never think of such a thing&mdash;at least not now.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Why?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Because I'm in debt, and I would never ask a man who had offered to
+marry me to pay my debts.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Let me hear all about it,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"She brought me her account-book from the cupboard. Well, good folks,
+how much do you suppose Sally owed? Twelve dollars! It was a heap of
+money for a woman to owe in those days.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I put that account-book straight into my pocket and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> <i>run</i>. When
+I came back, all of her debts were paid. I told her so.</p>
+
+<p>"'Will you marry me now?' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes,' said she.</p>
+
+<p>"And, good folks all, the next morning at nine o'clock we were married,
+and we packed up all her things and started on our weddin' tour to
+Indiany, and here we be now. Now that is what I call an honest
+woman.&mdash;Johnnie Kongapod, can you beat that? Come, now, Johnnie
+Kongapod."</p>
+
+<p>The Indian still stood in the shadow, with young Abraham beside him. He
+did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie is great on telling stories of good Injuns," said Mr. Lincoln,
+"and we think that kind o' Injuns have about all gone up to the moonlit
+huntin'-grounds."</p>
+
+<p>The tall form of the Indian moved into the light of the doorway. His
+eyes gleamed.</p>
+
+<p>"Thomas Linken, that story that I told you was true."</p>
+
+<p>"What! that an Injun up to Prairie du Chien was condemned to die, and
+that he asked to go home and see his family all alone, and promised to
+return on his honor?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Thomas Linken."</p>
+
+<p>"And that they let him go home all alone, and that he spent his night
+with his family in weepin' and wailin', and returned the next mornin' to
+be shot?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Thomas Linken."</p>
+
+<p>"And that they shot him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Thomas Linken."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Johnnie, if I could believe that, I could believe anything."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"An Injun has honor as well as a white man, Thomas Linken."</p>
+
+<p>"Who taught it to him?"</p>
+
+<p>"His own heart&mdash;<i>here</i>. The Great Spirit's voice is in every man's
+heart; his will is born in all men; his love and care are over us all.
+You may 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 the heavens. That story was true, and I know it to be true, and the
+Great Spirit knows it to be true. Johnnie Kongapod is an honest Injun."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we have two honest folks here," said Aunt Olive. "Three,
+mebby&mdash;only Tom Linken owes me a dollar and a half. So, Jasper, you see
+that you have come to good parts. You'll see some strange things in your
+travels, way off to Rock River. Likely you'll see the Pictured Rocks on
+the Mississippi&mdash;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 of the family of that Indian that
+went home on his honor all alone to see his family, and came back to be
+shot or hung, you just let us know. I'd like to adopt one of his boys.
+That would be something to begin a Sunday-school with!"</p>
+
+<p>The company burst into another loud laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Johnnie Kongapod raised his long arm and stood silent. Aunt Olive
+stepped before him and looked him in the face. The Indian's red face
+glowed, and he said vehemently: "Woman, that story is true!"</p>
+
+<p>Sally Lincoln arose and rested her hand on the Indian's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> shoulder.
+"Johnny Kongapod, I can believe you&mdash;Abraham can."</p>
+
+<p>There was a deep silence in the cabin, broken only by Aunt Olive, who
+arose indignantly and hurried away, and flung back on the mild air the
+sharp words "<i>I</i> don't!"</p>
+
+<p>The story of the Indian who held honor to be more than life, as related
+by Johnnie Kongapod, had often been told by the Indians at their
+camp-fires, and by traveling preachers and missionaries who had faith in
+Indian character. Among those settlers who held all Indians to be bad it
+was treated as a joke. Old Jasper asked Johnnie Kongapod many questions
+about it, and at last laid his hand on the dusky poet's shoulder, and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"My brother, I hope that it is true. I believe it, and I honor you for
+believing it. It is a good heart that believes what is best in life."</p>
+
+<p>How strange all this new life seemed to Jasper! How unlike the old
+castles and cottages of Germany, and the cities of the Rhine! And yet,
+for the tall boy by that cabin fire new America had an opportunity that
+Germany could offer to no peasant's son. Jasper little thought that that
+boy, so lively, so rude, so anxious to succeed, was an uncrowned king;
+yet so it was.</p>
+
+<p>And the legend? A true story has a soul, and a peculiar atmosphere and
+influence. Jasper saw what the Indian's story was, though he had heard
+it only indirectly and in outline. It haunted him. He carried it with
+him into his dreams.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 493px;">
+<img src="images/illus-075.jpg" width="493" height="318" alt="The Home of Abraham Lincoln when in his Tenth Year." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Home of Abraham Lincoln when in his Tenth Year.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>A BOY WITH A HEART.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Spring came early to the forests and prairies of southern Indiana. In
+March the maples began to burn, and the tops of the timber to change,
+and to take on new hues in the high sun and lengthening days. The birds
+were on the wing, and the banks of the streams were beginning to look
+like gardens, as indeed Nature's gardens they were.</p>
+
+<p>The woodland ponds were full of turtles or terrapins, and these began to
+travel about in the warm spring air.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great fireplace in Crawford's school, and, as fuel cost
+nothing, it was, as we have said, well fed with logs, and was kept
+almost continually glowing.</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the cruel sports of the boys, at the noonings and recesses
+of the school, to put coals of fire on the backs of wandering terrapins,
+and to joke at the struggles of the poor creatures to get to their homes
+in the ponds.</p>
+
+<p>Abraham Lincoln from a boy had a tender heart, a horror of cruelty and
+of everything that would cause any creature pain. He was merciful to
+every one but the unmerciful, and charitable to every one but the
+uncharitable, and kind to everyone but the unkind. But his nature made
+war at once on any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> one who sought to injure another, and he was
+especially severe on any one who was so mean and cowardly as to
+disregard the natural rights of a dumb animal or reptile. He had in this
+respect the sensitiveness of a Burns. All great natures, as biography
+everywhere attests, have fine instincts&mdash;this chivalrous sympathy for
+the brute creation.</p>
+
+<p>Lincoln's nature was that of a champion for the right. He was a born
+knight, and, strangely enough, his first battles in life were in defense
+of the turtles or terrapins. He was a boy of powerful strength, and he
+used it roughly to maintain his cause. He is said to have once exclaimed
+that the turtles were his brothers.</p>
+
+<p>The early days of spring in the old forests are full of life. The Sun
+seems to be calling forth his children. The ponds become margined with
+green, and new creatures everywhere stir the earth and the waters. Life
+and matter become, as it were, a new creation, and one can believe
+anything when he sees how many forms life and matter can assume under
+the mellowing rays of the sun. The clod becomes a flower; the egg a
+reptile, fish, or bird. The cunning woodchuck, that looks out of his
+hole on the awakening earth and blue sky, seems almost to have a sense
+of the miracle that has been wrought. The boy who throws a stone at him,
+to drive him back into the earth, seems less sensible of nature than he.
+It is a pleasing sight to see the little creature, as he stands on his
+haunches, wondering, and the brain of a young Webster would naturally
+seek to let such a groundling have all his right of birth.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when the blue spring skies were beginning to glow, Abraham went
+out to play with his companions. It was one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> of his favorite amusements
+to declaim from a stump. He would sometimes in this way recite long
+selections from the school Reader and Speaker.</p>
+
+<p>He had written a composition at school on the defense of the rights of
+dumb animals, and there was one piece in the school Reader in which he
+must have found a sympathetic chord, and which was probably one of those
+that he loved to recite. It was written by the sad poet Cowper, and
+began thus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I would not enter on my list of friends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet wanting sensibility) the man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An inadvertent step may crush the snail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That crawls at evening in the public path;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he that has humanity, forewarned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will tread aside, and let the reptile live."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As Abraham and his companions were playing in the warm sun, one said:</p>
+
+<p>"Make a speech for us, Abe. Hip, hurrah! You've only to nibble a pen to
+make poetry, and only to mount a stump to be a speaker. Now, Abe, speak
+for the cause of the people, or anybody's cause. Give it to us strong,
+and we will do the cheering."</p>
+
+<p>Abraham mounted a stump in the school-grounds, on which he had often
+declaimed before. He felt something stirring within him, half-fledged
+wings of his soul, that waited a cause. He would imitate the few
+preachers and speakers that he had heard&mdash;even an old Kentucky preacher
+named Elkins, whom his own mother had loved, and whose teachings the
+good woman had followed in her short and melancholy life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He began his speech, throwing up his long arms, and lifting at proper
+periods his coon-skin cap. The scholars cheered as he waxed earnest. In
+the midst of the speech a turtle came creeping into the grounds.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" said one of the boys, "here's another turtle come to school!
+He, too, has seen the need of learning."</p>
+
+<p>The terrapin crawled along awkwardly toward the house, his head
+protruding from his shell, and his tail moving to and fro.</p>
+
+<p>At this point young Abraham grew loud and dramatic. The boys raised a
+shout, and the girls waved their hoods.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of the enthusiasm, one of the boys seized the turtle by the
+tail and slung it around his head, as an evidence of his delight at the
+ardor of the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"Throw it at him," said one of the scholars. "Johnson once threw a
+turtle at him, when he was preachin' to his sister, and it set him to
+runnin' on like a minister."</p>
+
+<p>Abraham was accustomed to preach to the young members of his family. He
+would do the preaching, and his sister the weeping; and he sometimes
+became so much affected by his own discourses that he would weep with
+her, and they would have a very "moving service," as such a scene was
+called.</p>
+
+<p>The boy swung the turtle over his head again, and at last let go of it
+in the air, so as to project it toward Abraham.</p>
+
+<p>The poor reptile fell crushed at the foot of the stump and writhed in
+pain.</p>
+
+<p>Abraham ceased to speak. He looked down on the pitiful sight of
+suffering, and his heart yearned over the helpless creature, and then
+his brain became fired, and his eyes flashed with rage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who did that?" he exclaimed. "Brute! coward! wretch!" He looked down
+again, and saw the reptile trying to move away with its broken shell.
+His anger turned to pity. He began to expostulate against all such
+heartlessness to the animal world as the scene exhibited before him. The
+poor turtle again tried to move away, his head just protruding, looking
+for some way out of the world that would deny him his right to the
+sunshine and the streams. The young orator saw it all; his lip curled
+bitterly, and his words burned. He awakened such a sympathy for the
+reptile, and such a feeling of resentment against the hand which had
+ruined this little life, that the offender shrank away from the scene,
+calling out defiantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Come away, and let him talk. He's only chicken-hearted."</p>
+
+<p>The scholars knew that there was no cowardice in the heart of Lincoln.
+They felt the force of the scene. The boys and girls of Andrew
+Crawford's school never forgot the pleas that Abraham used to make for
+the animals and reptiles of the woods and streams.</p>
+
+<p>Nearly every youth exhibits his leading trait or characteristic in his
+school-days.</p>
+
+<p>"The tenor of our whole lives," said an English poet, "is what we make
+it in the first five years after we become our masters"; and a wiser
+than he has said, "The thing that has been is, and God requireth the
+past." Columbus on the quays of Genoa; Zinzendorf forming among his
+little companions the order of the "Grain of Mustard-Seed"; the poets
+who "lisped in numbers"; the boy statesmanship of Cromwell; and the
+early aspiration of nearly every great leader of mankind&mdash;all showed the
+current of the life-stream, and it is the current alone that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> knows and
+prophesies the future. When Abraham Lincoln fell, the world uncovered
+its head. Thrones were sorrowful, and humanity wept. Yet his earliest
+rostrum was a stump, and his cause the natural rights of the voiceless
+inhabitants of the woods and streams. The heart that throbbed for
+humanity, and that won the heart of the world, found its first utterance
+in defense of the principles of the birds'-nest commandment. It was a
+beginning of self-education worthy of the thought of a Pestalozzi. It
+was a prophecy.</p>
+
+<p>As the young advocate of the rights and feelings of the dumb creation
+was ending his fiery discourse, the buttonless Tunker, himself a
+disciple of Pestalozzi, came into the school-grounds and read the
+meaning of the scene. Jasper saw the soul of things, and turned always
+from the outward expressions of life to the inward motive. He read the
+true character of the boy in buckskin breeches, human heart, and fluent
+tongue. He sat down on the log step of the school-house in silence, and
+Mr. Crawford presently came out with a quill pen behind his ear, and sat
+down beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"That boy has been teaching what you and I ought first to teach," said
+Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"What is that?" asked Mr. Crawford.</p>
+
+<p>"The heart! What is head-learning worth, if the heart is left
+uneducated? As Pestalozzi used to say, The soul is the true end of all
+education. Religion itself is a failure, without right character."</p>
+
+<p>"But you wouldn't teach morals as a science, would you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would train the heart to feel, and the soul to love to be just and do
+right, and make obedience to the moral sense the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> habit of life. This
+can best be done at the school age, and I tell you that this is the
+highest education. A boy who can spell all the words in the
+spelling-book, and bound all the countries in the world, and repeat all
+the dates of history, and yet who could have the heart to crush a
+turtle, has not been properly educated."</p>
+
+<p>"Then your view is that the end of education is to make a young person
+do right?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my good friend, pardon me if I speak plain. The end of education is
+not to <i>make</i> young people do right, but to train the young heart to
+love to do right; to make right doing the nature and habit of life."</p>
+
+<p>"How would you begin?"</p>
+
+<p>"As that boy has begun. He has made every heart on the ground feel for
+that broken-shelled turtle. That boy will one day become a leader among
+men. He has a heart. The head may make friends, but only the heart can
+hold them. It is the heart-power that serves and rules. The best thing
+that can be said of any one is, 'He is true-hearted.' I like that boy.
+He is true-hearted. His first client a turtle, it may not be his last.
+Train him well. He will honor you some day."</p>
+
+<p>The boys took the turtle to the pond and left him on the bank. Jasper
+watched them. He then turned to the backwoods teacher, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"That, sir, is the result of right education. First teach character;
+second, life; third, books. Let education begin in the heart, and
+everybody made to feel that right makes might."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.&mdash;HER QUEER STORIES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Aunt Olive Eastman had made herself a relative to every one living
+between the two Pigeon Creeks. She had formed this large acquaintance
+with the pioneers by attending the camp-meetings of the Methodists and
+the four-days' meetings of the Baptists in southern Indiana, and the
+school-house meetings everywhere. She was a widow, was full of rude
+energy and benevolence, had a sharp tongue, a kindly heart, and a
+measure of good sense. But she was "far from perfect," as she used to
+very humbly acknowledge in the many pioneer meetings that she attended.</p>
+
+<p>"I make mistakes sometimes," she used to say, "and it is because I am a
+fallible creatur'."</p>
+
+<p>She was an always busy woman, and the text of her life was "Work," and
+her practice was in harmony with her teaching.</p>
+
+<p>"Work, work, my friends and brethren," she once said in the log
+school-house meeting. "Work while the day is passin'. We's all children
+of the clay. To-day we're here smart as pepper-grass, and to-morrer
+we're gone like the cucumbers of the ground. Up, and be doin'&mdash;up, and
+be doin'!"</p>
+
+<p>One morning Jasper the Tunker appeared in the clearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> before her
+cabin. She stood in the door as he appeared, shading her eyes with one
+hand and holding a birch broom in the other. The sunset was flooding the
+swollen creek in the distance, and shimmering in the tops of the ancient
+trees. Jasper turned to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a lovely morning," said he. "The heavens are blue above us. I
+hope that you are well."</p>
+
+<p>"The top of the morning to you! You are a stranger that I met the other
+day, I suppose. I've been hopin' you'd come along and see me. Where do
+you hail from, anyway? Come in and tell me all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I am a German," said Jasper, entering. "I came from Germany to
+Pennsylvania, and went from there to Ohio, and now I am here, as you
+see."</p>
+
+<p>"How far are you goin'? Or are you just goin' to stop with us here?
+Southern Injiany is a goodly country. 'Tis all land around here, for
+<i>millions</i> of miles, and free as the air. Perhaps you'll stop with us."</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to Rock Island, on the Mississippi River, across the prairie
+of the Illinois."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you now, may it please you? What's your callin'? Tell me all
+about it, now. I want to know."</p>
+
+<p>"I am one of the Brethren, as I said. I preach and teach and cobble. I
+came here now to ask you if you had any shoe-making for me to do."</p>
+
+<p>"One of the Tunkers&mdash;a Tunker, one o' them. Don't belong to no sect, nor
+nothin', but just preaches to everybody as though everybody was alike,
+and wanders about everywhere, as if you owned the whole world, like the
+air. I've seen several<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Tunkers in my day. They are becomin' thick in
+these woods. Well, I believe such as you mean well&mdash;let's be charitable;
+we haven't long to live in this troublesome world. I'm fryin' doughnuts;
+am just waitin' for the fat to heat. Hope you didn't think that I was
+wastin' time, standin' there at the door? I'll give you some doughnuts
+as soon as the fat is hot&mdash;fresh ones and good ones, too. I make good
+doughnuts, just such as Martha used to make in Jerusalem. I've fried
+doughnuts for a hundred ministers in my day, and they all say that my
+doughnuts are good, whatever they may think of me. Come in. I'm proper
+glad to see ye."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper sat down in the kitchen of the cabin. The room was large, and had
+a delightful atmosphere of order and neatness. Over the fire swung an
+immense iron crane, and on the crane were pot-hooks of various sizes,
+and on one of these hung a kettle of bubbling fat.</p>
+
+<p>The table was spread with a large dish of dough, a board called a
+kneading-board, a rolling-pin, and a large sheet of dough which had been
+rolled into its present form by the rolling-pin, which utensil was white
+with flour.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you were comin'," said Aunt Olive. "I dropped my rollin'-pin
+this mornin'; it's a sure sign. You said that you are goin' to Rock
+Island. The Injuns live there, don't they? What are ye goin' there for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Black Hawk has invited me. He has promised to let me have an Indian
+guide, or runner, who can speak English and interpret. I'm going to
+teach among the tribes, the Lord willing, and I want a guide and an
+interpreter."</p>
+
+<p>"Black Hawk? He was born down in Kaskaskia, the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> Jesuit town, 'way
+back almost a century ago, wasn't he? Or was it in the Sac village? He
+was a Pottawattomie, I'm told, and then I've heard he wasn't. Now he's
+chief of the Sacs and Foxes. I saw him once at a camp-meetin'. His face
+is black as that pot and these hooks and trummels. How he did skeer me!
+Do you dare to trust him? Like enough he'll kill ye, some day. I don't
+trust no Injuns. Where did you stay last night?"</p>
+
+<p>"At Mr. Lincoln's."</p>
+
+<p>"Tom Linken's. Pretty poor accommodations you must have had. They're
+awful poor folks. Mrs. Linken is a nice woman, but Tom he is shiftless,
+and he's bringin' up that great tall boy Abe to be lazy, too. That boy
+is good to his mother, but he all runs to books and larnin', just as
+some turnips all run to tops. You've seen 'em so, haven't ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"But the boy has got character, and character is everything in this
+world."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you notice anything <i>peculiarsome</i> about him? His cousin, Dennis
+Hanks, says there's something peculiarsome about him. I never did."</p>
+
+<p>"My good woman, do you believe in gifts?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I believe in works. I believe in people whose two fists are full of
+works. Mine are, like the Marthas of old."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Olive rolled up her sleeves, and began to cut the thin layer of
+dough with a knife into long strips, which she twisted.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm goin' to make some twisted doughnuts," she said, "seein' you're a
+preacher and a teacher."</p>
+
+<p>"I think that young lad Lincoln has some inborn gift, and that he will
+become a leader among men. It is he who is willing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> to serve that rules,
+and they who deny themselves the most receive the most from Heaven and
+men. He has sympathetic wisdom. I can see it. There is something
+peculiar about him. He is true."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't you talk that way. He's lazy, and he hain't got any
+calculation, 'n' he'll never amount to shucks, nor nothin'. He's like
+his father, his head in the air. Somethin' don't come of nothin' in this
+world; corn don't grow unless you plant it; and when you add nothin' to
+nothin' it just makes nothin'.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, preacher, you've told me who you are, and now I'll tell ye who I
+am. But first, let me say, I'll have a pair of shoes. I have my own
+last. I'll get it for you, and then you can be peggin' away, so as not
+to lose any time. It is wicked to waste time. 'Work' is my motto. That's
+what time is made for."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Olive got her last. The fat was hot by this time&mdash;"all sizzlin',"
+as she said.</p>
+
+<p>"There, preacher, this is the last, and there is the board on which my
+husband used to sew shoes, wax and all. Now I will go to fryin' my
+doughnuts, and you and I can be workin' away at the same time, and I'll
+tell ye who I am. Work away&mdash;work away!</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a widder. You married? A widower? Well, that ain't nothin' to me.
+Work away&mdash;work away!</p>
+
+<p>"I came from old Hingham, near Boston. You've heard of Boston? That was
+before I was married. Our family came to Ohio first, then we heard that
+there was better land in Injiany, and we moved on down the Ohio River
+and came here. There was only one other family in these parts at that
+time. That was folks by the name of Eastman. They had a likely smart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+boy by the name of Polk&mdash;Polk Eastman. He grew up and became lonesome. I
+grew up and became lonesome, and so we concluded that we'd make a home
+together&mdash;here it is&mdash;and try to cheer each other. Listenin', be ye?
+Yes? Well, my doughnuts are fryin' splendid. Work away&mdash;work away!</p>
+
+<p>"A curious time we had of it when we went to get married. There was a
+minister named Penney, who preached in a log church up in Kentuck, and
+we started one spring mornin', something like this, to get him to marry
+us. We had but one horse for the journey. I rode on a kind of a second
+saddle behind Polk, and we started off as happy as prairie plovers. A
+blue sky was over the timber, and the bushes were all alive with birds,
+and there were little flowers runnin' everywhere among the new grass and
+the moss. It seemed as though all the world was for us, and that the
+Lord was good. I've seen lots of trouble since then. My heart has grown
+heavy with sorrow. It was then as light as air. Work away!</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the minister Penney lived across the Kentuck, and when we came to
+the river opposite his place the water was so deep that we couldn't ford
+it. There had been spring freshets. It was an evenin' in April. There
+was a large moon, and the weather was mild and beautiful. We could see
+the pine-knots burnin' in Parson Penney's cabin, so that we knew that he
+was there, but didn't see him.</p>
+
+<p>"'What are we to do now?' Polk said he. 'We'll have to go home again,'
+banterin'-like."</p>
+
+<p>"'Holler,' said I. 'Blow the horn!' We had taken a horn along with us.
+He gave a piercin' blast, and I shouted out, 'Elder Penney! Elder
+Penney!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The door of the cabin over the river opened, and the elder came out and
+stood there, mysterious-like, in the light of the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"'Who be ye?' he called. 'Hallo! What is wanted?'</p>
+
+<p>"'We're comin' to be married!' shouted Polk. 'Comin' to be
+married&mdash;<i>married</i>! How shall we get across the river?'</p>
+
+<p>"'The ford's too deep. Can't be done. Who be ye?' shouted the elder.</p>
+
+<p>"'I'm Polk Eastman&mdash;Polk Eastman!' shouted Polk.</p>
+
+<p>"'I'm Olive Pratt&mdash;Olive Pratt&mdash;Olive!' shouted I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, you just stay where you be, and I'll marry you there.'</p>
+
+<p>"So he began shouting at the top of his voice:</p>
+
+<p>"'Do you, Olive Pratt, take that there man, over there on the horse, to
+be your husband? Hey?'</p>
+
+<p>"I shouted back, 'Yes, sir!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Do you, Polk Eastman, take that there woman, over there on the horse,
+to be your wife?'</p>
+
+<p>"Polk shouted back, 'Yes, elder, that is what I came for!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Then,' shouted the minister, 'join your right hands.'</p>
+
+<p>"Polk put up his hand over his shoulder, and I took it; and the horse,
+seein' his advantage, went to nibblin' young sprouts. The elder then
+shouted:</p>
+
+<p>"'I pronounce you husband and wife. You can go home now, and I'll make a
+record of it, and my wife shall witness it. Good luck to you! Let us
+pray.'</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 328px;">
+<img src="images/illus-090.jpg" width="328" height="500" alt="Aunt Olive&#39;s Wedding." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Aunt Olive&#39;s Wedding.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Polk hitched up the reins and the horse stood still. How solemn it
+seemed! The woods were still and shady. You could hear the water rushing
+in the timber. The full moon hung in the clear sky over the river, and
+seemed to lay on the water like a sparkling boat. I was happy then. On
+our journey home we were chased by a bear. I don't think that the bear
+would have hurt us, but the scent of him frightened the horse and made
+him run like a deer.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we portaged a stream at midnight, just as the moon was going
+down. We made our curtilage here, and here we lived happy until husband
+died of a fever. I'm a middlin' good woman. I go to all the meetin's
+round, and wake 'em up. I've got a powerful tongue, and there isn't a
+lazy bone in my whole body. Work away&mdash;work away! That's the way to get
+along in the world. Peg away!"</p>
+
+<p>While Aunt Olive had been relating this odd story, John Hanks, a cousin
+of the Lincolns, had come quietly to the door, and entered and sat down
+beside the Tunker. He had come to Indiana from Kentucky when Abraham was
+fourteen years of age, and he made his home with the Lincolns for four
+years, when he went to Illinois, and was enthused by the wonders of
+prairie farming. It was Uncle John who gave to Abraham Lincoln the name
+of rail-splitter. He loved the boy Lincoln, and led his heart away to
+the rich prairies of Illinois a few years after the present scenes.</p>
+
+<p>"He and I," he once said of Abraham, "worked barefooted, grubbed,
+plowed, mowed, and cradled together. When we returned from the field, he
+would snatch a piece of corn-bread, sit down on a chair, with his feet
+elevated, and read. He read constantly."</p>
+
+<p>This man had heard Aunt Olive&mdash;Indiana, or "Injiany," he called
+her&mdash;relate her marriage experiences many times. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> was not interested
+in the old story, but he took a keen delight in observing the curiosity
+and surprise that such a novel tale awakened in the mind of the Tunker.</p>
+
+<p>"This is very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very extraordinary. We
+do not have in Germany any stories like that. I hardly know what my
+people would say to such a story as that. This is a very extraordinary
+country&mdash;very extraordinary."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you a wedding story worth two o' that," said Uncle John
+Hanks. "Why, that ain't nowhere to it.&mdash;Now, Aunt Injiany, you wait, and
+set still. I'm goin' to tell the elder about the '<span class="smcap">Two Turkey-Calls</span>.'"</p>
+
+<p>The Tunker only said, "This is all very extraordinary." Uncle John
+crossed his legs and bent forward his long whiskers, stretched out one
+arm, and was about to begin, when Aunt Olive said:</p>
+
+<p>"You wait, John Hanks&mdash;you wait. I'm goin' to tell the elder that there
+story myself."</p>
+
+<p>John Hanks never disputed with Aunt Olive.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, tell it," said he, and the backwoods woman began:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a master-place to get married out here. There's a great many more
+men than women in the timber, and the men get lonesome-like, and no man
+is a whole man without a wife. Men ought not to live alone anywhere.
+They can not out here. Well, well, the timber is full of wild turkeys,
+especially in the fall of the year, but they are hard to shoot. The best
+way to get a shot at a turkey is by a turkey-call. You never heard one,
+did you? You are not to blame for bein' ignorant. It is like this&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana put her hands to her mouth like a shell, and blew a low,
+mysterious whistle.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there came a young settler from Kentucky and took up a claim on
+Pigeon Creek; and there came a widow from Ohio and took a claim about
+three miles this side of him, and neither had seen the other. Well,
+well, one shiny autumn mornin' each of them took in to their heads to go
+out turkey-huntin', and curiously enough each started along the creek
+toward each other. The girl's name was Nancy, and the man's name was
+Albert. Nancy started down the creek, and Albert up the creek, and each
+had a right good rifle.</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy stood still as soon as she found a hollow place in the timber,
+put up her hand&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;and made a turkey-call&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;and listened.</p>
+
+<p>"Albert heard the call in the hollow timber, though he was almost a mile
+away, and he put up his hands&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;and answered&mdash;<i>so</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"'A turkey,' said Nancy, said she. 'I wish I had a turkey to cook.'</p>
+
+<p>"'A turkey,' said Albert, said he. 'I wish I had some one at home to
+cook a turkey.'</p>
+
+<p>"Then each stole along slowly toward the other, through the hollow
+timber.</p>
+
+<p>"It was just a lovely mornin'. Jays were callin', and nuts were fallin',
+and the trees were all yellow and red, and the air put life into you,
+and made you feel as though you would live forever.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they both of them stopped again, Nancy and Albert. Nancy she
+called&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;and Albert&mdash;<i>so</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'A turkey, sure,' said Nancy.</p>
+
+<p>"'A turkey, sure,' said Albert.</p>
+
+<p>"Then each went forward a little, and stopped and called again.</p>
+
+<p>"They were so near each other now that each began to hide behind the
+thicket, so that neither might scare the turkey.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, each was scootin' along with head bowed&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;gun in
+hand&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;one wishin' for a husband and one for a wife, and each for a
+good fat turkey, when what should each hear but a voice in a tree! It
+was a very solemn voice, and it said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Quit!'</p>
+
+<p>"Each thought there was a scared turkey somewhere, and each became more
+stealthy and cautious, and there was a long silence.</p>
+
+<p>"At last Nancy she called again&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;and Albert he answered
+her&mdash;<i>so</i>&mdash;and each thought there was a turkey within shootin' distance,
+and each crept along a little nearer each other.</p>
+
+<p>"At last Nancy saw the bushes stir a few rods in front of her, and
+raised her gun into position, still hiding in the tangle. Albert
+discovered a movement in front of him, and he took the same position.</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy was sure she could see something dark before her, and that it
+must be the turkey in the tangle. She put her finger on the lock of the
+gun, when a voice in the air said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Quit!'</p>
+
+<p>"'It's a turkey in the tops of the timber,' thought she, 'and he is
+watchin' me, and warnin' the other turkey.'</p>
+
+<p>"Albert, too, was preparin' to shoot in the tangle when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> command
+from the tree-top came. Each thought it would be well to reconnoiter a
+little, so as to get a better shot.</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy kneeled down on the moss among the red-berry bushes, and peeked
+cautiously through an openin' in the tangle. What was that?</p>
+
+<p>"A hat? Yes, it was a hat!</p>
+
+<p>"Albert he peeked through another openin', and his heart sunk like a
+stone within him. What was that? A bonnet? Yes, it was a bonnet!</p>
+
+<p>"Was ever such a thing as that seen before in the timber? Bears had been
+seen, and catamounts, and prairie wolves, but a bonnet! He drew back his
+gun. Just then there came another command from the tree-top:</p>
+
+<p>"'Quit!'</p>
+
+<p>"Now, would you believe it? Well, two guns were discharged at that
+turkey in the tree, and it came tumblin' down, a twenty-pounder, dead as
+a stone.</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy run toward it. Albert run towards it.</p>
+
+<p>"'It's yourn,' said Nancy.</p>
+
+<p>"'It's yourn,' said Albert.</p>
+
+<p>"Each looked at the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Nancy looked real pink and pretty, and Albert he looked real noble and
+handsome-like.</p>
+
+<p>"'I'm thinkin',' said Albert, 'it kind o' belongs to both of us.'</p>
+
+<p>"'So I think, too,' said Nancy, said she. 'Come over to my cabin and
+I'll cook it for ye. I'm an honest girl, I am.'</p>
+
+<p>"The two went along as chipper as two squirrels. The creek looked really
+pretty to 'em, and the prairie was all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> a-glitter with frost, and the
+sky was all pleasant-like, and you know the rest. There, now. They're
+livin' there yet. Just like poetry&mdash;wasn't it, now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very! I never read a novel like
+that. Very extraordinary!"</p>
+
+<p>A tall, lank, wiry boy came up to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Abe, I do declare!" said Aunt Olive. "Come in. I'm makin' doughnuts,
+and you sha'n't have one of them. I make Scriptur' doughnuts, and the
+Scriptur' says if a man spends his time porin' over books, of which
+there is no end, neither shall he eat, or somethin' like that&mdash;now don't
+it, elder?&mdash;But seein' it's you, Abe, and you are a pretty good boy,
+after all, when people are in trouble, and sick and such, I'll make you
+an elephant. There ain't any elephants in Injiany."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Olive cut a piece of doughnut dough in the shape of a picture-book
+elephant and tossed it into the fat. It swelled up to enormous
+proportions, and when she scooped it out with a ladle it was, for a
+doughnut, an elephant indeed.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Abe, there's your elephant.&mdash;And, elder, here's a whole pan full
+of twisted doughnuts. You said that you were goin' to meet Black Hawk.
+Where does he live? Tell us all about him."</p>
+
+<p>"I will do so, my good woman," said Jasper. "I want you to be interested
+in my Indian missions. When I come this way again, I shall be likely to
+bring with me an Indian guide, an uncommon boy, I am told. You shall
+hear my story."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>JASPER GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO BLACK HAWK.&mdash;AUNT INDIANA'S WIG.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana, Jasper, John Hanks, and young Abraham Lincoln sat between
+the dying logs in the great fireplace and the open door. The company was
+after a little time increased for Thomas Lincoln came slowly into the
+clearing, and saying, "How-dy?" and "The top of the day to ye all," sat
+down in the sunshine on the log step; and soon after came Dennis Hanks
+and dropped down on a puncheon.</p>
+
+<p>"I think that you are misled," said Jasper, "when you say that Black
+Hawk was born at Kaskaskia. If I remember rightly, he said to me: 'I was
+born in this Sac village. Here I spent my youth; my fathers' graves are
+here, and the graves of my children, and here where I was born I wish to
+die.' Rock Island, as the northern islands, rapids, and bluffs of the
+Mississippi are called, is a very beautiful place. Black Hawk clings to
+the spot as to his life. 'I love to look down,' he said, 'upon the big
+rivers, shady groves, and green prairies from the graves of my fathers,'
+and I do not wonder at this feeling. His blood is the same and his
+rights are the same as any other king, and he loves Nature and has a
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my calling to teach and preach among the Indians<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> and new towns
+of Illinois. This call came to me in Pennsylvania. God willed it, and I
+had no will but to obey. I heard the Voice within, just as I heard it in
+Germany on the Rhine. <i>There</i> it said, 'Go to America.' In Pennsylvania
+it said, 'Go to the Illinois.'</p>
+
+<p>"I went. I have walked all the way, teaching and preaching in the log
+school-houses. I sowed the good seed, and left the harvest to the
+heavens. Why should I be anxious in regard to the result? I walk by
+faith, and I know what the result will be in God's good time, without
+seeking for it. Why should I stop to number the people? I know.</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted an Indian guide and interpreter, and the inward Voice told me
+to go to Black Hawk and secure one from the chief himself. So I went to
+the bluffs of the Mississippi, and told Black Hawk all my heart, and he
+let me preach in his lodges, and I made some strong winter shoes for
+him, and tried to teach the children by signs. So I was fed by the
+ravens of the air. He had no interpreter or runner such as he would
+trust to go with me; but he told me if I would return in the May moon,
+he would provide me one. He said that it would be a boy by the name of
+Waubeno, whose father was a noble warrior and had had a strange and
+mysterious history. The boy was then traveling with an old uncle by the
+name of Main-Pogue. These names sound strange to German ears: Waubeno
+and Main-Pogue! I promised to return in May. I am on my way.</p>
+
+<p>"If I get the boy Waubeno&mdash;and the Voice within tells me that I will&mdash;I
+intend to travel a circuit, round and round, round and round, teaching
+and preaching. I can see my circuit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> now in my mind. This is the map of
+it: From Rock Island to Fort Dearborn (Chicago); from Fort Dearborn to
+the Ohio, which will bring me here again; and from the Ohio to the
+Mississippi, and back to Rock Island, and so round and round, round and
+round. Do you see?"</p>
+
+<p>The homely travels of Thomas Lincoln and the limited geography of Andrew
+Crawford had not prepared Jasper's audience to see even this small
+circuit very distinctly. Thomas Lincoln, like the dwellers in the
+Scandinavian valleys, doubtless believed that there "are people beyond
+the mountains, <i>also</i>" but he knew little of the world outside of
+Kentucky and Illinois. Mrs. Eastman was quite intelligent in regard to
+New England and the Middle States, but the West to her mind was simply
+land&mdash;"oceans of it," as she expressed herself&mdash;"where every one was at
+liberty to choose without infringin' upon anybody."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you ever stop to build up churches?" said Mrs. Eastman to Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"You just baptize 'em, and let 'em run. That's what I can't understand.
+I can't get at it. What are you really doin'? Now, say?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am the Voice in the wilderness, preparing the way."</p>
+
+<p>"No family name?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. What have I to do with a name?"</p>
+
+<p>"No money?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only what I earn."</p>
+
+<p>"That's queerer yet. Well, you are just the man to preach to the
+uninhabited places of the earth. Tell us more about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> Black Hawk. I want
+to hear of him, although we all are wastin' a pile of time when we all
+ought to be to work. Tell us about Black Hawk, and then we'll all up and
+be doin'. My fire is goin' out now."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a revengeful critter, that Black Hawk," said Thomas Lincoln, "and
+you had better be pretty wary of him. You don't know Indians. He's a
+flint full of fire, so people say that come to the smithy. You look
+out."</p>
+
+<p>"He has had his wrongs," said Jasper, "and he has been led by his animal
+nature to try to avenge them. Had he listened to the higher teachings of
+the soul, it might have been different. We should teach him."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it that set him against white folks?" asked Mrs. Eastman.</p>
+
+<p>"He told me the whole story," said Jasper, "and it made my heart bleed
+for him. He's a child of Nature, and has a great soul, but it needs a
+teacher. The Indians need teachers. I am sent to teach in the
+wilderness, and to be fed by the birds of the air. I am sent from over
+the sea. But listen to the tale of Black Hawk. You complain of your
+wrongs, don't you? Why should not he?</p>
+
+<p>"Years ago Black Hawk had an old friend whom he dearly loved, for the
+friendships of Indians are ardent and noble. That friend had a boy, and
+Black Hawk loved this boy and adopted him as his own, and became as a
+father to him, and taught him to hunt and to go to war. When Black Hawk
+joined the British he wished to take this boy with him to Canada; but
+his own father said that he needed him to care for him in his old age,
+to fish and to hunt for him. He said, moreover,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> that he did not like
+his boy to fight against the Americans, who had always treated him
+kindly. So Black Hawk left the boy with his old father.</p>
+
+<p>"On his return to Rock River and the bluffs of the Mississippi, after
+the war on the lakes, and as he was approaching his own town in the
+sunset, he chanced to notice a column of white smoke curling from a
+hollow in one of the bluffs. He stepped aside to see what was there. As
+he looked over the bluff he saw a fire, and an aged Indian sitting alone
+on a prayer-mat before it, as though humbling himself before the Great
+Spirit. He went down to the place and found that the man was his old
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>"'How came you here?' asked Black Hawk. But, although the old Indian's
+lip moved, he received no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"'What has happened?' asked Black Hawk.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a pitiful look in the old man's eyes, but this was his only
+reply. The old Indian seemed scarcely alive. Black Hawk brought some
+water to him. It revived him. His consciousness and memory seemed to
+return. He looked up. With staring eyes he said, suddenly:</p>
+
+<p>"'Thou art Black Hawk! O Black Hawk, Black Hawk, my old friend, he is
+gone!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Who has gone?'</p>
+
+<p>"'The life of my heart is gone, he whom you used to love. Gone, like a
+maple-leaf. Gone! Listen, O Black Hawk, listen.</p>
+
+<p>"'After you went away to fight for the British, I came down the river at
+the request of the pale-faces to winter there. When I arrived I found
+that the white people had built a fort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> there. I went to the fort with
+my son to tell the people that we were friendly."</p>
+
+<p>"'The white war-chief received me kindly, and told us that we might hunt
+on this side of the Mississippi, and that he would protect us. So we
+made our camp there. We lived happy, and we loved to talk of you, O
+Black Hawk!</p>
+
+<p>"'We were there two moons, when my boy went to hunt one day,
+unsuspicious of any danger. We thought the white man spoke true. Night
+came, and he did not return. I could not sleep that night. In the
+morning I sent out the old woman to the near lodges to give an alarm,
+and say that my boy must be sought.</p>
+
+<p>"'There was a band formed to hunt for him. Snow was on the ground, and
+they found his tracks&mdash;my boy's tracks. They followed them, and saw that
+he had been pursuing a deer to the river. They came upon the deer, which
+he had killed and left hanging on the branch of a tree. It was as he had
+left it.</p>
+
+<p>"'But here they found the tracks of the white man. The pale-faces had
+been there, and had taken our boy prisoner. They followed the tracks and
+they found him. O Black Hawk! he was dead&mdash;my boy! The white men had
+murdered him for killing the deer near the fort; and the land was ours.
+His face was all shot to pieces. His body was stabbed through and
+through, and they had torn the hair from his head. They had tied his
+hands behind him before they murdered him. Black Hawk, my heart is dead.
+What do the hawks in the sky say?'</p>
+
+<p>"The old Indian fell into a stupor, from which he soon expired. Black
+Hawk watched over his body during the night,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> and the next day he buried
+it upon the bluff. It was at that grave that Black Hawk listened to the
+hawks in the sky, and vowed vengeance against the white people forever,
+and summoned his warriors for slaughter."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a hard Indian," said Thomas Lincoln. "Don't you trust Black Hawk.
+You don't know him."</p>
+
+<p>"Hard? Yes, but did not your brother Mordecai make the same vow and
+follow the same course after the murder of your father by the Indians? A
+slayer of man is a slayer of man whoever and wherever he may be. May the
+gospel bring the day when the shedding of human blood will cease! But
+the times are still evil. The world waits still for the manifestation of
+the sons of God; as of old it waits. I have given all I am to the
+teaching of the gospel of peace. The Indians need it; you need it, all
+of you. You do the same things that the savages do."</p>
+
+<p>"Just hear him!" said Aunt Indiana.&mdash;"Who are you preachin' to, elder?
+Callin' us savages! I'm an exhorter myself, I'd like to have you know. I
+could exhort <i>you</i>. Savages? We know Indians here better than you do.
+You wait."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me tell you a story now," said Thomas Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you will," said Aunt Indiana. "Thomas Lincoln never heard a
+story told without telling another one to match it; and Abe, here, is
+just like him. The thing that has been, is, as the Scriptur' says."</p>
+
+
+<h4><i>AN ASTONISHED INDIAN.</i></h4>
+
+<p>"Well," said Thomas Lincoln, "I hain't no faith at all, elder, in
+Injuns. I once knew of a woman in Kentuck, in my father's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> day, who knew
+enough for 'em, and the way that she cleared 'em out showed an amazin'
+amount of spirit. Women was women in Daniel Boone's time, in old
+Kentuck. The Injuns found 'em up and doin', and they learned to sidle
+away pretty rapid-like when they met a sun-bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as I was sayin', this was in my father's time. The Injuns were
+prowlin' about pretty plenty then, and one day one of 'em came, all
+feathers and paint, and whoops and prancin's, to a house owned by a Mr.
+Daviess, and found that the man of the house was gone.</p>
+
+<p>"But the wimmin-folks were at home&mdash;Mrs. Daviess and the children. Well,
+the Injun came on like a champion, swingin' his tommyhawk and liftin'
+his heels high. The only weapon that the good woman had was a bottle of
+whisky.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, whisky is a good weapon sometimes&mdash;there's many a man that has
+found it a slow gunpowder. Well, this woman, as I was sayin', had her
+wits about her. What do you think that she did?</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she just brought out the whisky-bottle, and held it up before
+him&mdash;<i>so</i>. It made his eyes sparkle, you may be sure of that!</p>
+
+<p>"'Fire-water,' said she, 'mighty temptin'.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ugh!' said the Indian, all humps and antics and eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh! Did you ever hear an Injun say that&mdash;'Ugh?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Have some?' said she.</p>
+
+<p>"Have some? Of course he did.</p>
+
+<p>"She got a glass and put it on the table, and then she uncorked the
+bottle and <i>handed</i> it to him to pour out the whisky. He lost his wits
+at once.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He set down his gun to pour out a dram, all giddy, when Mrs. Daviess
+seized the shooter and lifted it up quick as a flash and pointed to his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"'Set that down, or I'll fire! Set that bottle down!'</p>
+
+<p>"The poor Injun's jaw dropped. He set down the bottle, looked wild, and
+begged for his life.</p>
+
+<p>"'Set still,' said she; and he looked at the whisky-bottle and then
+slunk all up in a heap and remained silent as a dead man until Mr.
+Daviess came home, when he was allowed to crawl away into the forest. He
+gave one parting look at the bottle, but he never wanted to see a white
+woman again, I'll be bound."</p>
+
+<p>"You ridicule the Indian for his love of whisky," said the Tunker, "but
+who taught him to love it? Woe unto the world because of offenses."</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" said John Hanks, starting up. "Here comes Johnnie Kongapod
+again, from the Illinois. I like to see any one from Illinois, even if
+he is an Indian. I'm goin' there myself some day. I've a great opinion
+of that there prairie country&mdash;hain't you, elder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is a garden of wild flowers that seems as wide as the sky. It
+can all be turned into green, and it will be some day."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana greeted the Indian civilly, and the Tunker held out his
+hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Elder," said Aunt Indiana, "I must tell you one of my own experiences,
+now that Johnnie Kongapod has come&mdash;the one that they bantered me about
+over to the smithy. Johnnie and I are old friends. I used to be a kind
+of travelin' preacher<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> myself; I am now&mdash;I go to camp-meetin's, and I
+always do my duty.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, a few years ago, durin' the Injun troubles, there was goin' to be
+a camp-meetin' on the Illinois side, and I wanted to go. Now, Johnnie
+Kongapod is a good Injun, and I arranged with him that he should go with
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't know that I wore a wig, did ye, elder? No? Well, most people
+don't. I have had to wear a wig ever since I had the scarlet fever, when
+I was a girl. I'm kind o' ashamed to tell of it, I've so much nateral
+pride, but have to speak of it when I tell this story.</p>
+
+<p>"Johnnie Kongapod never saw a wig before I showed him mine, and I never
+showed it to him until I had to.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he came over from Illinois, and we started off together to the
+camp-meetin'. It was a lovely time on the prairies. The grass was all
+ripe and wavin', and the creeks were all alive with ducks, and there
+were prairie chickens everywhere. I felt very brisk and chipper.</p>
+
+<p>"We had two smart horses, and we cantered along. I sang hymns, and sort
+o' preached to Johnnie, when all at once we saw a shadow on the prairie
+like a cloud, and who should come ridin' up but three Injuns! I was
+terribly frightened. I could see that they were hostile Injuns&mdash;Sacs,
+from Black Hawk. One of them swung his tommyhawk in the air, and made
+signs that he was goin' to scalp me. Johnnie began to beg for me, and I
+thought that my last hour had come.</p>
+
+<p>"The Injun wheeled his pony, rode away, then turned and came dashin'
+towards me, with tommyhawk lifted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'Me scalp!' said he, as he dashed by me. Then he turned his horse and
+came plungin' towards me again.</p>
+
+<p>"Elder, what do you think I did? I snatched off my bonnet and threw it
+upon the ground. Then I grabbed my wig, held it up in the air, and when
+the Injun came rushin' by I held it out to him.</p>
+
+<p>"'There it is,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;would you believe it?&mdash;that Injun gave one glance at it, and put
+spurs to his horse, and he never stopped runnin' till he was out of
+sight. The two other Injuns took one look at my wig as I held it out in
+my hand.</p>
+
+<p>"'Scalped herself!' said one.</p>
+
+<p>"'Took her head off!' said the other. 'She conjur's!'</p>
+
+<p>"They spurred their horses and flew over the prairie like the wind.
+And&mdash;and&mdash;must I say it?&mdash;Johnnie Kongapod&mdash;he ran too; and so I put on
+my wig, picked up my sun-bonnet, and turned and came home again.</p>
+
+<p>"There are some doughnuts, Johnnie Kongapod, if you did desert me.</p>
+
+<p>"Elder, this is a strange country. And don't you believe any stories
+about honest Injuns that the law condemns, and that go home to see their
+families overnight and return again; you will travel a long way, elder,
+before you find any people of that kind, Injuns or white folks. I know.
+I haven't lived fifty years in this troublesome world for nothin'.
+People who live up in the air, as you do, elder, have to come down. I'm
+sorry. You mean well!"</p>
+
+<p>Johnnie Kongapod arose, lifted his brown arm silently, and, bending his
+earnest face on Jasper, said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>That</i> story is true. You will know. Time tells the truth. Wait!"</p>
+
+<p>"Return in the morning to be shot!" said Aunt Olive. "Injuns don't do
+that way here. When I started for Injiany I was told of a mother-in-law
+who was so good that all her daughters' husbands asked her to come and
+live with them. They said she moved to Injiany. Now, I have traveled
+about this State to all the camp-meetin's, and I never found her
+anywhere. Stands to reason that no such story as that is true. You'll
+have to travel a long way, elder, before you find any people of that
+kind in these parts."</p>
+
+<p>Whom was Jasper to believe&mdash;the confident Indian or the pioneers?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Examination-day is an important time in country schools, and it excited
+more interest seventy years ago than now. Andrew Crawford was always
+ambitious that this day should do credit to his faithful work, and his
+pupils caught his inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>There were great preparations for the examination at Crawford's this
+spring. The appearance of the German school-master in the place who
+could read Latin was an event. Years after, when the pure gold of fame
+was no longer a glimmering vision or a current of fate, but a wonderful
+fact, Abraham Lincoln wrote of such visits as Jasper's in the settlement
+a curious sentence in an odd hand in an autobiography, which we
+reproduce here:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus-110.jpg" width="500" height="119" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>With such a "wizard" as Jasper in the settlement, who would certainly
+attend the examination, it is no wonder that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> this special event excited
+the greatest interest in all the cabins between the two Pigeon Creeks of
+southern Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>"May we decorate the school-house?" asked a girl of Mr. Crawford, before
+the appointed day. "May we decorate the school-house out of the woods?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am chiefly desirous that you should decorate your minds out of the
+spelling-book," said Mr. Crawford; "but it is a commendable thing to
+have an eye to beauty, and to desire to present a good appearance. Yes,
+you may decorate the house out of the woods."</p>
+
+<p>The timber was green in places with a vine called creeping Jenney, and
+laurels whose leaves were almost as green and waxy as those of the
+Southern magnolia. The creeping Jenney could be entwined with the
+laurel-leaves in such a way as to form long festoons. The boys and girls
+spent the mornings and recesses for several days in gathering Jenney,
+and in twining the vines with the laurel and making decorative festoons.</p>
+
+<p>They hung these festoons about the wooden walls of the low building and
+over the door. Out of the tufts of boxberry leaves and plums they made
+the word "Welcome," which they hung over the door. They covered the rude
+chimney with pine-boughs, and in so doing filled the room with a
+resinous odor. They also covered the roof with boughs of evergreen.</p>
+
+<p>The spelling-book was not neglected in the preparations of the eventful
+week. There was to be a spelling-match on the day, and, although it was
+already felt that Abraham Lincoln would easily win, there was hard study
+on the part of all.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, after school, in the midst of these heroic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> preparations,
+a party of the scholars were passing along the path in the timber. A
+dispute arose between two boys in regard to the spelling of a word.</p>
+
+<p>"I spelled it just as Crawford did," said one.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you didn't. Crawford spelled it with a <i>i</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"He spelled it with a <i>y</i>, and that is just the way I spelled it."</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't, now, I know! I heard Crawford spell it himself."</p>
+
+<p>"He did!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to tell me that I lie?"</p>
+
+<p>"You do&mdash;it don't need telling."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't be called a liar by anybody. I'll make you ache for that!"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see about that. You may ache yourself before this thing is
+settled. I've got fists as well as you, and I will not take such words
+as that from anybody. Come on!"</p>
+
+<p>The two backwoods knights rushed toward each other with a wounded sense
+of honor in their hearts and with uplifted arms.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a form like a giant passed between them. It took one boy under
+one of its arms and the other under the other, and strode down the
+timber.</p>
+
+<p>"He called me a liar," said one of the boys. "I won't stand that from
+any <i>man</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"He <i>sassed</i> me," said the other, "and I won't stand any sassin', not
+while my fists are alive."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You</i> wouldn't be called a liar," said the first.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor take any sassin'," said the second.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The tall form in blue-jean shirt and leather breeches strode on, with
+the two boys under its arms.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg!" at last said one of the boys.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg!" said the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll let you go, and we'll all be friends again!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Abraham, I'll give in, if he will."</p>
+
+<p>"I will. Let me go."</p>
+
+<p>The tall form dropped the two boys, and soon all was peace in the
+April-like air.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln will never allow any quarrels in our school," said
+another boy. "Where he is there has to be peace. It wouldn't be fair for
+him to use his strength so, only he's always right; and when strength is
+right it is all for the best."</p>
+
+<p>The boy had a rather clear perception of the true principles of human
+government. A will to do right and the power to enforce it, make nations
+great as well as character powerful.</p>
+
+<p>The eventful day came, with blue-birds in the glimmering timber, and a
+blue sky over all. People came from a distance to attend the
+examination, and were surprised to find the school-house changed into a
+green bower.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;">
+<img src="images/illus-114.jpg" width="329" height="500" alt="Abraham as a Peace-maker." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Abraham as a Peace-maker.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The afternoon session had been assigned to receiving company, and the
+pupils awaited the guests with trembling expectation. It was a warm day,
+and the oiled paper that served for panes of glass in the windows had
+been pushed aside to admit the air and make an outlook, and the door had
+been left open. The first to arrive was Jasper. The school saw him
+coming; but he looked so kindly, benevolent, and patriarchal, that the
+boys and girls did not stand greatly in awe of him. They seemed to feel
+instinctively that he was their friend and was with them. But a
+different feeling came over them when 'Squire Gentry, of Gentryville,
+came cantering on a horse that looked like a war-charger. 'Squire Gentry
+was a great man in those parts, and filled a continental space in their
+young minds. The faces of all the scholars were turned silently and
+deferently to their books when the 'Squire banged with his whip-handle
+on the door. Aunt Olive was next seen coming down the timber. She was
+dressed in a manner to cause solicitude and trepidation. She wore knit
+mits, had a lofty poke bonnet, and a "checkered" gown gay enough for a
+valance, and, although it was yet very early spring, she carried a
+parasol over her head. There was deep interest in the books as her form
+also darkened the festooned door.</p>
+
+<p>Then the pupils breathed freer. But only for a moment. Sarah Lincoln,
+Abraham's sister, looked out of the window, and beheld a sight which she
+was not slow to communicate.</p>
+
+<p>"Abe," she whispered, "look there!"</p>
+
+<p>"Blue-nose Crawford," whispered the tall boy, "as I live!"</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments the school was all eyes and mouths. Blue-nose Crawford
+bore the reputation of being a very hard taskmaster, and of holding to
+the view that severe discipline was one of the virtues that wisdom ought
+to visit upon the youth. He once lent to Abraham Lincoln Weems's "Life
+of Washington." The boy read it with absorbing interest, but there came
+a driving storm, and the rain ran in the night through the walls of the
+log-cabin and wet and warped the cover of the book. Blue-nose Crawford
+charged young Lincoln seventy-five cents for the damage done to the
+book. "Abe," as he was called, worked three days, at twenty-five cents a
+day,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> pulling fodder, to pay the fine. He said, long after this hard
+incident, that he did his work well, and that, although his feelings
+were injured, he did not leave so much as a strip of fodder in the
+field.</p>
+
+<p>"The class in reading may take their places," said Andrew Crawford.</p>
+
+<p>It was a tall class, and it was provided with leather-covered English
+Readers. One of the best readers in the class was a Miss Roby, a girl of
+some fifteen years of age, whom young Lincoln greatly liked, and whom he
+had once helped at a spelling match, by putting his finger on his eye
+(<i>i</i>) when she had spelled <i>defied</i> with a <i>y</i>. This girl read a
+selection with real pathos.</p>
+
+<p>"That gal reads well," said Blue-nose Crawford, or Josiah Crawford, as
+he should be called. "She ought to keep school. We're goin' to need
+teachers in Indiana. People are comin' fast."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Roby colored. She had indeed won a triumph of which every pupil of
+Spencer County might be proud.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Nathaniel, let's hear you read. You're a strappin' feller, and you
+ought not to be outread by a gal."</p>
+
+<p>Nathaniel raised his book so as to hide his face, like one near-sighted.
+He spread his legs apart, and stood like a drum-major awaiting a word of
+command.</p>
+
+<p>"You may read Section V in poetry," said Mr. Crawford, the teacher.
+"Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk. Speak up loud, and
+mind your pauses."</p>
+
+<p>He did.</p>
+
+<p>"I am monarch of all I survey," he began, in a tone of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> vocal thunder.
+Then he made a pause, a very long one. Josiah Crawford turned around in
+great surprise; and Aunt Olive planted the chair in which she had been
+sitting at a different angle, so that she could scrutinize the reader.</p>
+
+<p>The monarch of all he surveyed, which in the case of the boy was only
+one page of the English Reader, was diligently spelling out the next
+line, which he proceeded to pronounce like one long word with surprising
+velocity:</p>
+
+<p>"My-right-there-is-none-to-dispute."</p>
+
+<p>There was another pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold down your book," said the master.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, hold down your book," said Josiah Crawford. "What do ye cover yer
+face for? There's nuthin' to be ashamed of. Now try again."</p>
+
+<p>Nathaniel lowered the book and revealed the singular struggle that was
+going on in his mind. He had to spell out the words to himself, and in
+doing so his face was full of the most distressing grimaces. He
+unconsciously lifted his eyebrows, squinted his eyes, and drew his mouth
+hither and thither.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"From the cen-t-e-r, center; center, all round <i>to</i> the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am lord of the f-o-w-l <i>and</i>-the-brute."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The last line came to a sudden conclusion, and was followed by a very
+long pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," said Andrew Crawford, the master.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, go on," said Josiah. "At the rate you're goin' now you won't get
+through by candle-light."</p>
+
+<p>Nathaniel lifted his eyebrows and uttered a curiously exciting&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"O"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"That boy'll have a fit," said Aunt Olive. "Don't let him read any more,
+for massy sake!"</p>
+
+<p>"O&mdash;What's that word, master? S-o-l-i-t-u-d-e, so-li-tu-de.
+O&mdash;So-li-tu-de."</p>
+
+<p>"O Solitude, where are the charms?" read Mr. Andrew Crawford,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"That sages have seen in thy face?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better dwell in the midst of alarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than reign in this horrible place."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Nathaniel followed the master like a race-horse. He went on smoothly
+until he came to "this horrible place," when his face assumed a startled
+expression, like one who had met with an apparition. He began to spell
+out <i>horrible</i>, "h-o-r-, hor&mdash;there's your hor, <i>hor</i>; r-i-b-, there's
+your <i>rib</i>, horrib&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't let that boy read any more," said Aunt Olive.</p>
+
+<p>Nathaniel dropped his book by his side, and cast a far-away glance into
+the timber.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I ain't much of a reader," he remarked, dryly.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, sir!" said the master.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Nathaniel! Once, in attempting to read a Bible story, he read, "And
+he smote the Hittite that he died"&mdash;"And he smote him Hi-ti-ti-ty, that
+he <i>did</i>" with great emphasis and brief self-congratulation.</p>
+
+<p>In wonderful contrast to Nathaniel's efforts was the reading in concert
+by the whole class. Here was shown fine preparation for a forest school.
+The reading of verses, in which "sound corresponded to the
+signification," was smoothly, musically, and admirably done, and we give
+some of these curious exercises here:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h4><i>Felling trees in a wood.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Sounds of a bow-string.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i28">The string let fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twanged short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>The pheasant.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mounts exulting on triumphant wings.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Scylla and Charybdis.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rough rock roars; tumultuous boil the waves.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Boisterous and gentle sounds.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The roaring winds' tempestuous rage restrain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ships secure without their hawsers ride.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Laborious and impetuous motion.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With many a weary step, and many a groan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The huge round stone resulting with a bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Regular and slow movement.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">First march the heavy mules securely slow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks they go.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Motion slow and difficult.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A needless Alexandrine ends the song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>A rock torn from the brow of a mountain.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Still gath'ring force, it smokes, and urged amain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whirls, leaps, and thunders down impetuous to the plain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Extent and violence of the waves.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The waves behind impel the waves before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Pensive numbers.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In these deep solitudes and awful cells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ever-musing melancholy reigns.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Battle.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Arms on armor clashing brayed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Horrible discord; and the madding wheels<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of brazen fury raged.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h4><i>Sound imitating reluctance.</i></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>A spelling exercise followed, in which the pupils spelled for places, or
+for the head. Abraham Lincoln stood at the head of the class. He was
+regarded as the best speller in Spencer County. He is noted to have soon
+exhausted all that the three teachers whom he found there could teach
+him. Once, in after years, when he was asked how he came to know so
+much, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> answered, "By a willingness to learn of every one who could
+teach me anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham," said Master Crawford, "you have maintained your place at the
+head of the class during the winter. You may take your place now at the
+foot of the class, and try again."</p>
+
+<p>The spelling for turns, or for the head, followed the method of the old
+Webster's "Speller," that was once so popular in country schools:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">ail, to be in trouble.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">ale, malt liquor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">air, the atmosphere.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>h</i>eir, one who inherits.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">all, the whole.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">awl, an instrument.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">al-tar, a place for offerings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">al-ter, to change.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">ant, a little insect.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">a<i>u</i>nt, a sister to a parent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">ark, a vessel.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">arc, part of a circle.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>All went correctly and smoothly, to the delight and satisfaction of
+Josiah Crawford and Aunt Olive, until the word <i>drachm</i> was reached,
+when all the class failed except Abraham Lincoln, who easily passed up
+to the head again.</p>
+
+<p>The writing-books, or copy-books, were next shown to the visitors. The
+writing had been done on puncheon-desks with home made ink. Abraham
+Lincoln's copy-book showed the same characteristic hand that signed the
+Emancipation Proclamation. In one corner of a certain page he had
+written an odd bit of verse in which one may read a common experience in
+the struggles of life after what is better and higher. Emerson said, "A
+high aim is curative." Poor backwoods Abe seemed to have the same
+impression, but he did not write it down in an Emersonian way, but in
+this odd rhyme:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Abraham Lincoln,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His hand and pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will be good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But God knows when."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The exercises ended with a grand dialogue translated from F&eacute;nelon
+between Dionysius, Pythias, and Damon, in which fidelity in friendship
+was commended. After this, each of the visitors, Aunt Olive included,
+was asked to make a "few remarks." Aunt Olive's remarks were "few," but
+to the point:</p>
+
+<p>"Children, you have read well, and spelled well, and are good
+arithme<i>tickers</i>, but you ain't sot still. There!"</p>
+
+<p>Josiah Crawford thought the progress of the school had been excellent,
+but that more of the rod had been needed.</p>
+
+<p>(Where had all the green bushes gone in the clearing, but to purposes of
+discipline?)</p>
+
+<p>Then good Brother Jasper was asked to speak. The "wizard" who could
+speak Latin arose. The pupils could see his great heart under his face.
+It shone through. His fine German culture did not lead him away from the
+solid merits of the forest school.</p>
+
+<p>"There are purposes in life that we can not see," he began, "but the
+secret comes to those who listen to the beating of the human heart, and
+at the doors of heaven. Spirits whisper, as it were. The soul, a great
+right intention, is here; and there is a conscience here which is power;
+and here, for aught we can say, may be some young Servius Tullius of
+this wide republic."</p>
+
+<p>Servius Tullius? Would any one but he have dreamed that the citizens of
+Rome would one day delight to honor an ungainly pupil of that forest
+school?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One day there came to Washington a present to the Liberator of the
+American Republic. It looked as follows, and bore the following
+inscription:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus-124.jpg" width="500" height="335" alt="&quot;To Abraham Lincoln&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;To Abraham Lincoln, President, for the second time, of
+the American Republic, citizens of Rome present this stone, from the
+wall of Servius Tullius, by which the memory of each of those brave
+assertors of liberty may be associated. Anno 1865.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is said that the modest President shrank from receiving such a
+compliment as that. It was too much. He hid away the stone in a
+storeroom of the capital, in the basement of the White House. It now
+constitutes a part of his monument, being one of the most impressive
+relics in the Memorial Hall of that structure. It is twenty-four hundred
+years old, and it traveled across the world to the prairies of Illinois,
+a tribute from the first advocate of the rights of the people to the
+latest defender of all that is sacred to the human soul.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE PARABLE PREACHES IN THE WILDERNESS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The house in which young Abraham Lincoln attended church was simple and
+curious, as were the old forest Baptist preachers who conducted the
+services there. It was called simply the "meeting-house." It stood in
+the timber, whose columns and aisles opened around it like a vast
+cathedral, where the rocks were altars and the birds were choirs. It was
+built of rude logs, and had hard benches, but the plain people had done
+more skillful work on this forest sanctuary than on the school-house.
+The log meeting-house stood near the log school-house, and both revealed
+the heart of the people who built them. It was the Prussian
+school-master, trained in the moral education of Pestalozzi, that made
+the German army victorious over France in the late war. And it was the
+New England school-master that built the great West, and made Plymouth
+Rock the crown-stone of our own nation. The world owes to humble
+Pestalozzi what it never could have secured from a Napoleon. It is right
+ideas that march to the conquest, that lift mankind, and live.</p>
+
+<p>It had been announced in the school-house that Jasper the Parable would
+preach in the log church on Sunday. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> school-master called the
+wandering teacher "Jasper the Parable," but the visitor became commonly
+known as the "Old Tunker" in the community. The news flew for miles that
+"an old Tunker" was to preach. No event had awakened a greater interest
+since Elder Elkins, from Kentucky, had come to the settlement to preach
+Nancy Lincoln's funeral sermon under the great trees. On that occasion
+all the people gathered from the forest homes of the vast region. Every
+one now was eager to visit the same place in the beautiful spring
+weather, and to "hear what the old Tunker would have to say."</p>
+
+<p>Among the preachers who used to speak in the log meeting-house and in
+Thomas Lincoln's cabin were one Jeremiah Cash, and John Richardson, and
+young Lamar. The two latter preachers lived some ten miles distant from
+the church; but ten miles was not regarded as a long Sabbath-day journey
+in those days in Indiana. When the log meeting-house was found too small
+to hold the people, such preachers would exhort under the trees. There
+used to be held religious meetings in the cabins, after the manner of
+the present English cottage prayer-meetings. These used to be appointed
+to take place at "early candle-lighting," and many of the women who
+attended used to bring tallow dips with them, and were looked upon as
+the "wise virgins" who took oil in their lamps.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely Sunday in April. The warm sunlight filled the air and
+bird-songs the trees. The notes of the lark, the sparrow, and the
+prairie plover were bells&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"To call me to duty, while birds in the air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sang anthems of praise as I went forth to prayer,"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p>as one of the old hymns used to run. The buds on the trees were
+swelling. There was an odor of walnut and "sassafrax" in the tides of
+the sunny air. Cowslips and violets margined the streams, and the sky
+over all was serene and blue, and bright with the promise of the summer
+days.</p>
+
+<p>The people began to gather about the meeting-house at an early hour. The
+women came first, in corn-field bonnets which were scoop-shaped and
+flaring in front, and that ran out like horns behind. On these
+funnel-shaped, cornucopia-like head-gears there might now and then be
+seen the vanity of a ribbon. The girls carried their shoes in their
+hands until they came in sight of the meeting-house, when they would sit
+down on some mossy plat under an old tree, "bein' careful of the
+snakes," and put them on. All wore linsey-woolsey dresses, of which four
+or five yards of cloth were an ample pattern for a single garment, as
+they had no use for any superfluous polonaises in those times.</p>
+
+<p>Long before the time for the service the log meeting-house was full of
+women, and the yard full of men and horses. Some of the people had come
+from twenty miles away. Those who came from the longest distances were
+the first to arrive&mdash;as is usual, for in all matters in life promptness
+is proportioned to exertion.</p>
+
+<p>When the Parable came, Thomas Lincoln met him.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't preach here," said he. "Half the people couldn't hear you.
+You have a small voice. You don't holler and pound like the rest of 'em,
+I take it. Suppose you preach out under the trees, where all the people
+can hear ye. It looks mighty pleasant there. With our old sing-song
+preachers it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> don't make so much difference. We could hear one of them
+if you were to shut him up in jail. But with you it is different. You
+have been brought up different among those big churches over there. What
+do you say, preacher?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather preach under the trees. I love the trees. They are the
+meeting-house of God."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, preacher, would you mind goin' over and preachin' at Nancy's
+grave? Elder Elkins preached there, and the other travelin' ministers.
+Seems kind o' holy over there. Nancy was a good woman, and all the
+people liked her. She was Abraham's mother. The trees around her grave
+are beautiful."</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to preach there, by that lonely grave in the wilderness."</p>
+
+<p>"The Tunker will preach at Nancy's grave," said Thomas Lincoln in a loud
+voice. He led the way to the great cathedral of giant trees, which were
+clouded with swelling buds and old moss, and a long procession of people
+followed him there.</p>
+
+<p>Among them was Aunt Olive, with a corn-field bonnet of immense
+proportions, and her hymn-book. She was a lively worshiper. At all the
+meetings she sang, and at the Methodist meetings she shouted; and after
+all religious occasions she "tarried behind," to discuss the sermon with
+the minister. She usually led the singing. Her favorite hymns were, "Am
+I a soldier of the Cross," "Come, thou Fount of every blessing," and "My
+Bible leads to glory." The last hymn and tune suited her emotional
+nature, and she would pitch it upon a high key, and make the woods ring
+with the curious musical exhortation of the chorus:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"Sing on, pray on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye followers of Emmanuel."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>At the early candle-meetings at Thomas Lincoln's cabin and other cabins,
+she sang hymns of a more persuasive character. These were oddly
+appropriate to the hard-working, weary, yet hopeful community. One of
+these began thus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come, my brethren, let us try,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For a little season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every burden to lay by&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come, and let us reason.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is this that casts you down?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What is this that grieves you?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speak, and let the worst be known&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Speaking may <i>relieve</i> you."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The music was weird and in a minor key. It was sung often with a
+peculiar motion of the body, a forward-and-backward movement, with
+clasped hands and closed eyes. Another of the pioneer hymns began:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Brethren, we have met for worship,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And to adore the Lord our God:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will you pray with all your power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While we wait upon the Lord?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All is vain unless the Spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the Holy One comes down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brethren, pray, and heavenly manna<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will be showered all around.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sisters, will you join and help us?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Moses' sister help-ed him," etc.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The full glory of a spring day in Indiana shone over the vast forests,
+as the Tunker rose to speak under the great trees. It was like an
+Easter, and, indeed, the hymn sung at the opening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> of the service was
+much like an Easter hymn. It related how&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"On this lovely morning my Saviour was rising,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chains of mortality fully despising;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His sufferings are over, he's done agonizing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This morning my Saviour will think upon <i>me</i>."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The individuality of the last line seemed especially comforting to many
+of the toiling people, and caused Aunt Olive to uplift her voice in a
+great shout.</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me," said Jasper; "come with me this morning, and we will
+walk beside the Sea of Galilee together. Galilee! I love to think of
+Galilee&mdash;far, far away. The words spoken on the shores of Galilee, and
+on the mountains over-looking Galilee, are the hope of the world. They
+are the final words of our all-loving Father to his children. Times may
+change, but these words will never be exceeded or superseded; nothing
+can ever go beyond these teachings of the brotherhood of man, and the
+way that the heart may find God, and become conscious of the presence of
+God, and know its immortality, and the everlasting truth. What did the
+great Teacher say on Galilee?"</p>
+
+<p>The Parable began to repeat from memory the Sermon on the Mount and the
+Galilean teachings. The birds came and sang in the trees during the long
+recitations, and the people sank down on the grass. Once or twice Aunt
+Olive's corn-field bonnet rose up, and out of it came a shout of
+"Glory!" One enthusiastic brother shouted, at one point of the
+quotations: "That's right, elder; pitch into 'em, and give it 'em&mdash;they
+need it. We're all sinners here; a good field to improve upon! Go on!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was past high noon when Jasper finished his quotations from the
+Gospels. He then paused, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want to know who I am, and why I am here, and what has sent me
+forth among the speckled birds of the forest? I will tell you. A true
+life has no secrets&mdash;it needs none; it is open to all like the
+revelations of the skies, and the sea, and the heart of Nature&mdash;what is
+concealed in the heart is what should not be.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a teacher. He is living now&mdash;an old, broken man&mdash;a name that will
+sound strange to your ears. He gave up his life to teach the orphans
+made by the war. He studied with them, learned with them, ate with them;
+he saw with their eyes and felt with their hearts. He taught after the
+school of Nature; as Nature teaches the child within, so he taught,
+using outward objects.</p>
+
+<p>"He once said to me:</p>
+
+<p>"'For thirty years my life has been a struggle against poverty. For
+thirty years I have had to forego many of the barest necessities of
+life, and have had to shun the society of my fellow-men for want of
+decent clothes. Many and many times I have gone without a dinner, and
+eaten in bitterness a dry crust of bread on the road, at a time when
+even the poorest were seated around a table. All this I have suffered,
+and am suffering still to-day, and with no other object than to realize
+my plan for helping the poor.'</p>
+
+<p>"When I heard him say that, I loved him. It made me ashamed of my
+selfish life. Then I heard the Dunkards preach, and tell of America over
+the sea. I began to study the words of the Teacher of Galilee. I, too,
+longed to teach. My<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> wife died, and my two children. Then I said: 'I
+will live for the soul. That is all that has any lasting worth. I will
+give up everything for the good of others, and go over the sea, and
+teach the children of the forest.' I am now on my way to see Black Hawk,
+who has promised to send out with me an interpreter and guide. I have
+given up my will, my property, and my name, and I am happy. Good-by, my
+friends. I have nothing, and am happy."</p>
+
+<p>At this point Aunt Olive's corn-field bonnet rose up, and her voice rang
+out on the air:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My brother, I wish you well!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My brother, I wish you well!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my Lord calls, I hope I shall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be <i>mentioned</i> in the promised land.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"My sister, I wish you well!" etc.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Poor sinners, I wish you well!" etc.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Galilee! There was one merry, fun-making boy in that sacred place, to
+whom, according to tradition, that word had a charm. He used to love to
+mimic the old backwoods preachers, and he became very skeptical in
+matters of Christian faith and doctrine, but he never forgot the
+teachings of the Teacher of Galilee. In the terrible duties that fell to
+his lot the principles of the Galilean teachings came home to his heart,
+and he came to know in experience what he had not accepted from the
+mouths of men. He is said to have said, just before his death, which
+bowed the nation: "When the cares of state are over, I want to go to
+Galilee," or words of like meaning. The legend is so beautiful that we
+could wish it to be true.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Jasper heard the local stories at the smithy and at Aunt Indiana's with
+intense interest. To him they furnished a study of the character of the
+people. They were not like stories of beautiful spiritual meaning that
+he had been accustomed to hear at Marienthal, at Weimar, and on the
+Rhine. The tales of Richter, Haupt, Hoffman, and Baron Fouqu&eacute; could
+never have been created here. These new settlements called for the
+incident or joke that represented a practical fact, and not the
+soul-growth of imagination. The one question of education was, "Can you
+cipher to the rule of three?" and of religion, "Have you found the
+Lord?" The favorite tales were of Indians, bears, and ghosts, and the
+rough hardships that overcome life. Jasper heard these tales with a
+sympathetic heart.</p>
+
+<p>The true German story is a parable, a word with a soul. Jasper loved
+them, for the tales of a people are the heart of a people, and express
+the progress of culture and opinion.</p>
+
+<p>One day, as Jasper was cobbling at Aunt Olive's, he sought to teach her
+a lesson of contentment by a German household story. Johnnie Kongapod
+had come in, and the woman was complaining of her hard and restricted
+life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Indiana," said Jasper, "do you have fairies here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never have seen any. We don't spin air here in America."</p>
+
+<p>"We have fairies in Germany. All the children there pass through
+fairy-land. There once came a fairy to an old couple who were
+complaining, like you."</p>
+
+<p>"Like me? I'm the contentedest woman in these parts. 'Tis no harm to
+wish for what you haven't got."</p>
+
+<p>"There came a fairy to them, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"'You may have three wishes. Wish.'</p>
+
+<p>"The old couple thought:</p>
+
+<p>"'We must be very wise,' said the woman, 'and not make any mistake,
+since we can only wish three times. I wish I had a pudding.'</p>
+
+<p>"Immediately there came a pudding upon the table. The poor woman was
+greatly surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"'There, you see what you have done by your foolish wishing!' said the
+man.</p>
+
+<p>"'One of our opportunities has gone,' said the woman. 'We have but two
+chances left. We must be <i>wiser</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>"They sat and looked into the fire. The fairy had disappeared from the
+hearth, and there were only embers and ashes there.</p>
+
+<p>"The man grew angry that his wife had lost one of their opportunities.</p>
+
+<p>"'Nothin' but a pudding!' said he. 'I wish that that miserable pudding
+were hung to your nose!'</p>
+
+<p>"The pudding leaped from the table and hung at the end of the old
+woman's nose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'There!' said she, 'now you see what you have done by your foolish
+wishing.'</p>
+
+<p>"The old man sighed. 'We have but one wish left. We must now be the
+wisest people in all the world.'</p>
+
+<p>"They watched the dying embers, and thought. As they did so, the pudding
+grew heavy at the end of the old woman's nose. At last she could endure
+it no longer.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh!' she said, 'how I wish that pudding was off again!'</p>
+
+<p>"The pudding disappeared, and the fairy was gone."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tain't true," said Aunt Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jasper, "what is true to life is true. Stories are the
+alphabet of life."</p>
+
+<p>Johnnie Kongapod had listened to the tale with delight. Aunt Indiana
+knew that no fairy would ever appear on her hearth, but Johnnie was not
+so sure.</p>
+
+<p>"I've seen 'em," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;what? What have you seen? I'd like to know," said Aunt Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>"Fairies&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"When I've been asleep."</p>
+
+<p>"There never was any fairies in my dreams," said Aunt Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>No, there were not. The German Tunker and the prairie Indian might see
+fairies, but the hard-working Yankee pioneer had no faculties for
+creative fancy. Her fairy was the plow that breaks the ground, or the
+axe that fells the timber. Yet the German soul-tale seemed to haunt her,
+and she at last said:</p>
+
+<p>"I wish that we had more such stories as that. It is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> pleasant talk. Abe
+Lincoln tells such things out of the Pilgrim's Progress. He's all
+imagination, just like you and the Indians. People who don't have much
+to do run to such things. I suppose that he has read that Pilgrim's
+Progress over a dozen times."</p>
+
+<p>"I have observed that the boy had ideals," said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"What's them?" said Aunt Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>"People build life out of ideals," said Jasper. "A cathedral is an ideal
+before it is a form. So is a house, a glass&mdash;everything. He has the
+creative imagination."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;that's what I said: always going around with a book in his hand,
+as though he was walking on the air."</p>
+
+<p>"His step-mother says that he's one of the best of boys. He does
+everything that he can for her, and he has never given her an unkind
+word. He loves his step-mother like an own mother, and he forgets
+himself for others. These are good signs."</p>
+
+<p>"Signs&mdash;signs! Stop your cobblin', elder, and let me prophesy! That boy
+just takes after his father, and he will never amount to anything in
+this world or any other. His mother what is dead was a good woman&mdash;an
+awful good woman; but she was sort o' visionary. They say that she used
+to see things at camp-meetin's, and lose her strength, and have far-away
+visions. She might have seen fairies. But she was an awful good
+woman&mdash;good to everybody, and everybody loved her; and we were all sorry
+when she died, and we all love her grave yet. It is queer, but we all
+seem to love her grave. A sermon goes better when it is preached there
+under the great trees. Some folks had rather hear a sermon preached
+there than at the meetin'-house. Some people leave a kind o'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> influence;
+<i>Miss</i> Linken did. The boy means well&mdash;his heart is all right, like his
+poor dead mother's was&mdash;but he hasn't got any head on 'im, like as I
+have. He hasn't got any calculation. And now, elder, I'm goin' to say
+it, though I'm sorry to: he'll never amount to shucks! There, now!
+Josiah Crawford says so, too."</p>
+
+<p>"There is one very strong point about Abraham," said Jasper. "He has a
+keen sense of what is right, and he is always governed by it. He has
+faith that right is might. Didn't you ever notice it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll do him justice. I never knew him to do a thing that he
+thought wrong&mdash;never. He couldn't. He takes after his mother's folks,
+and they say that there is Quaker blood in the Linkens."</p>
+
+<p>"But, my good woman, a fool would be wise if he always did right,
+wouldn't he? There is no higher wisdom than to always do right. And a
+boy that has a heart to feel for every one, and a conscience that is
+true to a sense of right, and that loves learning more than anything
+else, and studies continually, is likely to find a place in the world.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I am going to prophesy. This country is going to need men to lead
+them, and Abraham Lincoln will one day become a leader among men. He
+leads now. His heart leads; his mind leads. I can see it. The world here
+is going to need men of knowledge, and it will select the man of the
+most learning who has the most heart, the most sympathy with the people.
+It will select him. I have a spiritual eye, and I can see."</p>
+
+<p>"A leader of the people&mdash;Abe Lincoln! You have said it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> now. I would as
+soon think of Johnnie Kongapod! A leader of the people! Are you daft?
+When the prairies leap into corn-fields and the settlements into banks
+of gold, and men can travel a mile a minute, and clodhoppers become
+merchants and Congressers, and as rich as Spanish grandees, then Abraham
+Lincoln may become a leader of the people, but not till then! No, elder,
+you are no Samuel, that has come down here among the sons of Jesse to
+find a shepherd-boy for a king. You ain't no Samuel, and he ain't no
+shepherd-boy. He all runs to books and legs, and I tell you he ain't got
+no calculation. Now, I've prophesied and you've prophesied."</p>
+
+<p>"Time tells the truth about all things," said Jasper. "We shall meet, if
+I make my circuits, and we will talk of our prophecies in other years,
+should Providence permit. My soul has set its mark on that boy: wait,
+and we will see if the voice within me speaks true. It has always spoken
+true until now."</p>
+
+<p>At the close of this prophetic dialogue the subject of it appeared at
+the door. He was a tall boy, with a dark face, homely, ungainly,
+awkward. He wore a raccoon-skin cap, a linsey-woolsey shirt, and leather
+breeches, and was barefooted, although the weather was yet cool. He did
+not look like one who would ever cause the thrones of the world to lean
+and listen, or who would find in the Emperor of all the Russias the
+heart of a brother.</p>
+
+<p>"Abe," said Aunt Indiana, "the Tunker here has been speakin' well of
+you, though you don't deserve it. He just says as how you are goin' to
+be somebody, and make somethin' in the world. I hope you will, though
+you're a shaky tree to hang hopes on. I ain't got nothin' ag'in ye. He
+says that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> you'll become a leader among men. What do you think o' that,
+Abe? Don't stand there gawkin'. Come in and sit down."</p>
+
+<p>"It helps one to have some one believe in him," said the tall boy. "One
+tries to fulfill the good prophecies made about him. I wish I was
+good.&mdash;Thank ye, elder, for your good opinion. I wonder if I will ever
+make anything? I sometimes think I will. I look over toward mother's
+grave there, and think I will; but you can't tell. Crawford the
+schoolmaster he thinks good of me, but the other Crawford&mdash;Josiah&mdash;he's
+ag'in me. But if we do right, we'll all come out right."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my boy," said Jasper, "have faith that right is might. This is
+what the Voice and the Being within tells me to preach and to teach. Let
+us have faith that right is might, and do our duty, and the Spirit of
+God will give us a new nature, and make us new creatures, and the
+rebirth of the spiritual life into the eternal kingdom."</p>
+
+<p>The prairie winds breathed through the trees. A robin came and sang in
+the timber.</p>
+
+<p>The four sat thoughtful&mdash;the Tunker, the Indian, the pioneer woman, and
+the merry, sad-faced boy. It was a commonplace scene in the Indiana
+timber, and that one lonely grave is all that is left to recall such
+scenes to-day&mdash;the grave of the pioneer mother.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INDIAN RUNNER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The young May moon was hanging over the Mississippi on the evening when
+Jasper came to the village of the Sacs and Foxes. This royal town, the
+head residence of the two tribes, and the ancient burying-ground of the
+Indian race, was very beautifully situated at the junction of the Rock
+River with the Mississippi. The Father of Waters, which is in many
+places turbid and uninteresting, here becomes a clear and impetuous
+stream, flowing over beds of rock and gravel, amid high and wooded
+shores. The rapids&mdash;the water-ponies of the Indians&mdash;here come leaping
+down, surging and foaming, and are checked by monumental islands. The
+land rises from the river in slopes, like terraces, crowned with hills
+and patriarchal trees. From these hills the sight is glorious. On one
+hand rolls the mighty river, and on the other stretch vast prairies,
+flower-carpeted, sun-flooded, a sea of vegetation, the home of the
+prairie plover and countless nesters of the bright, warm air. It is a
+park, whose extent is bounded by hundreds of miles.</p>
+
+<p>Water-swept and beautiful lies Rock Island, where on a parapet of rock
+was built Fort Armstrong in the days of the later Indian troubles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The royal town and burying-ground was a place of remarkable fertility.
+The grape-vine tangled the near woods, the wild honeysuckle perfumed the
+air, and wild plums blossomed white in May and purpled with fruit in
+summer. If ever an Indian race loved a town, it was this. The Indian
+mind is poetic. Nature is the book of poetry to his instinct, and here
+Nature was poetic in all her moods.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians venerated the graves of their ancestors. Here they kept the
+graves beautiful, and often carried food to them and left it for the
+dead.</p>
+
+<p>The chant at these graves was tender, and shows that the human heart
+everywhere is the same. It was like this:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Where are you, my father?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, where are you now?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm longing to see thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'm wailing for thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i22">(Wail.)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Are you happy, my father?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are you happy now?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm longing to see thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'm wailing for thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i22">(Wail.)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Spring comes to the river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But where, then, art thou?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm longing to see thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'm wailing for thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i22">(Wail.)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The flowers come forever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll meet thee again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm longing to see thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Time bears me to thee!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i23">(Wail.)<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p>As Jasper ascended the high bluffs of the lodge where Black Hawk dwelt,
+he was followed by a number of Indians who came out of their houses of
+poles and bark, and greeted him in a kindly way. The dark chief met him
+at the door of the lodge.</p>
+
+<p>"You are welcome, my father. The new moon has bent her bow over the
+waters, and you have come back. You have kept your promise. I have kept
+mine. There is the boy."</p>
+
+<p>An Indian boy of lithe and graceful form came out of the lodge, followed
+by an old man, who was his uncle. The boy's name was Waubeno, and his
+uncle's was Main-Pogue. The latter had been an Indian runner in Canada,
+and an interpreter to the English there. He spoke English well. The boy
+Waubeno had been his companion in his long journeys, and, now that the
+interpreter was growing old, remained true to him. The three stood
+there, looking down on the long mirror of the Mississippi&mdash;Black Hawk,
+Main-Pogue, and Waubeno&mdash;and waiting for Jasper to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come to bring you peace," said Jasper&mdash;"not the silence of the
+hawk or the bow-string, but peace here."</p>
+
+<p>He laid his hand on his breast, and all the Indians did the same.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a man of peace," continued Jasper. "If any one should seek to slay
+me, I would not do him any harm. I would forgive him, and pray that his
+blindness might go from his soul, and that he might see a better life.
+You welcome me, you are true to me, and, whatever may happen, I will be
+true to your race."</p>
+
+<p>The black chief bowed, Main-Pogue, and the boy Waubeno.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I believe you," said Black Hawk. "Your face says 'yes' to your words.
+The Indian's heart is always true to a friend. Sit down; eat, smoke the
+peace-pipe, and let us talk. Sit down. The sky is clear, and the
+night-bird cries for joy on her wing. Let us all sit down and talk. The
+river rolls on forever by the graves of the braves of old. Let us sit
+down."</p>
+
+<p>The squaws brought Jasper some cakes and fish, and Black Hawk lighted
+some long pipes and gave them to Main-Pogue and Waubeno.</p>
+
+<p>"I have brought the boy here for you," said Black Hawk. "He comes of the
+blood of the brave. Let me tell you his story. It will shame the
+pale-face, but let me tell you the story. You will say that the Indian
+can be great, like the pale-face, when I tell you his story. It will
+smite your heart. Listen."</p>
+
+<p>A silence followed, during which a few puffs of smoke curled into the
+air from the black chief's pipe. He broke his narrative by such
+silences, designed to be impressive, and to offer an opportunity for
+thought on what had been said.</p>
+
+<p>Strange as it may seem to the reader, the story that follows is
+substantially true, and yet nothing in classic history or modern heroism
+can surpass in moral grandeur the tale that Black Hawk was always proud
+to tell:</p>
+
+<p>"Father, that is the boy. He knows all the ways from the Great Lakes to
+the long river, from the great hills to Kaskaskia. You can trust him; he
+knows the ways. Main-Pogue knows all the ways. Main-Pogue was a runner
+for the pale-face. He has taught him the ways. Their hearts are like one
+heart, Main-Pogue's and Waubeno's.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;">
+<img src="images/illus-144.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt="Black Hawk tells the Story of Waubeno." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Black Hawk tells the Story of Waubeno.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"His father is dead, Waubeno's. Main-Pogue has been a father to him.
+They would die for each other. Main-Pogue says that Waubeno may run with
+you, if I say that he may run. I say so. Main-Pogue and Waubeno are true
+to me.</p>
+
+<p>"The boy's father is dead, I said. Who was the father of that
+boy?&mdash;Waubeno, stand up."</p>
+
+<p>The boy arose, like a tall shadow. There was a silence, and Black Hawk
+puffed his pipe, then laid it beside his blanket.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was the father of Waubeno? He was a brave, a warrior. He wore the
+gray plume, and honor to him was more than life. He would not lie, and
+they put him to death. He was true as the stars, and they killed him."</p>
+
+<p>There followed another silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, you teach. You teach the head; you teach the heart: to live a
+true life, is the thing to teach&mdash;the thing you call conscience, soul,
+those are the right things to teach. What are books to the head, if the
+soul is not taught to be true?</p>
+
+<p>"Father, the father of Waubeno could teach the pale-face. In the head?
+No, in the heart? No, in the soul, which is the true book of the Great
+Spirit that you call God. You came to us to teach us God. It is good.
+You are a brother, but God came to us before. He has written the law of
+right in the soul of every man. The right will find the light. You teach
+the way&mdash;you bring the Word of him who died for mankind. It is good.
+I've got you a runner to run with you. It is good. You help the right to
+find the light.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, listen. I am about to speak. Before the great war with the
+British brother (1812) that boy's father struck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> down to the earth a
+pale-face who had done him wrong. The white man died. He who wrongs
+another does not deserve the sun. He died, and his soul went to the
+shadows. The British took the red warrior prisoner for killing this man
+who had wronged him. Waubeno was a little one then, when they took his
+father prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>"The British told the old warrior that they had condemned him to die.</p>
+
+<p>"'I am not afraid to die,' said the warrior. 'Let me go to the
+Ouisconsin (Wisconsin) and see my family once more, and whisper my last
+wish in the ear of my boy, and I will return to you and die. I will
+return at the sunrise.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You would never return,' said the commander of the stockade.</p>
+
+<p>"The warrior strode before him.</p>
+
+<p>"'Can a true man lie?'</p>
+
+<p>"The commander looked into his face, and saw his soul.</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, go,' said he. 'I would like to see an Indian who would come back
+to die.'</p>
+
+<p>"The warrior went home, under the stars. He told his squaw all. He had
+six little children, and he hugged them all. Waubeno was the oldest boy.
+He told him all, and pressed him to his heart. He whispered in his
+ear.&mdash;What was it he said, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>The shadowy form of the boy swayed in the dim light, as he answered. He
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Avenge my death! Honor my memory. The Great Spirit will teach you
+how.' That is what my father said to me, and I felt the beating of his
+heart."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was a deep silence. Then Black Hawk said:</p>
+
+<p>"The warrior looked down on the Ouisconsin under the stars. He looked up
+to heaven, and cried, 'Lead thou my boy!' Then he set his face toward
+the stockades of Prairie du Chien.</p>
+
+<p>"He strode across the prairie as the sun was rising; he arrived in time,
+and&mdash;Father, listen!"</p>
+
+<p>There was another silence, so deep that one might almost hear the
+puffing smoke as it rose on the air.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>They shot him!</i> That is his boy, Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper stood silent; he thought of Johnnie Kongapod's story, and the
+night-scene at Pigeon Creek.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall teach him a better way," said Jasper, at last. "I will lead him
+to honor the memory of his great father in a way that he does not now
+know. The Great Spirit will guide us both. His father was a great man. I
+will lead him to become a greater."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said the boy, coming forward, "I will always be true to you,
+but I have sworn by the stars."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper stood like one in a dream. Could such a tale as this be true
+among savages? Honor like this only needed the gospel teaching to do
+great deeds. Jasper saw his opportunity, and his love of mankind never
+glowed before as it did then. He folded his hands, closed his eyes, and
+his silent thoughts winged upward to the skies.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Jasper and Waubeno crossed the prairies to Lake Michigan. It was June,
+the high tide of the year. The long days poured their sunlight over the
+seas of flowers. The prairie winds were cool, and the new vegetation was
+alive with insects and birds.</p>
+
+<p>The first influence that Jasper tried to exert on Waubeno was to induce
+him to forego the fixed resolution to avenge his father's death.</p>
+
+<p>"The first thing in education," he used to say, "is conscience, the
+second is the heart, and the third is the head."</p>
+
+<p>He had planned to teach Waubeno while the Indian boy should be teaching
+him, and he wished to follow his own theory that a new pupil should
+first learn to be governed by his moral sense.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno," he said, in their long walk over the prairie, "I wish to
+teach you and make you wise, but before I can do you justice you must
+make a promise. Will you, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will. You would not ask me to do what is wrong."</p>
+
+<p>"It may be a hard thing, but, Waubeno, I wish you to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> promise me that
+you will never seek to avenge your father. Will you, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"Parable, I will promise you any right thing but that. I have made
+another promise about that thing&mdash;it must hold."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, I can not teach you as I would while you carry malice in your
+heart. The soul does not see clearly that is dark with evil. Do you see?
+I wish it for your good."</p>
+
+<p>"The white man punishes his enemies, does he not? Why should not I
+avenge a wrong? The white fathers at Malden" (the trade-post on Lake
+Erie) "avenge every wrong that is done them by the Indians, do they
+not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Christ died for his enemies. He forgave them, dying. You have heard."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why do his followers not do the same?"</p>
+
+<p>"They do."</p>
+
+<p>"I have never seen one who did."</p>
+
+<p>"Not one?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not one."</p>
+
+<p>"Then they are false to the cross. Waubeno, I love you. I am seeking
+your good. Trust me. I would make you any promise that I could. Make me
+this promise, and then we will be brothers. Your vow rises between us
+like a cloud."</p>
+
+<p>"Parable, listen. I will promise, on one condition."</p>
+
+<p>"What, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"You say that right is might, Parable?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>When I find a single white man who defends an Indian to his own hurt
+because it is right, I will promise.</i> I have known many white men who
+defended the Indian because they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> thought that it was good for them to
+do it&mdash;good for their pockets, good for their church, good for their
+souls in another world&mdash;but never one to his own harm, because it was
+right; listen, Parable&mdash;never one to his own harm because it was right.
+When I meet one&mdash;such a one&mdash;I will promise you what you ask. Parable,
+my folks did right because it was right."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, I once knew a boy who defended a turtle to his own harm,
+because it was right. The boys laughed at him, but his soul was true to
+the turtle."</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to meet that boy," Waubeno said. "He and I would be
+brothers. But I have never seen such a boy, Parable. I have never seen
+any man who had the worth of my own father, and, till I do, I shall hold
+to my vow to him! God heard that vow, and he shall see that I prove true
+to a man who died for the truth!"</p>
+
+<p>The two came in sight of blue Lake Michigan, where the old Jesuit
+explorer had had a vision of a great city; and where Point au Sable, the
+San Domingo negro, for a time settled, hoping to be made an Indian king.
+Here he found the hospitable roofs of John Kinzie, the pioneer of
+Chicago, the Romulus of the great mid-continent city, where storehouses
+abounded with peltries and furs.</p>
+
+<p>John Kinzie (the father of the famous John H. Kinzie) was a grand
+pioneer, like the Pilgrim Fathers of the elder day. He dealt honestly
+with the Indians, and won the hearts of the several tribes. He settled
+in Chicago in 1804, at which time a block-house was built by the
+Government as a frontier house or garrison. This frontier house stood
+near the present Rush Street Bridge. Mr. Kinzie's house stood on the
+north side of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> the Chicago River, opposite the fort. The storm-beaten
+block-house was to be seen in Chicago as late as 1857, and the place of
+Mr. Kinzie's home will ever be held as sacred ground. The frontier house
+was known as Fort Dearborn. A little settlement grew around the fort and
+the hospitable doors of Mr. Kinzie, until in 1830 it numbered twelve
+houses. Twelve houses in Chicago in 1830! Pass the bridge of sixty
+years, and lo! the rival city of the Western world, with its more than a
+million people&mdash;more than fulfilling the old missionary's dream!</p>
+
+<p>For twenty years John Kinzie was the only white man not connected with
+the garrison and trading-post who lived in northern Illinois. He was a
+witness of the Indian massacre of the troops in 1812, when he himself
+was driven from his home by the lake.</p>
+
+<p>He saw another and different scene in August, 1821&mdash;a scene worthy of a
+poet or painter&mdash;the Great Treaty, in which the Indian chiefs gave up
+most of their empire east of the Mississippi. There came to this
+decisive convocation the plumes of the Ottawas, Chippewas, and
+Pottawattamies. General Cass was there, and the old Indian agents. The
+chiefs brought with them their great warriors, their wives and children.
+There the prairie Indians made their last stand but one against the
+march of emigration to the Mississippi.</p>
+
+<p>Me-te-nay, the young orator of the Pottawattamies, was there, to make a
+poetic appeal for his race. But the counsels of the white chiefs were
+too persuasive and powerful. A treaty was concluded, which virtually
+gave up the Indian empire east of the Mississippi.</p>
+
+<p>Then the chiefs and the warriors departed, their red plumes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>
+disappearing over the prairie in the sunset light. Before them rolled
+the Mississippi. Behind them lay the blue seas of the lakes. It was a
+sorrowful procession that slowly faded away. Some twelve years after, in
+August, 1835, another treaty was concluded with the remaining tribes,
+and there occurred the last dance of the Pottawattamies on the grounds
+where the city of Chicago now stands.</p>
+
+<p>Five thousand Indians were present, and nearly one thousand joined in
+the dance. The latter assembled at the council-house, on the place where
+now is the northeast corner of North Water and Rush Streets, and where
+the Lake House stands. Their faces were painted in black and vermilion;
+their hair was gathered in scalp-locks on the tops of their heads, and
+was decorated with Indian plumes. They were led by drums and rattles.
+They marched in a dancing movement along the river, and stopped before
+each house to perform the grotesque figures of their ancient traditions.</p>
+
+<p>They seemed to be aware that this was their last gathering on the lake.
+The thought fired them. Says one who saw them:</p>
+
+<p>"Their eyes were wild and bloodshot. Their muscles stood out in great,
+hard knots, as if wrought to a tension that must burst them. Their
+tomahawks and clubs were thrown and brandished in every direction."</p>
+
+<p>The dance was carried on in a procession through the peaceful streets,
+and was concluded at Fort Dearborn in presence of the officers and
+soldiers of the garrison. It was the last great Indian gathering on the
+lake.</p>
+
+<p>A new civilization began in the vast empire of the inland<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> seas with the
+signing of the Treaty of Chicago and these concluding rites. Around the
+home of pastoral John Kinzie were to gather the new emigrations of the
+nations of the world, and the Queen City of the Lakes was to rise, and
+Progress to make the seat of her empire here. Never in the history of
+mankind did a city leap into life like this, which is now setting on her
+brow the crown of the Columbus domes.</p>
+
+<p>On the arrival of Jasper and Waubeno at Fort Dearborn, an incident
+occurred which affords a picture of the vanished days of the prairie
+chiefs and kings. There came riding up to the trading-houses a
+middle-aged chief named Shaubena.</p>
+
+<p>This chief may be said to have been the guardian spirit of the infant
+city of Chicago. He hovered around her for her good for a half-century,
+and was faithful to her interests from the first to the end of his long
+life. If ever an Indian merited a statue or an imperishable memorial in
+a great city, it is Shaubena.</p>
+
+<p>He was born about the year 1775, on the Kankakee River. His home was on
+a prairie island, as a growth of timber surrounded by a prairie used to
+be called. It was near the head-waters of Big Indian Creek, now in De
+Kalb County. This grove, or prairie island, still bears his name.</p>
+
+<p>Here were his corn-fields, his sugar-camps, his lodges, and his happy
+people. In his youth he had been employed by two Ottawa priests, or
+prophets, to instruct the people in the principles of their religion,
+and so he had traveled extensively in the land of the lakes, and spoke
+English well. The old Methodist circuit-riders used to visit him on his
+prairie island, and his family was brought under their influence and
+accepted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> their faith. When, in 1812, Indian runners from Tecumseh
+visited the tribal towns of the Illinois River to tell the warriors that
+war had been declared between the United States and England, and to
+counsel them to unite with the English, Shaubena endeavored to restrain
+his people from such a course, and to prevent a union of the tribes
+against the American settlers. When he found that the Indians were
+marching against Chicago, he followed them on his pony.</p>
+
+<p>He arrived too late. A scene of blood met his eyes. Along the lake,
+where the blue waves rolled in the sun, lay forty-two dead bodies, the
+remains of white soldiers, women, and children. These bodies lay on the
+prairie for four years, until the rebuilding of Fort Dearborn in 1816,
+with the exception of the mutilated remains of Captain Wells, which
+Black Partridge buried.</p>
+
+<p>John Kinzie and his family had been saved, largely by the influence of
+Shaubena. Black Partridge summoned his warriors to protect the house.
+Shaubena rushed up to the porch-steps and set his rifle across the
+doorway. The rooms were occupied by Mrs. Kinzie, her children, and Mrs.
+Helm. A party of excited Indians rushed upon the place and forced their
+way into the house, to kill the women. The intended massacre was delayed
+by the friendly Indians.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time a half-breed girl, who had been employed by good John
+Kinzie, and who was devoted to his family, had stolen across the prairie
+to Sauganash, or Billy Caldwell, the friendly chief. This warrior seized
+his canoe and came paddling down the waters, plumed with eagle-feathers,
+with a rifle in his hand. He rose up in his canoe, in the dark, as he
+came to the shore.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" asked Black Partridge.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Sauganash."</p>
+
+<p>"Then save your white friends. You only can save them."</p>
+
+<p>The chief came to the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Go!" he said to the Indians. "I am Sauganash!"</p>
+
+<p>John Kinzie was not only ever after grateful to Sauganash and the
+half-breed girl for what they had done to save him and his family, but
+he saw that he had found a faithful heart in Shaubena. So when, to-day,
+Shaubena came riding up to his door from his prairie island on his
+little pony, he said, heartily:</p>
+
+<p>"Shaubena, thou art welcome!"</p>
+
+<p>Jasper and Waubeno joined John Kinzie and the prairie chief.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou, too art welcome," said John Kinzie. "Whence do you come?"</p>
+
+<p>Jasper told again his simple story: how that he was a Tunker, traveling
+to preach to every one, and to hold schools among the Indians; how that
+he had been to Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide, and how Black
+Hawk had sent out Waubeno as his companion.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper and Waubeno built a cabin of logs, bark, and bushes, in view of
+the lake, a little distance above the fort. They spent several days on
+the rude structure.</p>
+
+<p>"There are many Indian children who come to the trading-post," said
+Jasper, "and I may be able to begin here my first Indian school. You
+will do all you can for me, will you not, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"Parable, listen! You love my people, and I will do all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> that this arm,
+this heart, and this head can do for you. Whatever may happen, I will be
+true to you. If it costs my life, I will be true to you! You may have my
+life. Do you not believe Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I believe you, Waubeno. You hold honor dearer than life. You say
+that I love your people. You know that I would do right by your people,
+to my own harm. Then why will you not make to me the promise I sought
+from you on the prairie?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not seen you tried. We know not any one until he is tried. My
+father was tried. He was true. I would talk with the boy that was
+laughed at for defending the turtle. He was tried. He did right because
+it was right. We will know each other better by and by. But Waubeno will
+always be true to you while you are true to Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>The school opened in the new cabin about the time that the troops were
+withdrawn from the fort and the place left in the charge of the Indian
+agent. Waubeno was the teacher, and Jasper his only pupil. After a time
+Jasper secured a few pupils from the post-trading Indians. But these
+remained but for a short time. They did not like the confinement of
+instruction.</p>
+
+<p>One day a striking event occurred. The Indian agent came to visit the
+school. He was interested in the Indian boys, and especially in the
+progress of Waubeno, who was quick to learn. Before leaving, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I have a medal in my hand. It was given to me by the general of
+Michigan. On one side of it is the Father of his Country&mdash;see him with
+his sword&mdash;Washington, the immortal Washington."</p>
+
+<p>He held up the medal and paused.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"On the other side is an Indian chief. He is burying his hatchet. I was
+given the medal as a reward, and I will give it at the end of three
+weeks to the boy in this school who best learns his lessons. Jasper
+shall decide who it shall be."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you have said that," said Jasper. "That is the education of
+good-will. I am glad."</p>
+
+<p>The Indian boys studied well, but Waubeno excelled them all. At the end
+of three weeks the Indian agent again appeared, and Jasper hoped to gain
+the heart of Waubeno by the award of the medal.</p>
+
+<p>"To whom shall I give the medal?" asked the agent, at the end of the
+visit.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper looked at his boy.</p>
+
+<p>"It has been won by Waubeno," said Jasper. "I would be unjust not to say
+that all have been faithful, but Waubeno has been the most faithful of
+all."</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno sat like a statue. He did not lift his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno," said the agent, "you have heard what your teacher has said.
+The medal is yours. Here it is. You have reason to be proud of it.
+Waubeno, arise."</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno arose. The agent held out the medal to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you let me look at the medal?" said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>The medal was handed to him. He examined it. He did not smile, or show
+any emotion. His look was indifferent and stoical. What was passing in
+his mind?</p>
+
+<p>"The Indian chief is burying his hatchet, in the picture on this side of
+the medal," he said, slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the Indian agent, "he is a good chief."</p>
+
+<p>"The picture on this side represents Washington, you say?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;Washington, the Father of his Country."</p>
+
+<p>"He has a sword by his side, general, has he not? See."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Waubeno, he has a sword by his side."</p>
+
+<p>"He is a good chief, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why does he not bury his sword? I do not want the medal. What is
+good for the red chief should be as good for the white chief. I would be
+unlike my father to take a mean thing like that."</p>
+
+<p>He stood like a statue, with curled lip and a fiery eye. The agent
+looked queerly at Jasper. He had nothing more to say. He took back the
+medal and went away. When he had gone, Waubeno said to Jasper:</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon, brother; <i>he</i> is not <i>the</i> man&mdash;my promise to my father holds.
+They teach well, but they do not do well: it is the doing that speaks to
+the heart. The chief that buried his hatchet is a plumb fool, else the
+white chief would do so too. I have spoken!"</p>
+
+<p>He sat down in silence and looked out upon the lake, on which the waves
+were breaking into foam in the purple distances. His face had an injured
+look, and his eyes glowed.</p>
+
+<p>He arose at last and raised his hand, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"I will pay them all some day!&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned to Jasper and marked his disappointed face, and added:</p>
+
+<p>"I will be true to you. Waubeno will be true to you."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One morning, as Jasper threw aside the curtain of skins that answered
+for a door to his cabin, a strange sight met his eyes. In the clearing
+between the cabin and the lake stood the tall form of an Indian. It was
+the most noble and beautiful form that he had ever seen, and the
+Indian's face and hands were white.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper stood silent. The white Indian bent his eyes upon him, and the
+two looked in surprise at each other.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian's eyes were dark, and like the eyes of the native races; but
+his nose was Roman, and his skin English, with a slight brown tinge. His
+hair was long and curly, and tinged with brown.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno," said Jasper, "who is that?"</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno came to the entrance of the cabin, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"The white Indian. <i>They</i> bring good. Speak to him. It is a good sign."</p>
+
+<p>"They?" said Jasper. "I never knew that there were white Indians,
+Waubeno. Where do they live? Where do they come from?"</p>
+
+<p>"From the Great River. They come and go, and come and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> go, and they are
+unlike other Indians. They know things that other Indians do not know.
+They have a book that talks to them. It came from heaven."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper stepped out on to the clearing, and Waubeno followed him. The
+white Indian awaited their approach.</p>
+
+<p>"Welcome, stranger," said Jasper. "Where are you journeying from?"</p>
+
+<p>"From the Great River (Mississippi) to the land of the lakes. They are
+coming, coming, my brothers from over the sea, as the prophet said. I
+have not seen you here before. I am glad that you have come."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you live?" asked Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"My tribe is few, and they wander. They wander till the brothers come.
+We are not like other people here, though all the tribes treat us well
+and give us food and shelter. We are wanderers. We have lived in the
+country many years, and we have often visited Kaskaskia. You will hear
+of us there. When the French came, we thought they were brothers. Then
+the English came, and we felt that they were brothers. The white people
+are our brothers."</p>
+
+<p>"Come in," said Jasper, "and breakfast with us. You are strange to me. I
+never heard of you. You seem like a visitant from another world. Tell
+me, my brother, how came you to be white?"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, stranger, but I ask you the same question, How came
+you to be white? The same Power that made your face like the cloud and
+the snow, made mine the same. There is kindred blood in our veins, but I
+know not how it is&mdash;we do not know. Our ancestors had a book that told
+us of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> God, but it was lost when the French raised the cross at
+Kaskaskia. We had a legend of the cross, and of armies marching under
+the cross, and when the bell began to ring over the praise house there,
+we found that we, too, had ancient tales of the bell. More I can not
+tell. All the tribes welcome us, and we belong to all the tribes, and we
+have wandered for years and years. Our fathers wandered."</p>
+
+<p>"This is all very strange," said Jasper. "Tell us more."</p>
+
+<p>"I expected your coming," said the white Indian. "I was not surprised to
+see you here. I expected you. I knew it. There are more white brothers
+to come&mdash;many. Let me tell you about it all.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a prophet once. He said that we came from over the sea, and that
+we would never return, but that we must wander and wander, and that one
+day our white brothers would come from over the sea to us. They are
+coming; their white wagons are crossing the plains. Every day they are
+coming. I love to see them come and pass. The prophet spoke true.</p>
+
+<p>"The French say that we came from a far-away land called Wales. The
+French say that a voyager, whose name was Modoc, set sail for the West
+eight hundred years ago, and was never heard of again in his own land;
+that his ships drifted West, and brought our fathers here. That is what
+the French say. I do not know, but I think that you and I are brothers.
+I feel it in my heart. You have treated me like a brother, and I kiss
+you in my heart. I love the English. They are my friends. I am going to
+Malden. There will be more white faces here when I come again."</p>
+
+<p>He took breakfast in the cabin, and went away. Jasper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> hardly
+comprehended the visit. He sought the Indian agent, and described to him
+the appearance of the wandering stranger, and related the story that the
+man had told.</p>
+
+<p>"There are white crows, white blackbirds, white squirrels, and white
+Indians," said the agent, "strange as it may seem. I know nothing about
+the origin of any of them&mdash;only that they do exist. Ever since the
+French and Indians came to the lakes white Indians have been seen. So
+have white crows and blackbirds. The French claim that these white
+Indians are of Welsh origin, and are the descendants of a body of
+mariners who were driven to our shores in the twelfth century by some
+accident of navigation or of weather. If so, the Welsh are the second
+discoverers of America, following the Northmen. But I put no faith in
+these traditions. I only know that from time to time a white-faced
+Indian is seen in the Mississippi Valley. There are many tales and
+traditions of them. It is simply a mystery that will never be solved."</p>
+
+<p>"But what am I to think of the white Indian's story?"</p>
+
+<p>"Simply that he had been taught by the French romancers, and that he
+believed it himself. Black faces have strangely appeared among white
+peoples, and Nature alone, could she speak, could explain her laws in
+these cases. The Indians have various traditions of the white Indian's
+appearance in the regions about Chicago; they regard him as a
+medicine-man, or a prophet, or a kind of good ghost. It is thought to be
+good fortune to meet him."</p>
+
+<p>"Why does he come here?" said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"To see the white people. He believes that the white people are his
+kindred, and that they are coming, 'coming,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> and one day that they will
+flock here in multitudes. The French have told him this. He is a
+mythical character. Somehow he has white blood in his veins. I can not
+tell how. The Welsh tradition may be true, but it is hardly probable."</p>
+
+<p>Years passed. The white Indian appeared again. The fort had become a
+town. The Indian races were disappearing. He saw the white wagons
+crossing the prairies, and the reluctant Pottawattomies making their way
+toward the Great River and the lands of the sunset. He went away,
+solitary as when he came, and was never seen again.</p>
+
+<p>Who may have been these mysterious persons whose white faces for
+generations haunted the lakes and the plains? They appeared at
+Kaskaskia, their canoes glided mysteriously along the Mississippi, and
+they were often seen at the hunting-camps of the North. They sought the
+French and the English as soon as these races began to make settlements,
+and they seemed to be strangely familiar with English tones, sounds, and
+words.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper loved to look out from his cabin on the blue lake, and to dream
+of the old scenes of the Prussian war, of K&ouml;rner, Von Weber, of
+Pestalozzi, and his friend Froebel, and contrast them with the rude new
+life around him. The past was there, but the future was here, and here
+was his work for the future. It is not what a man has that makes him
+happy, but what he is; not his present state, but the horizon of the
+future around him that imparts glow to life, and Jasper was at peace
+with himself in the sense of doing his duty. Heaven to him was bright
+with the smile of God, and he longed no more for the rose-gardens of
+Marienthal or the castles of the Rhine.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The appearance of the white Indian filled the mind of Waubeno with pride
+and hope.</p>
+
+<p>"We will be happy now," he said. "You will be happy now; nothing happens
+to them who see the white Indian; all goes well. I know that you are
+good within, else he would not come; only they whose beings within are
+good see the white Indian, and he brings bright suns and moons and
+calumets of peace, and so the days go on forever. I now know that you
+speak true. And Waubeno has seen him; he will do well; he has seen the
+white crow among the black crows, and he will do well. Happy moons await
+Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>The lake was glorious in these midsummer days. The prairie roses hung
+from the old trees in the groves, and the air rang with the joyful notes
+of the lark and plover. Indians came to the fort and went away.
+Pottawattomies encamped near the place and visited the agency, and white
+traders occasionally appeared here from Malden and Fort Wayne.</p>
+
+<p>But these were uneventful days of Fort Dearborn. The stories of Mrs.
+John Kinzie are among the most interesting memories of these days of
+general silence and monotony. The old Kinzie house was situated where is
+now the junction of Pine and North Water Streets. The grounds sloped
+toward the banks of the river. It had a broad piazza looking south, and
+before it lay a green lawn shaded by Lombardy poplars and a cottonwood
+tree. Across the river rose Fort Dearborn, amid groves of locust trees,
+the national flag blooming, as it were, above it.</p>
+
+<p>The cottonwood tree in the yard was planted by John Kinzie,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> and lived
+until Chicago became a great city, in Long John Wentworth's day.</p>
+
+<p>The old residents of Chicago will ever recall the beauty of the outlook
+from the south piazza. At the dull period of the agency, only an Indian
+canoe, perhaps from Mackinaw, disturbed the peace of the river.</p>
+
+<p>It was on this piazza that on a June morning was heard the chorus of
+Moore's Canadian Boat Song on the Chicago River, and here General Lewis
+Cass presently appeared. The great men of the New West often gathered
+here after that. Here the best stories of the lake used to be told by
+voyagers, and Mark Beaubien, we may well suppose, often played his
+violin.</p>
+
+<p>The scene of the lake and river from the place was changed by moonlight
+into romance.</p>
+
+<p>Amid such scenes the old Chief Shaubena related the legends of the
+tribes, and Mrs. Kinzie the thrilling episodes of the massacre of 1812.
+Jasper, we may imagine, joined the company, with the beautiful spiritual
+tales of the Rhine, and Waubeno added his delightful wonder-tale of the
+white Indian, whose feet brought good fortune. No one then dreamed that
+John Kinzie's home stood for two millions of people who would come there
+before the century should close, or that the cool cottonwood tree would
+throw its shade over some of the grandest scenes in the march of the
+world.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>LAFAYETTE AT KASKASKIA&mdash;THE STATELY MINUET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Jasper made the best use of the story-telling method of influence in his
+school in the little cabin on the lake near Chicago River. He sought to
+impart moral ideas by the old Roman fables and German folk-lore stories.
+He often told the tale of the poor girl who went out for a few drops of
+water for her dying mother, in the water famine, and how her dipper was
+changed into silver, gold, and diamonds, as she shared the water with
+the sufferers on her return. But neither &AElig;sop nor fairy lore so
+influenced the Indian boys as his story of the Indiana boy who defended
+the turtles and pitied the turtle with the broken shell.</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to meet him," said Waubeno, one day when the story had
+been told. "What is his name, Parable? What do you call him by?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln," said Jasper, "Abraham Lincoln."</p>
+
+<p>"Where does he live, Parable?"</p>
+
+<p>"On Pigeon Creek, in Indiana."</p>
+
+<p>"Is the place far away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, very far away by water, and a hard journey by land. Pigeon Creek
+is far away, near the Ohio River; south, Waubeno&mdash;far away to the
+south."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Will you ever go there again?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I hope to go there again, and to take you along with me," said
+Jasper. "I have planned to go down the Illinois in the spring, in a
+canoe, to the Mississippi, and down the Mississippi to the Ohio, and
+visit Kaskaskia, and thence along the Ohio to the Wabash, and to the
+home where the boy lives who defended the turtles. It will be a long
+journey, and I expect to stop at many places, and preach and teach and
+form schools. I want you to go with me and guide my canoe. All these
+rivers are beautiful in summer. They are shaded by trees, and run
+through prairies of flowers. The waters are calm, and the skies are
+bright, and the birds sing continually. O Waubeno, this is a beautiful
+world to those who use it rightly&mdash;a beautiful, beautiful world!"</p>
+
+<p>"Me will go," said Waubeno. "Me would see that boy. I want to see a
+story boy, as you say."</p>
+
+<p>The attempt to establish an Indian school on the Chicago was not wholly
+successful. The pupils did not remain long enough to receive the
+intended influence. They came from encampments that were never stable.
+The Indian village was there one season, and gone the next. The Indians
+who came in canoes to the agency soon went away again. Jasper, in the
+spring of 1825, resolved to carry out the journey that he had described
+to Waubeno, and with the first warm winds he and the Indian boy set out
+for Kaskaskia by the way of the Illinois to the Mississippi, and by the
+Mississippi to the Kaskaskia.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long journey. Jasper stopped often at the Indian encampments
+and the new settlements. Waubeno was a faithful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> friend, and he came to
+love him for true-heartedness, sympathy, and native worth of soul. He
+often tried to teach him by stories, but as often as he said, "Now,
+Waubeno, we will talk," he would say, "Tell me the one with broken
+shell"&mdash;meaning the story. There was some meaning behind this story of
+the turtle with the broken shell that had completely won the heart of
+Waubeno. The boy Abraham Lincoln was his hero. Again and again, after he
+had listened to the simple narrative, he asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Is the story boy alive?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>"And we will meet him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"That is good. I feel for him here," and he would lay his hand on his
+heart. "I love the story boy."</p>
+
+<p>They traveled slowly. After a long journey down the Illinois, the
+Mississippi rolled before them in the full tides of early spring. They
+passed St. Louis, and one late April evening found them before the once
+royal town of Kaskaskia.</p>
+
+<p>The bell was ringing as they landed, the bell that had been cast in fair
+Rochelle, and that was the first bell to ring between the Alleghanies
+and the Mississippi. Most of the black-robed missionaries were gone, as
+had the high-born French officers, with their horses, sabers, and
+banner-plumes, who once sought treasure and fame in this grand town of
+the Mississippi Valley. The Bourbon lilies had fallen from old Fort
+Chartres a generation ago, and the British cross had come down, and
+to-day all the houses, new and old, were decked with the stars and
+stripes. It was not a holiday. What did it mean?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Jasper and Waubeno entered the old French town, and gazed at the brick
+buildings, the antique roofs, the high dormer windows, and the faded
+houses of by-gone priest and nun. The tavern was covered with flags,
+French and American, as were the grand house of William Morrison and the
+beautiful Edgar mansion. The house once occupied by the French
+commandant was wrapped in the national colors. It had been the first
+State House of Illinois. A hundred years before&mdash;just one hundred
+years&mdash;Kaskaskia Commons had received its grand name from his most
+Christian Majesty Louis XV, and it then seemed likely to become the
+capital of the French mid-continent empire in the New World. The Jesuits
+flocked here, zealous for the conversion of the Indian races. Here came
+men of rank and military glory, and Fort Chartres rose near it, grand
+and powerful as if to awe the world. But there was a foe in the fort of
+the French heart, and the boundless empire faded, and the old French
+town went to the American pioneer, and the fort became a ruin, like
+Louisburg at Cape Breton.</p>
+
+<p>As Jasper and Waubeno passed along the broad streets they noticed that
+the town was filled with country people, and that there were Indians
+among them.</p>
+
+<p>One of these Indians approached Waubeno, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"She&mdash;yonder&mdash;see&mdash;Mary Panisciowa&mdash;daughter of the Great Chief&mdash;Mary
+Panisciowa."</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno followed with his eye the daughter of the Chief of the Six
+Nations. He went forward with the crowd and came to the house that she
+was making her home, and asked to meet her. Jasper had followed him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They turned aside from the street, which was full of excited
+people&mdash;excited Jasper knew not why. The door of the house where Mary
+Panisciowa was visiting stood open, and they were asked to enter.</p>
+
+<p>She looked a queen, yet she had the graces of the English and French
+people. She was a most accomplished woman. She spoke both English and
+French readily, her education having been conducted by an American agent
+to whom she had been commended by her father.</p>
+
+<p>"This is good news," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"What?" said Jasper. "Good news comes from God. Yet all events are news
+from heaven. The people seem greatly exercised. What has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lafayette, the great Lafayette&mdash;have you not heard?&mdash;the marquis&mdash;he is
+on his way to Kaskaskia, and that is why I am here. My father fought
+under him, and the general sent him a letter thanking him for his
+services in the American cause. It was written forty years ago. I have
+brought it. I hope to meet him. Would you like to see it?&mdash;a letter from
+the great Lafayette."</p>
+
+<p>Mary Panisciowa took from her bosom a faded letter, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"My father fought for the new people, and I have taken up their religion
+and customs. I suppose that you have done the same," she said to
+Waubeno.</p>
+
+<p>"No; that can not be, for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why? I supposed that you were a Christian, as you travel with the
+Tunker."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mary Panisciowa knows how my father died. I am his son. I swore to be
+true to his name. The Tunker says that I must forswear myself to become
+a Christian. That I shall never do. I respect the teachings of your new
+religion, and I love the Tunker and shall always be true to him, but I
+shall be true to the memory of my father. Mary Panisciowa, think how he
+died, and of the men who killed him. They claimed to be Christians.
+Think of that! I am not a Christian. Mary Panisciowa, there is a spot
+that burns in my heart. I do not dissemble. I do not deceive. But that
+fire will burn there till I have kept my vow, and I shall do it."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno," said the woman, "listen to better counsels. Revenge only
+spreads the fires of evil. Forgiveness quenches them.&mdash;That is a noble
+letter," she said to Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a noble letter, and the marquis is an apostle of human liberty, a
+friend of all men everywhere. What brings him here?"</p>
+
+<p>"The old French and new English families. His visit is unexpected. The
+people can not receive him as they ought to, but he is to dine at the
+tavern, and there are to be two grand receptions at the great houses,
+one at Mr. Edgar's. I wish I could see him and show him this letter. I
+shall try. But they have not invited me. They are proud people, and they
+will not invite me; but I shall try to see him. It would be the happiest
+hour of my life if I could take the hand of the great Lafayette."</p>
+
+<p>Mary Panisciowa was thrilled with her desire to meet General Lafayette.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cannons boomed, drums and fifes played, and all the people hurried
+toward the landing. The marquis came in the steamer Natchez from St.
+Louis. When Mary Panisciowa heard the old bell ringing she knew that the
+marquis was coming, and she hid the faded old letter in her bosom and
+wept. She sent a messenger to the tavern, who asked Lafayette if he
+would meet the daughter of Panisciowa, and receive a message from her.</p>
+
+<p>Just at night she looked out of the door, and saw an officer in uniform
+and a party of her own people coming toward the house. The officer
+appeared before the door, touched his head and bowed, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Mary Panisciowa, I am told."</p>
+
+<p>"My father was Panisciowa."</p>
+
+<p>"He fought under General Lafayette?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he fought under Lafayette, and I have a letter from the general
+here, written to him more than forty years ago. Will you read it?"</p>
+
+<p>The officer took the letter, read it, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"You should meet the general."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind, sir. I want to meet him; but how? There is to be a
+reception at the Morrisons, but I am not invited. The Governor is to be
+there. But they would not invite me."</p>
+
+<p>"Come to the reception at the Morrisons. I will be responsible. The
+marquis will welcome you. He is a gentleman. To say that a man is a
+gentleman, is to cover all right conduct. Bring your letter, and he will
+receive you. I will speak to Governor Coles about you. You will come?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"May my friend Waubeno come with me? I am the daughter of a chief, and
+he is the son of a warrior. It would be befitting that we should come
+together. I wish that he might see the great Lafayette."</p>
+
+<p>"As you like," said the officer, hurrying away with uncovered head.</p>
+
+<p>Mary Panisciowa prepared to go to the grand reception. Early in the
+evening she and Waubeno, followed by Jasper, came up to the Morrison
+mansion, where a kind of court reception was to be held.</p>
+
+<p>The streets were full of people. The houses were everywhere illuminated,
+and people were hurrying to and fro, or listening to the music in the
+hall.</p>
+
+<p>Lafayette was now nearly threescore and ten years of age, the beloved
+hero of France and America, and the leader of human liberty in all
+lands. He had left Havre on July 12th, 1824, and had arrived in New York
+on the 15th of August. He was accompanied by his son, George Washington
+Lafayette, and his private secretary, M. Levasseur. His passage through
+the country had been a triumphal procession, under continuous arches of
+flags, evergreens, and flowers, bearing the words, "Welcome, Lafayette."
+Forty years had passed since he was last in America. The thirteen States
+had become twenty-four. He had visited Joseph Bonaparte, the grave of
+Washington, and the battle-field of Yorktown. His reception in the South
+had been an outpouring of hearts. And now he had turned aside from the
+great Mississippi to see Kaskaskia, the romantic town of the vanished
+French empire of the Mississippi.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mary and Waubeno waited outside of the door. The Indian woman listened
+for a time to the gay music, and watched the bright uniforms as they
+passed to and fro under the glittering astrals. At last an American
+officer came down the steps, lifted his hat, and said to the two Indians
+and to Jasper:</p>
+
+<p>"Follow me."</p>
+
+<p>Lafayette had already received the public men of the place. Airy music
+arose, and the officials and their wives and guests were going through
+the form of the old court minuet.</p>
+
+<p>The music of Mozart's Don Giovanni minuet has been heard in a thousand
+halls of state and at the festivals of many lands. We may imagine the
+charm that such music had here, in this oaken room of the forest and
+prairie. At the head of the plumed ladies and men in glittering uniforms
+stood the Marquis of France, whom the world delighted to honor, and led
+the stately obeisances to the picturesque movement of the music under
+the flags and astrals. A remnant of the old romantic French families
+were there, soldiers of the Revolution, the leaders of the new order of
+American life, Governor Coles and his officers, and rich traders of St.
+Louis. As the music swayed these stately forms backward and forward with
+the fascinating poetry of motion that can hardly be called a dance, the
+two Indian faces caught the spirit of the scene. Waubeno had never heard
+the music of the minuet before, and the strains entranced him as they
+rose and fell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>Minuet from Don Giovanni.</h3>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Mozart. Arr. by Carl Erich.</span></h3>
+
+<h4>Published by the permission of Arthur P. Schmidt.</h4>
+
+<h5>Copyright, 1880, by Carl Pr&uuml;fer.</h5>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus-176.jpg" width="400" height="472" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus-177.jpg" width="400" height="557" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus-178.jpg" width="400" height="541" alt="" title="" />
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;">
+<img src="images/illus-179.jpg" width="392" height="551" alt="" title="" />
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus-180.jpg" width="400" height="273" alt="" title="" />
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<p>After the minuet, Lafayette and Governor Coles received the
+towns-people, and among the first to be presented to the marquis was
+Mary Panisciowa.</p>
+
+<p>She bowed modestly, and told him her simple tale. The marquis listened
+at first with courtly interest, then with profound emotion. She drew
+from her bosom the letter that he had written to her father, the chief.
+His own writing brought before him the scenes of almost a half-century
+gone, the struggle for liberty in the new land to which he had given his
+young soul. He remembered the old chief, and the forest scenes of those
+heroic years; Washington, and the generals he had loved, most of whom
+were gone, arose again. His heart filled with emotion, and he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing in my visit here has affected me so much as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> this. I thank you
+for seeking me. I welcome you with all my heart. Let me spend as much
+time as I may in your company. Your father was a hero, and your presence
+fills my heart with no common pleasure and delight. Stay with me."</p>
+
+<p>The marquis welcomed Waubeno cordially, and expressed his pleasure at
+meeting him here. At the romantic festival no people were more warmly
+met than the chief's daughter and her escort.</p>
+
+<p>"The French have always been true to the Indians," said Waubeno, on
+leaving the general, "and the Indians have been as true to the French."</p>
+
+<p>"Never did rulers have better subjects," said the general.</p>
+
+<p>"Never did subjects have better rulers," said Waubeno, almost repeating
+the scene of Dick Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London, by virtue of
+his wonderful cat, to King Henry.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians withdrew amid the gay strains of national music, the stately
+minuet haunting Waubeno and ringing in his ears.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to hum the rhythms of the beautiful air of the courts. Jasper
+saw how the music had affected him, and that he was happy and
+susceptible, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, you have met a man to-night who would forget his own position
+and pleasure to do honor to the Indian girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am sure of that."</p>
+
+<p>"You are your best self to-night&mdash;in your best mood; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> music has
+awakened your better soul. You remember your promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but, Brother Jasper&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lafayette is a <i>Frenchman</i>, and&mdash;a gentleman. The Indians and French do
+not spill each other's blood. Why?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One leafy afternoon in May, Jasper and Waubeno came to Aunt Olive's, at
+Pigeon Creek. Southern Indiana is a glory of sunshine and flowers at
+this season of the year, and their journey had been a very pleasant one.</p>
+
+<p>They had met emigrants on the Ohio, and had seen the white sail of the
+prairie schooner in all of the forest ways.</p>
+
+<p>"The world seems moving to the west," said Jasper, "as in the white
+Indian's dream. There is need of my work more and more. Every child that
+I can teach to read will make better this new empire that is being
+sifted out of the lands. Every school that I can found is likely to
+become a college, and I am glad to be a wanderer in the wilderness for
+the sake of my fellow-men."</p>
+
+<p>In the open door, under the leafing vines, stood Aunt Indiana, in cap,
+wig, and spectacles. She arched her elbow over all to shade her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"The old Tunker, as I live, come again, and brought his Indian boy with
+him!" said she. "Well, you are welcome to Pigeon Creek. You left a sight
+of good thoughts here when you were here before. You're a good pitcher,
+if you are a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> cracked, with the handle all one side. Come in, and
+welcome. Take a chair and sit down&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">''Tis a long time since I see you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How does your wife and children do?'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>as the poet sings."</p>
+
+<p>"I am well, and am glad to be toiling for the bread that does not fail
+in the wilderness. How are the people of Pigeon Creek&mdash;how are my good
+friends the Lincolns?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Linkens? Well, Tom Linken makes out to hold together after a
+fashion&mdash;all dreams and expectations. 'The thing that hath been is,' the
+Scriptur' says, and Thomas Linken <i>is</i>&mdash;just as he always was, and
+always will be to the end of the chapter. He's got to the p'int after
+which there is no more to be told, long ago. The life of such as he
+repeats itself over and over, like a buzzin' spinnin'-wheel. And <i>Miss</i>
+Linken, she is as patient as ever; 'tis her mission just to be patient
+with old Tom."</p>
+
+<p>"And Abraham?"</p>
+
+<p>"That boy Abe&mdash;the one that we prophesied about! Well, elder, I do hate
+to say, 'cause it makes you out to be no prophet, and you mean well,
+goin' about tryin' to get a little larnin' into the skulls of the people
+in this new country; but that boy promises pretty slim, though I ain't
+nothin' to say agin' him. In the first place, he's grown up to be a
+giant, all legs and ears, mouth and eyes. Why, he is the tallest young
+man in this part of Indiana!</p>
+
+<p>"Then, his head's off. He goes about readin' books, just as he did when
+you were here last&mdash;this book, and that book, and the other book; and
+then he all runs to talk, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> some folks takes for wisdom. He tells
+stories that makes everybody laugh, and he seems very chipper and happy,
+but they do say that he has melancholy spells, and is all down in the
+mouth at times. But he's good-hearted, and speaks the truth, and helps
+poor folks, and there's many a wuss one than Abraham Linken now. They
+didn't invite him to the great weddin' of the Grigsbys, cos he's so
+homely, and hadn't anythin' to wear but leather breeches, and they only
+come down a little below his knees. Queer-lookin' he'd 'a' been to a
+weddin'!</p>
+
+<p>"He felt orful bad at not bein' invited, and made some poetry about 'em.
+When I feel poetic I talk prose, and give people as good as they send. I
+don't write no poetry.</p>
+
+<p>"You are welcome to stay here, elder. You needn't go to the Linkens'. I
+have a prophet's chamber in my house&mdash;though you ain't a prophet&mdash;and
+you can always sleep there, and your Indian boy can lay down in the
+kitchen; and I can cook, elder&mdash;now you know that&mdash;and I won't ask ye to
+cobble; your time is too valuable for that."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper, who was not greatly influenced by Aunt Indiana's unfavorable
+views of her poor neighbor, went to see Thomas Lincoln. Waubeno went
+with him. Here the young Indian met with a hearty greeting from both Mr.
+and Mrs. Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad that you have come again," said poor Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper.
+"You comforted me and encouraged me when you were here last. I want to
+talk with you. Abe has all grown up, and wants to make a new start in
+life; and I wish to see him started right. There's so much in gettin'
+started right; a right start is all the way, sometimes. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> don't travel
+twice over the same years. I want you to talk with him. You have seen
+this world, and we haven't, but you kind o' brought the world to us when
+you were here last. Elder, you don't know how much good you are doin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Abraham?" asked Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"He's gone to the store for the evenin'. He's been keepin' store for
+Jones, in Gentryville, and he spends his evenin's there. There ain't
+many places to go to around here, and Abe he's turned the store into a
+kind of debatin' club. He speaks pieces there. There's goin' to be a
+debate there to-night. He's great on debatin'. I do hope you'll go. The
+subject of the debate to-night is, 'Which has the greater cause for
+complaint, the negro or the Indian?'"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm goin' over to the store to-night myself, elder," said Thomas
+Lincoln. "You must go along with me and hear Abraham talk, and then come
+back and spend the night here. The old woman has been hopin' that you
+would come. It pleased her mightily, what you said good about Abraham
+when you was here last. She sets her eyes by Abraham, and he does by
+her. Abraham and I don't get along none too well. The fact is, he all
+runs to books, and is kind o' queer. He takes after his mother's
+folks&mdash;they all had houses in the air, and lived in 'em. Abe might make
+somethin'; there's somethin' in him, if larnin' don't spile him. I have
+to warn him against larnin' all the time, but it all goes agin the
+grain, and I declare sometimes I do get all out of patience, and clean
+discouraged. Why, elder, he even takes a book out when he goes to shuck
+corn, and he composes poetry on the wooden shovel,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> and planes it out
+with my plane, and wears the shovel all up. There, now, look
+there!&mdash;could you stand it?"</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Lincoln took up a large wooden fire-shovel, and held it before
+the eyes of the Tunker. On the great bowl of the shovel were penned some
+lines in coal.</p>
+
+<p>"What does that read, elder?&mdash;I can't tell. I ain't got no larnin' to
+spare. What does it read, elder?"</p>
+
+<p>Jasper scanned the writing on the surface of the back of the shovel. The
+writing was clear and plain. Mrs. Lincoln came and looked over his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Writ it himself, likely as not," said she. "Abe writes poetry; he can't
+help it sometimes&mdash;it's a gift. Read it, elder."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper read slowly:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Time! what an empty vapor 'tis!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And days, how swift they are!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swift as an arrow speed our lives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Swift as the shooting star.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The present moment&mdash;'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"He didn't finish it, did he, elder? I think it is real pooty&mdash;don't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lincoln turned her broad, earnest face toward the Tunker.</p>
+
+<p>"Real pooty, ain't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jasper. "He'll be likely to do some great work in life, and
+leave it unfinished. It comes to me so."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 332px;">
+<img src="images/illus-188.jpg" width="332" height="500" alt="A Queer Place to write Poetry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A Queer Place to write Poetry.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't say so, elder. His father don't praise him much, but he's real
+good to me, and I hope no evil will ever happen to him. I set lots of
+store by Abe. I don't know any difference between him and my own son.
+His poor, dead mother, that lies out there all alone under the trees,
+knows that I have done by him as if he were my own. You know, the
+guardian angels of children see the face of the Father, and I kind o'
+think that she is his guardian; and if she is, now, I hain't anything to
+reflect upon."</p>
+
+<p>"Only you're spilin' him&mdash;that's all," said Mr. Lincoln. "Some women are
+so good that they are not good for anything, and between me and Sarah
+and his poor, dead mother, Abraham has never had the discipline that he
+ought to have had. But Andrew Crawford, the schoolmaster, and Josiah
+Crawford, the farmer, did their duty by him. Come, elder, let us go up
+to Jones's store, and talk politics a while. Jones, he's a Jackson man.
+He sets great store by Abe, and thinks, like you and Sarah, that the boy
+will make somethin' some day. Well, I hope he will&mdash;can't tell."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jones's store was the popular resort of Gentryville. Says one of the
+old pioneers, Dougherty: "Lincoln drove a team, and sold goods for
+Jones. Jones told me that Lincoln read all of his books, and I remember
+the History of the United States as one. Jones afterward said to me that
+Lincoln would make a great man one of these days&mdash;had said so long
+before to other people, and so as far back as 1828 and 1829."</p>
+
+<p>The store was full of men and boys when Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and
+Waubeno arrived. Dennis Hanks was there, and the Grigsbys. Josiah
+Crawford, who had made Abraham pull fodder for three days for allowing a
+book that he had lent him to get wet one rainy night, was seated on a
+barrel. His nose was very long, and he had a high forehead, and wide
+look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> across the forehead. He looked very wise and thought himself a
+Solomon.</p>
+
+<p>The men and boys all seemed to be glad to see the Tunker, and they
+greeted Waubeno kindly, though curiously, and plied him with civil
+questions about Black Hawk.</p>
+
+<p>There was to be a debate that evening, and Mr. Jones called the men to
+order, and each one mounted a barrel and lit his pipe&mdash;or all except
+Abraham and Waubeno, who did not smoke, but who stood near each other,
+almost side by side.</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham," said Thomas Lincoln, "you'll have to argue the p'int for the
+Indian well to-night, or&mdash;there he is!"&mdash;pointing to Waubeno&mdash;"he'll
+answer ye."</p>
+
+<p>The debate went slowly at first, then grew exciting. When Abraham
+Lincoln's turn came to speak, all the store grew still. The subject of
+the debate was, as Thomas Lincoln had said: "Which has the greater cause
+for complaint, the Indian or the negro?"</p>
+
+<p>Abraham Lincoln claimed the Indian was more wronged than the negro, and
+his homely face glowed as with a strange fire as he pictured the red
+man's wrongs. He towered above the men like a giant, and moved his arms
+as though they possessed some invisible power.</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno fixed his eyes on him, and felt the force and thrust of his
+every word.</p>
+
+<p>"If I were a negro," said Lincoln, "I would hope that some redeemer and
+deliverer would arise, like Moses of old. But if I were an Indian, what
+would I have to hope for, if I fell under the avarice of the white man?
+Let the past answer that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Let the heavens answer that," said Waubeno, "or let their gates be ever
+closed."</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Lincoln started.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, you have come from Black Hawk. He slays men, and we know him.
+An Indian killed my father."</p>
+
+<p>"An Indian killed your father&mdash;and what did you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"My brother Mordecai avenged his death, and caused many Indians to bite
+the dust."</p>
+
+<p>"White brother," said Waubeno, "a white man killed my father. What ought
+<i>I</i> to do?"</p>
+
+<p>The men held their pipes in silence.</p>
+
+<p>"My father was an innocent man," said the pioneer.</p>
+
+<p>"My father was an honorable warrior," said Waubeno, "and defended his
+own rights&mdash;rights as dear to him as your father's, or yours, or mine.
+What ought <i>I</i> to do?" He turned to young Lincoln. "What would <i>you</i>
+do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hold that in all things right is might, and I defend the right of an
+Indian as I would the rights of a white man, but I never would shed any
+man's blood for avarice or malice. Waubeno, I would defend you in a
+cause of right against the world. I would rather have the approval of
+Heaven than the praise of all mankind."</p>
+
+<p>"Brother," said Waubeno, "I believe that you speak true, but I do not
+know. If I only knew that you spoke true, I would not do as Mordecai
+did. I would forgive the white man."</p>
+
+<p>The candles smoked, and the men talked long into the night. At last
+Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and Waubeno went home, where Mrs. Lincoln was
+awaiting them. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> expected Abraham to follow them. They sat up that
+night late, and talked about the prairie country, and the prospects of
+the emigrants to Illinois.</p>
+
+<p>"Now you had better go to rest," said Sarah Lincoln. "I will sit up
+until Abe comes. I do not see why he is so late to-night, when the
+Tunker is here, too, and the Indian boy."</p>
+
+<p>"He's with the Grigsbys, I guess," said Mr. Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>The two men went to their beds, and Waubeno laid down on a mat on the
+floor. Hour after hour passed, and Mrs. Lincoln went again and again to
+the door and listened, but Abraham did not return. It was midnight when
+she laid down, but even then it was to listen, and not to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Abraham returned. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks
+were white.</p>
+
+<p>"Get me some coffee, mother," he said. "I have not slept a wink
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, where have you been, Abraham?"</p>
+
+<p>"Watchin'&mdash;watchin' with a frozen drunken man. I found him on the road,
+and carried him to Dennis's on my back. He seemed to be dead, but I
+rubbed him all night long, and he breathed again."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you not get some one to help you?"</p>
+
+<p>"The boys all left me. They said that old Holmes was not worth revivin',
+even if he had any life left in him; that it would be better for himself
+and everybody if he were left to perish."</p>
+
+<p>"Holmes! Did you carry that man on your back, Abraham?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I could not leave him by the road. He is a human<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> being, and I did
+by him as I would have him do by me if I lost my moral senses. They told
+me to leave him to his fate, but I couldn't, mother. I couldn't."</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno gazed on the young giant as he drank his coffee, and sank into a
+deep slumber on a mat in the room. He watched him as he slept.</p>
+
+<p>When he woke, Jasper said to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham, I wish you to know this Indian boy. I think there is a native
+nobility in him. Do you remember Johnnie Kongapod's story, at which the
+people all used to laugh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, elder."</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln, I can believe that story was true. I have faith in
+men. You do. Your faith will make you great."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DEBATING SCHOOL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>There were some queer people in every town and community of the new
+West, and these were usually active at the winter debating school. These
+schools of the people for the discussion of life, politics, literature,
+were, on the whole, excellent influences; they developed what was
+original in the thought and character of a place, and stimulated reading
+and study. If a man was a theorist, he could here find a voice for his
+opinions; and if he were a genius, he could here uncage his gifts and
+find recognition. Nearly all of the early clergymen, lawyers,
+congressmen, and leaders of the people of early Indiana and Illinois
+were somehow developed and educated in these so-called debating schools.</p>
+
+<p>Among the odd people sure to be found in such rural assemblies were the
+man with visionary schemes for railroads, canals, and internal
+improvements, the sanguine inventor, the noisy free-thinker, the
+benevolent Tunker, the man who could preach without notes by "direct
+inspiration," the man who thought that the world was about to come to an
+end, and the patriot who pictured the American eagle as a bird of fate
+and divinity. The early pioneer preacher learned to talk in public<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> in
+the debating school. The young lawyer here made his first pleas.</p>
+
+<p>The frequent debates in Jones's store led to the formation of a debating
+school in Gentryville and Pigeon Creek. In this society young Abraham
+Lincoln was the leader, and his cousin Dennis Hanks and his uncle John
+were prominent disputants. The story-telling blacksmith furnished much
+of the humor, and Josiah Crawford, or "Blue-Nose Crawford," as he was
+called, was regarded as the man of hard sense on such occasions as
+require a Solomon, or a Daniel, or a Portia, and he was very proud to be
+so regarded.</p>
+
+<p>There was a revival of interest in the cause of temperance in the
+country at this time, and the noble conduct of Abraham Lincoln, in
+carrying to his cousin Dennis's the poor drunkard whom he had found in
+the highway on the chilly night after the debate at Jones's store, may
+have led to a plan for a great debate on the subject of the pledge,
+which was appointed to take place in the log school-house at Pigeon
+Creek. The plan was no more than spoken of at the store than it began to
+excite general attention.</p>
+
+<p>"We must debate this subject of the temperance pledge," said Thomas
+Lincoln, "and get the public sense. New times are at hand. On general
+principles, I'm a temperance man; and if nobody drank once, then nobody
+would drink twice, and the world would all go dry. But there's the
+corn-huskin's, and the hoe-down, and the mowin' times, and the
+hog-killin's, and the barn-raisin's. It is only natural that men should
+wet their whistles at such times as these. In the old Scriptur' times
+people who wanted to get great spiritual power abstained from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> strong
+drink; but you can't expect no such people as those down here at Pigeon
+Creek."</p>
+
+<p>"But Abe is a temperancer, and I want the debate to come off in good
+shape, so that all you uns can hear what he has to say."</p>
+
+<p>It was decided by the leading debaters that the subject for the debate
+should be, "Ought temperance people to sign the temperance pledge?" and
+that Abraham Lincoln should sustain the affirmative view of the
+question.</p>
+
+<p>The success of young Lincoln as a debater had greatly troubled Aunt
+Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all like the rattlin' of a pea-pod in the blasts o' ortum," she
+said. "It don't signify anything. He just rains words upon ye, and makes
+ye laugh, and the first thing ye know he's got ye. Beware&mdash;beware! his
+words are just like stool-pigeons, what brings you down to get shot.
+It's amazin' what a curi'us gift of talk that boy has!"</p>
+
+<p>When she heard of the plan of the debate, and the part assigned to young
+Lincoln, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Twill be a great night for Abe, unless I hinder it. I'm agin the
+temperance pledge. Stands to reason that a man's no right to sign away
+his liberty. And I'm agin Abe Linkern, because he's too smart for
+anythin', and lives up in the air like a kite; and outthinks other
+people, because he sits round readin' and turkey-dreamin' when he ought
+to be at work. I shall work agin him."</p>
+
+<p>And she did. She first consulted upon the subject with Josiah
+Crawford&mdash;"the Esquire," as she called him&mdash;and he promised to give the
+negative of the question all the weight of his ability.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was a young man in Gentryville named John Short, who thought that
+he had had a call to preach, and who often came to Aunt Indiana for
+theological instruction.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't run round the fields readin' books, like Abraham Linkern," she
+warned him. "He'll never amount to a hill o' beans. The true way to
+become a preacher is to go into the desk, and open the Bible, and put
+yer fingers on the first passage that you come to, and then open yer
+mouth, and the Lord will fill it. I do not believe in edicated
+ministers. They trust in chariots and horses. Go right from the plow to
+the pulpit, and the heavens will help ye."</p>
+
+<p>John Short thought Aunt Indiana's advice sound, and he resolved to
+follow it. He once made an appointment to preach after this unprepared
+manner in the school-house. He could not read very well. He had once
+read at school, "And he smote the Hittite that he died" "And he smote
+the Hi-ti-ti-ty, that he did," and he opened the Bible at random for a
+Scripture lesson on this trying occasion. His eye fell upon the hard
+chapters in Chronicles beginning "Adam, Sheth, Enoch." He succeeded very
+well in the reading until he came to the generations of Japheth and the
+sons of Gomer, which were mountains too difficult to pass. He lifted his
+eyes and said, "And so it goes on to the end of the chapter, without
+regard to particulars."</p>
+
+<p>"That chapter was given me to try me," he said, as a kind of commentary,
+"and, my friends, I have been equal to it. And now you shall hear me
+preach, and after that we'll take up a contribution for the new
+meetin'-house."</p>
+
+<p>The sermon was a short one, and began amid much mental<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> confusion. "A
+certain man," he began, "went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell
+among thieves; and the thieves sprang up and choked him; and he said,
+'Who is my neighbor?' You all know who your neighbors are, O my
+friends." Here followed a long pause. He added:</p>
+
+<p>"Always be good to your neighbors. And now we will pass around the
+contribution-box, and after that we'll <i>all</i> talk."</p>
+
+<p>This beginning of his work as a speaker did not look promising, but he
+had conducted "a meetin'," and that fact made John Short a shining light
+in Aunt Indiana's eyes. To this young man the good woman went for a
+champion of her ideas in the great debate.</p>
+
+<p>But, notwithstanding her theory, she proceeded to instruct him as to
+what he should say on the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"Say to 'em, John, that he who comes to ye with a temperance pledge
+insults yer character. It is like askin' ye to promise not to become a
+jackass; and what would ye think of a man who would ask ye to sign a
+paper like that? or to sign the Ten Commandments? or to promise that
+ye'd never lie any <i>more</i>? It's one's duty to maintain one's dignity of
+character, and, John, I want ye to open yer mouth in defense of the
+rights of liberty on the occasion; and do yer duty, and bring down the
+Philistine with a pebble-stun, and 'twill be a glorious night for Pigeon
+Creek."</p>
+
+<p>The views of Aunt Olive Eastman on preaching without preparation and on
+temperance were common at this time in Indiana and Illinois. By not
+understanding a special direction of our Lord to his disciples as to
+what they should do in times of persecution, many of the pioneer
+exhorters used to speak from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> the text on which their eyes first rested
+on opening the Bible. They seemed to think that this mental field needed
+no planting or culture&mdash;no training like Paul's in the desert of Arabia,
+and that the pulpit stood outside of the universal law. The moral
+education of the pledge of Father Matthew was just beginning to excite
+attention. Strange as it may seem, the thoughts and plans of the Irish
+apostle of temperance and founder of the Order of St. Vincent de Paul
+seemed to have come to Abraham Lincoln in his early days much as
+original inspiration. His first public speech was on this subject. It
+was made in Springfield, Illinois, in 1842, and advocated the plan which
+Father Matthew was then originating in Ireland, the education of the
+public conscience by the moral force of the temperance pledge.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lengthening autumn evening when the debate took place in the
+school-house in the timber. The full moon rose like a disk of gold as
+the sun sank in clouds of crimson fire, and the light of the day became
+a mellowed splendor during half of the night. The corn-fields in the
+clearings rose like armies, bearing food on every hand. Flocks of birds
+darkened the sunset air, and little animals of the woods ran to and fro
+amid the crisp and fallen leaves. The air was vital with the coolness
+that brings the frost and causes the trees to unclasp their countless
+shells, barks, and burrs, and let the ripe nuts fall.</p>
+
+<p>The school-room filled with earnest faces early in the evening. The
+people came over from Gentryville, among them Mr. Gentry himself and Mr.
+Jones the store-keeper. Women brought tallow dips for lights, and
+curious candlesticks and snuffers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana and Josiah Crawford came together, an imposing-looking
+couple, who brought with them the air of special sense and wisdom. Aunt
+Indiana wore a bonnet of enormous proportions, which distinguished her
+from the other women, who wore hoods. She brought in her hand a brass
+candlestick, which the children somehow associated with the ancient
+Scripture figures, and which looked as though it might have belonged to
+the temples of old. She was tall and stately, and the low room was too
+short for her soaring bonnet, but she bent her head, and sat down near
+Josiah Crawford, and set the candle in the shining candlestick, and cast
+a glance of conscious superiority over the motley company.</p>
+
+<p>The moderator rapped for order and stated the question for debate, and
+made some inspiring remarks about "parliamentary" rules. John Short
+opened the debate with a plea for independence of character, and
+self-respect and personal liberty.</p>
+
+<p>"What would you think," he asked, "of a man who would come to you <i>in
+the night</i> and ask you to sign a paper not to lie any more? What? You
+would think that he thought you had been lying. Would you sign that
+paper? No! You would call out the dogs of retribution, and take down
+your father's sword, and you would uplift your foot into the indignant
+air, and protect your family name and honor. Who would be called a liar,
+in a cowardly way like that? And who would be called a drunkard, by
+being asked to sign the paper of a tee-totaler? Who?"</p>
+
+<p>Here John Short paused. He presently said:</p>
+
+<p>"Hoo?"&mdash;which sounded in the breathless silence like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> the inquiries of
+an owl. But his ideas had all taken wings again and left him, as on the
+occasion when he attempted to preach without notes or preparation.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana looked distressed. She leaned over toward Josiah Crawford,
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Say somethin'."</p>
+
+<p>But Josiah hesitated. Then, to the great amusement of all, Aunt Indiana
+rose to the ceiling, bent her generously bonneted head, stretched forth
+her arm, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"He is quite right&mdash;quite right, Josiah. Is he not, Josiah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right," said Josiah.</p>
+
+<p>"People do not talk about what is continuous&mdash;what goes right along. Am
+I not right, Josiah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right! quite right!"</p>
+
+<p>"If a man tells me he is honest, he is not honest. If he tells me that
+he is pure, he isn't pure. If he were honest or pure he says nothing
+about it. Am I not right, Josiah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right! quite right!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody tells about his stomach unless it is out of order; and no one
+puts cotton into keyholes unless he himself is peeking through keyholes.
+Am I not right, Josiah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right! quite right!"</p>
+
+<p>"And no one asks ye to sign a temperance pledge unless he's been a
+drunkard himself, or thinks ye are one, or likely to be. Ain't I right,
+Josiah?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right!"</p>
+
+<p>"The best way to support temperance is to live temperately and say
+nothin' about it. There, now! If I had held my peace, the stones would
+have cried out. Olive Eastman has spoken,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> and Josiah says that I am
+right, and I'm agin the temperance pledge, and there's nothin' more to
+be said about it."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana sat down amid much applause. Then Jasper rose, and showed
+that intemperance was a great evil, and that public sentiment should be
+educated against it.</p>
+
+<p>"This education should begin in childhood," he said, "in habits of
+self-respect and self-restraint. The child should be first instructed to
+say "No" to himself."</p>
+
+<p>He proceeded to argue for the temperance pledge from his point of view.</p>
+
+<p>"The world is educated by pledges," he said. "The patriot is kept in his
+line of march by the pledge; the business man makes a pledge when he
+signs a note; and the Christian takes pledges when he joins the Church.
+We should be willing to take any pledge that will make life better. If
+eating meat cause my brother to stumble and offend, then I will not eat
+meat. I will sacrifice myself always to that which will help the world
+and honor God. I am sorry to differ from the good woman who has spoken,
+but I am for the use of the pledge. I never drank strong drink, and this
+hand shall sign any pledge that will help a poor tempted brother by my
+example."</p>
+
+<p>Tall Abraham Lincoln arose.</p>
+
+<p>"There! he's goin' to speak&mdash;I knew he'd been preparin'," whispered Aunt
+Indiana to Josiah Crawford. "Wonder what he'll have to say. <i>You'll</i>
+have to answer him. He's just a regular Philistine, and goes stalkin'
+through the land, and turns people's heads; and he's just Tom Linkern's
+son, who is shiftless and poor, and I'm goin' agin him."</p>
+
+<p>The tall young man stood silent. The people were silent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> Aunt Indiana
+gave her puncheon seat a push to break the force of that silence, and
+whispered to Josiah:</p>
+
+<p>"There! they are all ears. I told ye 'twould be so. You must answer
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Young Lincoln spoke slowly, and after this manner:</p>
+
+<p>"My friends: When you pledge yourself to enforce a principle, you
+identify yourself with that principle, and give it power."</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence. Then the people filled the little room with
+applause. He continued most impressively in the words of grand
+oration:<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> We use here some of the exact sentences which young Lincoln
+employed on a similar occasion at Springfield.</p></div>
+
+<p>"The universal sense of mankind on any subject is an argument, or at
+least an influence, not easily overcome. The success of the argument in
+favor of the existence of an over-ruling Providence mainly depends upon
+that sense; and men ought not, in justice, to be denounced for yielding
+to it in any case, or giving it up slowly, especially when they are
+backed by interest, fixed habits, or burning appetites.</p>
+
+<p>"If it be true that those who have suffered by intemperance personally
+and have reformed are the most powerful and efficient instruments to
+push the reformation to ultimate success, it does not follow that those
+who have not suffered have no part left them to perform. Whether or not
+the world would be vastly benefited by a total and final banishment from
+it of all intoxicating drinks seems to me not now an open question.
+Three fourths of mankind confess the affirmative with their tongues;
+and, I believe, all the rest acknowledge it in their hearts.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But it is said by some, that men will think and act for themselves;
+that none will disuse spirits or anything else because his neighbors do;
+and that moral influence is not that powerful engine contended for. Let
+us examine this. Let me ask the man who could maintain this position
+most stiffly, what compensation he will accept to go to church some
+Sunday and sit during the sermon with his wife's bonnet upon his head?
+Not a trifle, I'll venture. And why not? There would be nothing
+irreligious in it, nothing immoral, nothing uncomfortable&mdash;then why not?
+Is it not because there would be something egregiously unfashionable in
+it? Then, it is the influence of fashion. And what is the influence of
+fashion but the influence that other people's actions have on our own
+actions&mdash;the strong inclination each of us feels to do as we see all our
+neighbors do? Nor is the influence of fashion confined to any particular
+thing or class of things. It is just as strong on one subject as
+another. Let us make it as unfashionable to withhold our names from the
+temperance pledge as for husbands to wear their wives' bonnets to
+church, and instances will be just as rare in the one case as in the
+other."</p>
+
+<p>The people saw the moral point clearly. They felt the force of what the
+young orator had said. No one was willing to follow him.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you anything to say, Mr. Crawford?" said the moderator.</p>
+
+<p>Josiah merely shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"He don't care to put on his wife's bonnet agin public opinion," said
+the blacksmith.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SCHOOL THAT MADE LINCOLN PRESIDENT.</h3>
+
+
+<p>While teaching and preaching in Decatur, Jasper heard of the new village
+of Salem, Illinois, on the Sangamon. He thought that the little town
+might offer him a chance to exert a new influence, and he resolved to
+visit it, and to preach and to teach there for a time should the people
+receive him kindly.</p>
+
+<p>The village was a small one, consisting of a community store, a
+school-house, a tavern, and a few houses; and Jasper knew of only one
+friend there at the time, a certain Mr. Duncan, who lived some two miles
+from the main street and the store.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, after a long journey over prairie land, Jasper came to
+Mrs. Duncan's door, and was met cordially by the good woman, and invited
+by her to make his home there for a time.</p>
+
+<p>The family gathered around the story-telling missionary after supper,
+and listened to his tales of the Rhine, all of which had some
+soul-lesson in his view, and enabled him to preach by parables. No
+stories better served this peculiar mission than Baron Fouqu&eacute;'s, and
+this night he related Thiodolf, the Icelander.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There came a rap at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Who can that be?" said Mrs. Duncan in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>She opened the door, and a tall, dark-faced young man stood before her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Abe," said Mrs. Duncan, "what has brought you here at this late
+hour? I hope that nothing has happened!"</p>
+
+<p>"That bill of yours. You paid me two dollars and six cents, did you not?
+It was not right."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it? Well, I paid you all that you asked me, like an honest woman,
+so I am not to blame for any mistake. How much more do you want? If it
+isn't too much I'll pay it, for I think that you mean well."</p>
+
+<p>"More! That isn't it, Mrs. Duncan; you paid me six cents too much&mdash;you
+overpaid me. It was my fault."</p>
+
+<p>"Your fault!&mdash;and honest Abe Lincoln, you have walked two miles out of
+your way to pay me that six cents! Why didn't you wait until to-morrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what is going to happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't sleep with a thing like that on my conscience. Now I feel light
+and free again."</p>
+
+<p>"Come in, if it is late. We've got company&mdash;a Tunker&mdash;teaches, preaches,
+and works. May be you have met him before. He's been traveling down in
+Indiana and middle Illinois."</p>
+
+<p>Abraham came in, and Jasper rose to receive him.</p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln," said the wandering school-master, "it does my heart good to
+see you. I see that you have grown in body and in soul. What brought you
+here? I have been telling stories<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> for hours. Sit down, and tell us
+about what has happened to you since we met last."</p>
+
+<p>The tall young man sat down.</p>
+
+<p>"He's clark down to Orfutt's store now," said Mrs. Duncan, "and his word
+is as good as gold, and his weights are as true as the scales of the
+Judgment Day. Why, one day he made a wrong weight of half a pound, and
+as soon as he found it out he shut up the shop and went shivering
+through the village with that half-pound of tea as though the powers of
+the air were after him. He's schooled his conscience so that he couldn't
+be dishonest if he were to try. I do believe a dishonorable act would
+wither him and drive him crazy."</p>
+
+<p>"Character, which is the habit of obedience to the universal law of
+right, is the highest school of life," said Jasper. "That is what I try
+to teach everywhere. But Abraham has heard me say that before. Where
+have you been since I saw you last? Tell me, what has been your school
+of life?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been to New Orleans in a flat-boat. I went for Mr. Orfutt, who
+now keeps the store in this place. When I came back he gave me a place
+in his store here. I have been here ever since."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you see in New Orleans?"</p>
+
+<p>"Slavery&mdash;men sold in the market like cattle. Jasper, it made me long to
+have power&mdash;to control men and congresses and armies. If I only had the
+power, I would strike that institution hard. I said that to John Hanks,
+and he thought that slavery wasn't in any danger from anything that I
+would be likely to do. It don't look so, does it, elder? I have one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+vote, and I shall always cast that against wrong as long as I live. That
+is my right to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Elder, listen. I want to tell you what I saw there one day, in a
+slave-pen. I saw a handsome young girl, with white blood in her, brought
+forward by a slave-driver and handled and struck with a whip like a
+horse. I had heard of such things before, but it did not seem possible
+that they could be true. Then I saw the same girl sold at auction, and
+purchased by a man who carried the face of a brute. When she saw who had
+purchased her, she wrung her hands and cried, but she was helpless and
+hopeless; and I turned my face toward the sky and vowed to give my soul
+against a system like that. I'm a Free-Soiler in my heart, and I have
+faith that right is might, and that the right in this matter will one
+day prevail."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper remained with Mrs. Duncan for some days, and then formed a small
+school in the neighborhood, on the road to the town of Springfield,
+Illinois.</p>
+
+<p>While teaching here he could not but notice the growth of Orfutt's clerk
+in the confidence of all the people. In all the games, he was chosen
+umpire or referee; in most cases of dispute he was consulted, and his
+judgment was followed. Long before he became a lawyer, people were
+accustomed to say, in a matter of casuistry:</p>
+
+<p>"Take the case to Lincoln. He will give an opinion that will be fair."</p>
+
+<p>Amid this growing reputation for character, a test happened which showed
+how far this moral education and discipline had gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A certain Henry McHenry, a popular man, had planned a horse-race, and
+applied to young Lincoln to go upon the racing stand as judge.</p>
+
+<p>"The people have confidence in you," he said to Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"I must not, and I will not do it," said Lincoln. "This custom of racing
+is wrong."</p>
+
+<p>The man showed him that he was under a certain obligation to act as
+judge on this occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"I will do it," he said; "but be it known to all that I will never
+appear at a horse-race again; and were I to become a lawyer, I would
+never accept a case into which I could not take an honest conscience, no
+matter what the inducements might be."</p>
+
+<p>There was a school-master in New Salem who knew more than the honest
+clerk had been able to learn. This man, whose name was Graham, could
+teach grammar.</p>
+
+<p>Abraham went to him one day, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"I have a notion to study grammar."</p>
+
+<p>"If you ever expect to enter public life, you should do so," said Mr.
+Graham. "Why not begin now and recite to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where shall I secure a book?" asked the student of this hard college of
+the wood.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a man named Vaner, who lives six miles from here, who has a
+grammar that I think he will be willing to sell."</p>
+
+<p>"If it be possible, I will secure it," said Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>He made a long walk and purchased the book, and so made a
+grammar-school, a class of one, of his leisure moments in Orfutt's
+store.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>While he thus was studying grammar, the men whom he thirty or more years
+afterward made Cabinet ministers, generals, and diplomats were enjoying
+the easy experiences of schools, military academies, and colleges. Not
+one of them ever dreamed of such an experience of soul-building and
+mind-building as this; and some of them, had they met him then, would
+have felt that they could not have invited him to their homes. Orfutt's
+store and that one grammar were not the elms of Yale, or the campus of
+Harvard, or the great libraries or bowery streets of English Oxford or
+Cambridge. Yet here grew and developed a soul which was to tower above
+the age, and hold hands with the master spirits not only of the time but
+the ages.</p>
+
+<p>Years passed, and one day that sad-faced boy, who was always seeking to
+make others cheerful amid the clouds of his own gloom, stood before a
+grim council of war. He had determined to call into the field of arms
+five hundred thousand men.</p>
+
+<p>"If you do that thing," said a leader of the council, "you can not
+expect to be elected again President of the United States."</p>
+
+<p>The dark form rose to the height of a giant and poured forth his soul,
+and he said:</p>
+
+<p>"It is not necessary for me to be re-elected President of the United
+States, but it is necessary for the soldiers at the front to be
+re-enforced by five hundred thousand men, and I shall call for them; and
+if I go down under the act, I will go down like the Cumberland, with my
+colors flying."</p>
+
+<p>It required a high school of experience to train a soul to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> an utterance
+like that; and that fateful declaration began in those moral syllables
+that defended the rights of the animals of the woods, that said "No" to
+a horse-race, that refused from the first to accept an unjust case at
+law, and that from the first declared that right is might.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THOMAS LINCOLN MOVES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Jasper taught school for a time in Boonesville, Indiana, and preached in
+the new settlements along the Wabash. While at Boonesville, he chanced
+to meet young Lincoln at the court house, under circumstances that
+filled his heart with pity.</p>
+
+<p>It was at a trial for murder that greatly excited the people. The lawyer
+for the defense was John Breckinridge, a man of great reputation and
+ability.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper saw young Lincoln among the people who had come to hear the great
+lawyer's plea, and said to him:</p>
+
+<p>"You have traveled a long distance to be here to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the tall young man. "There is nothing that leads one to seek
+information of the most intelligent people like a debating society. We,
+who used to meet to discuss questions at Jones's store, have formed a
+debating society, and I want to learn all I can of law for the sake of
+justice, and I owed it to myself and the society not to let this great
+occasion pass. I have walked fifteen miles to be here to-day. Did you
+know that father was thinking of moving to Illinois?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Will you go with him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I shall go with him and see him well settled, and then I shall
+strike out for myself in the world. Father hasn't the faculty that
+mother has, you know. I can do some things better than he, and it is the
+duty of one member of the family to make up when he can for what another
+member lacks. We all have our own gifts, and should share them with
+others. I can split rails faster than father can, and do better work at
+house-building than he, and I am going with him and do for him the best
+I can at the start. I shall seek first for a roof for him, and then a
+place for myself."</p>
+
+<p>The great lawyer arrived. The doors of the court-house were open, and
+the people filled the court-room.</p>
+
+<p>The plea was a masterly one, eloquent and dramatic, and it thrilled the
+young soul of Lincoln. Full of the subject, the young debater sought Mr.
+Breckinridge after the court adjourned, and extended his long arm and
+hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>The orator was a proud man of an aristocratic family, and thought it the
+proper thing to maintain his dignity on all occasions. He looked at the
+boy haughtily, and refused to take his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I thank you," said Lincoln. "I wish to express my gratitude."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir!"</p>
+
+<p>With a contemptuous look Breckinridge passed by, and the slight filled
+the heart of the young man with disappointment and mortification. The
+two met again in Washington in 1862. The backwoods boy whose hand the
+orator had refused to take had become President of the United States. He
+extended his hand, and it was accepted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sir," said the President, "that plea of yours in Boonesville, Indiana,
+was one of the best that I ever heard."</p>
+
+<p>"In Boonesville, Indiana?"</p>
+
+<p>How like a dream to the haughty lawyer the recollection must have been!
+Such things as this hurt Lincoln to the quick. He was so low-spirited at
+times in his early manhood that he did not dare to carry with him a
+pocket-knife, lest he should be overcome in some dark and evil moment to
+end his own life. There were times when his tendencies were so alarming
+that he had to be watched by his friends. But these dark periods were
+followed by a great flow of spirits and the buoyancy of hope.</p>
+
+<p>In the spring of 1830, Jasper and Waubeno came to Gentryville, and there
+met James Gentry, the leading man of the place.</p>
+
+<p>"Are the Linkens still living in Spencer County?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Gentry, "but it has been a hard winter here, and they
+are about to move. The milk sickness has been here again and has carried
+off the cattle, and the people have become discouraged, and look upon
+the place as unhealthy. I have bought Thomas Linken's property. The man
+was here this morning. You will find him getting ready to go away from
+Indiana for good and all."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he going?" asked Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"Off to Illinois."</p>
+
+<p>"So I thought," said Jasper. "I must go to see him. How is that bright
+boy of his?"</p>
+
+<p>"Abe?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I like that boy. I am drawn toward him. There is something about
+him that doesn't belong to many people&mdash;a spiritual graft that won't
+bear any common fruit. I can see it with my spiritual eye, in the open
+vision, as it were. You don't understand those things&mdash;I see you don't.
+I must see him. There are not many like him in soul, if he is ungainly
+in body. I believe that he is born to some higher destiny than other
+men. I see that you do not understand me. Time will make it plain."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a trader, and no prophet, and I don't know much about such matters
+as these. But Abe Linken, he's grown up now, and <i>up</i> it is, more than
+six feet tall. He's a giant, a great, ungainly, awkward, clever, honest
+fellow, full of jokes and stories, though down at times, and he wouldn't
+do a wrong thing if it were for his right hand, and couldn't do an
+unkind one. He comes up to the store here often and tells stories, and
+sometimes stays until almost midnight, just as he used to do at Jones's.
+Everybody likes him here, and we shall all miss him when he goes away."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper and Waubeno left the little Indiana town, and went toward the
+cabin of the Lincolns. On the way Jasper turned aside to pay a short
+visit to Aunt Olive.</p>
+
+<p>The busy woman saw the preacher from her door, and came out to welcome
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew it was you," was her salutation, "and I am right glad that you
+have come. It has been distressin' times in these parts. Folks have
+died, and cattle have died, and we're all poor enough now, ye may
+depend. Where are ye goin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"To see the Lincolns."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sho'! goin' to see them again. Well, ye're none too soon. They're
+gettin' ready to move to Illinois. Thomas Linken's always movin.' Moved
+four times or more already, and I 'magine he'll just keep movin' till he
+moves into his grave, and stops for good. He just lives up in the air,
+that man does. He always is imaginin' that it rains gold in the <i>next</i>
+State or county, but it never rains anythin' but rain where he is; and
+if it rained puddin' and sugar-cane, his dish would be bottom upward,
+sure. Elder, what does make ye take such an interest in that there
+family?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Lincoln is a very good woman, an uncommon one; and Abraham&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, elder, I knew ye were goin' to say somethin' good of Abraham. Yer
+heart is just set on that boy. I could see it when ye were here. I
+remember all that ye prophesied about him. I ain't forgot it. Well, I am
+a very plain-spoken woman. Ye ain't much of a prophet, in my opinion. He
+hain't got anywhere yet&mdash;now, has he? He's just a great, tall, black,
+jokin' boy; awful lazy, always readin' and talkin'; tellin' stories and
+makin' people laugh, with his own mind as blue as my indigo-bag behind
+it all. That is just what he is, elder, and he'll never amount to
+anythin' in this world or any other. It's all just as I told ye it would
+be. There, now, elder, that's as true as preachin', and the plain facts
+of the case. You wait and see. Time tells the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"His opportunity is yet to come; and when it does, he will have the
+heart and mind to fill it," said Jasper. "A soul that is true to what is
+best in life, becomes a power among men at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> last&mdash;it is spiritual
+gravitation. 'Tis current leads the river. You do not see."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I do not understand any such things as those; but when you've been
+over to see the Linkens, you come back here, and I'll make ye some more
+doughnuts. Come back, won't ye, and bring yer Indian boy? I'm a plain
+woman, and live all alone, and I do love to hear ye talk. It gives me
+somethin' to think about after ye're gone; and there ain't many
+preachers that visit these parts."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper moved on under the great trees, and came to the simple Lincoln
+cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"You have come back, elder," said Thomas Lincoln. "Travelin' with your
+Indian boy? I'm glad to see you, though we are very poor now. We're
+goin' to move away&mdash;we and some other families. We're all off to
+Illinois. You've traveled over that kentry, preacher?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I've been there."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you think of the kentry?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a wonderful country, Mr. Lincoln. It can produce grain enough to
+feed the world. The earth grows gold. It will some day uplift cities&mdash;it
+will be rich and happy. I like the prairie country well."</p>
+
+<p>"There! let me tell my wife.&mdash;Mother, here's the preacher. What do you
+think he says about the prairie kentry? Says the earth grows gold."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mrs. Lincoln looked sad and doubtful. She had heard such things
+before. But she welcomed Jasper heartily, and the three, with Waubeno,
+sat down to a meal of plain Indian pudding and milk, and talked of the
+sorrowful winter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> that had passed and the prospects of a better life
+amid the flowery prairies of Illinois.</p>
+
+<p>A little dog played around them while they were thus eating and talking.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not our dog," said Mrs. Lincoln, "but he has taken a great liking
+to Abraham. The boy is away now, but he will be back by sundown. The dog
+belongs to one of the family, and is always restless when Abraham has
+gone away. Abraham wants to take him along with us, but it seems to me
+that we've got enough mouths to feed without him. We are all so poor!
+and I don't see what good he would do. But if Abraham says so, he will
+have to go."</p>
+
+<p>"How is Abraham?" asked Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he is well, and as good to me as ever, and he studies hard, just as
+he used to do."</p>
+
+<p>"And is as lazy as ever," said Thomas Lincoln. "At the lazy folks' fair
+he'd take the premium."</p>
+
+<p>"You shouldn't say that," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Just think how good he was
+to everybody during the sickness! He never thought of himself, but just
+worked night and day. His own mother died of the same sickness years
+ago, and he's had a feelin' heart for the sufferers in this calamity. I
+tell you, elder, that he's good to everybody, and if he does not take
+hold to work in the way that father does, his head and heart are never
+idle. I am sorry that he and father do not see more alike. The boy is
+goin' to do well in the world. He begins right."</p>
+
+<p>When Abraham returned, there was one heart that was indeed glad to see
+him. It was the little dog. The animal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> bounded heels over head as soon
+as he heard the boy's step, and almost leaped upon his tall shoulder as
+he met him.</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" said Mr. Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"Animals know who are good to them," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Abraham, here
+is the preacher."</p>
+
+<p>How tall, and dark, and droll, and yet how sad, the boy looked! He was
+full grown now, uncouth and ungainly. Who but Jasper would have seen
+behind the features of that young, sinewy backwoodsman the soul of the
+leader and liberator?</p>
+
+<p>It was a busy time with the Lincolns. Their goods were loaded upon a
+rude and very heavy ox-wagon, and the oxen were given into the charge of
+young Abraham to drive.</p>
+
+<p>The young man's voice might have been heard a mile as he swung his whip
+and called out to the oxen on starting. They passed by the grave under
+the great trees where his poor mother's body lay and left it there,
+never to be visited again. There were some thirteen persons in the
+emigrant party.</p>
+
+<p>Emigrant wagons were passing toward Illinois, the "prairie country," as
+it was called, over all the roads of Indiana. The "schooners," as these
+wagons were called, were everywhere to be seen on the great prairie sea.
+It was the time of the great emigration. Jasper had never dreamed of a
+life like this before. He looked into one prairie wagon, whose young
+driver had gone for water. He turned to Waubeno, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think I saw?"</p>
+
+<p>"Guns to destroy the Indians; trinkets and trifles to cheat us out of
+our lands; whisky for tent-making."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Waubeno. There was an old grandmother there, a sick woman, and a
+little coffin. This is a sad world sometimes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> I pity everybody, and I
+would that all men were brothers. Go, look into the wagon, Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>The Indian went, and soon returned.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you pity them, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"I pity the Indian mother too. Your people drove her from her
+corn-fields at Rock Island, and she left the graves of her children
+behind her."</p>
+
+<p>There was a shadow of sadness in the hearts of the Lincoln family as
+they turned away forever from the grave of Nancy Lincoln under the
+trees. The poor woman who rested there in the spot soon to be
+obliterated, little thought on her dying bed that the little boy she was
+leaving to poverty and adventure would be one day ranked with great men
+of the ages&mdash;with Servius Tullius, Pericles, Cincinnatus, Cromwell,
+Hampden, Washington, and Bolivar; that he would sit in the seat of a
+long line of illustrious Presidents, call a million men to arms, or that
+his rude family features would find a place among the grand statues of
+every liberated country on earth.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Nancy Hanks! Every one who knew her had felt the warmth of her
+kindness and marked her sadness. She was an intellectual woman, was
+deeply religious, and is believed to have been a very emotional
+character in the old Methodist camp-meetings. Her family, the Hankses,
+were among the best singers and loudest shouters at the camp-meetings,
+and she was in sympathy with them.</p>
+
+<p>Her heart lived on in Abraham. When she fell sick of the epidemic fever,
+Abraham, then a boy of ten years of age, waited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> upon her and nursed
+her. There was no doctor within twenty-five miles. She was so slender,
+and had been so ill-sustained that the fever-fires did their work in a
+week. Finding her end near, she called Abraham and his little sister to
+her, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Be good to one another."</p>
+
+<p>Her face looked into Abraham's for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>"Live," she said, "as I have taught you. Love your kindred, and worship
+God."</p>
+
+<p>She faded away, and her husband made her coffin with a whip-saw out of
+green wood, and on a changing October day they laid her away under the
+trees. They were leaving her grave now, the humblest of all places then,
+but a shrine to-day, for her son's character has glorified it.</p>
+
+<p>He must have always remembered the hymns that she used to sing. Some of
+them were curious compositions. In the better class of them were; "Am I
+a soldier of the cross," "Alas! and did my Saviour bleed," and "How
+tedious and tasteless the hour." The camp-meeting melodies were simple,
+mere movements, like the negro songs.</p>
+
+<p>Abraham swung his whip lustily over the oxen's heads on that long spring
+journey, and directed the way. The wheels of the cart were great
+rollers, and they creaked along. Here and there the roads were muddy,
+but the sky was blue above, and the buds were swelling, and the birds
+were singing, and the little dog that belonged to the party kept close
+to his heels, and the poor people journeyed on under the giant timber,
+and out of it at times along the ocean-like prairies of the Illinois.
+The world was before them&mdash;an expanse of forest and prairie that in
+fifty years were to be changed by the axe and plowshare into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> prosperous
+farms and homesteads, and settled by the restless nations of the world.</p>
+
+<p>The journey was long. There were spells of wintry weather, for the
+spring advanced by degrees even here. Streams overflowing their banks
+lay across their way, and these had to be forded.</p>
+
+<p>One morning the party came to a stream covered with thin ice. The oxen
+and horses hesitated, but were forced into the cold water. After a
+dreary effort the hardy pilgrims passed over and mounted the western
+bank. A sharp cry was heard on the opposite side.</p>
+
+<p>"You have left the dog, Abe," said one. "Good riddance to him! I am glad
+that we are quit of him at last."</p>
+
+<p>The dog's pitiable cry rang out on the crisp, cool air. He was barking
+<i>to</i> Abraham, and the teamster's heart recognized that the animal's call
+was to him.</p>
+
+<p>"See him run, and howl!" said another. "Whip up, Abe, and we will soon
+be out of sight."</p>
+
+<p>Young Lincoln looked behind. The little animal would go down to the
+water, and try to swim across, but the broken ice drove him back. Then
+he set up a cry, as much as to say:</p>
+
+<p>"Abe, Abe, you will not leave me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Drive on," said one of the men. "He'll take care of himself. He'd no
+business to lag behind. What do we want of the dog, anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>The animal cried more and more piteously and lustily.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoa!" said Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do, Abe?"</p>
+
+<p>"To do as I would be done by. I can't stand that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lincoln plunged into the frozen water and waded across. The dog,
+overjoyed, leaped into his arms. Lincoln returned, having borne the
+little dog in his arms across the stream. He was cold and dripping, and
+was censured for causing a needless delay. But he had a happy face and
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>Referring to this episode of the journey a long time afterward, Lincoln
+said to a friend:</p>
+
+<p>"I could not endure the idea of abandoning even a dog. Pulling off shoes
+and socks, I waded across the stream, and triumphantly returned with the
+shivering animal under my arms. His frantic leaps of joy, and other
+evidences of gratitude, repaid me for all the exposure I had
+undergone."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>MAIN-POGUE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Jasper taught for a time near New Salem, then made again his usual
+circuit, after which he made his home for a time at Springfield,
+Illinois. When Jasper was returning from this last circuit of his
+self-appointed mission the Black Hawk war had begun again. He came one
+day, after long wanderings, to Bushville, in Schuyler County, Illinois,
+and found the place in a state of great excitement. The town was filling
+with armed men, and among them were many faces that he had seen at New
+Salem, when Waubeno was his companion.</p>
+
+<p>He recognized a Mr. Green, whom he had known in New Salem, and said to
+him:</p>
+
+<p>"My friend, what does this armed gathering mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Black Hawk has crossed the Mississippi and is making war on the
+settlers. The Governor has called for volunteers to defend the State."</p>
+
+<p>"What has led to this new outbreak?" said Jasper, although few knew the
+cause better than he.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, sentiment&mdash;Indian sentiment. Black Hawk wants the old Indian town
+on the bluff again. He says it is sacred to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> race; that his
+ancestors are buried there, and that there is no place like it on earth,
+or none that can take its place in his soul. He claims that the chiefs
+had been made drunk by the white men when they signed the treaty that
+gave up the town; that he never sold his fathers' graves. His heart is
+full of revenge, and he and all his tribe cling to that old Sac village
+with the grasp of death."</p>
+
+<p>"The trouble has been gathering long?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. The settlers came up, under the treaty, to occupy the best lands
+around the Sac town and compel the Indians to live west of the
+Mississippi. Then the Indians and settlers began to dispute and quarrel.
+The settlers brought whisky, and Black Hawk demanded that it should not
+be sold to his people. He violently entered a settler's claim, and stove
+in a barrel of whisky before the man's eyes. Then the Indians went over
+the Mississippi sullenly, and left their cabins and corn-fields. But
+hard weather came, and the women would come back to the old corn-fields,
+which they had planted the year before, to steal corn. They said that
+the corn was theirs, and that they were starving for their own food.
+Some of them were killed by the settlers. Black Hawk had become enraged
+again. He has been trying to get the Indian tribes to unite and kill all
+of the whites. He has violated the old Indian treaty, and is murdering
+people on every hand, and the Governor has asked for volunteers to
+protect the lives and property of the settlers. He had to do it. Either
+the whites or the Indians must perish. The settlers came here under a
+legal treaty; they must be protected. It is no time for sentiment now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Are nearly all of the men of New Salem here?" said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; Abraham Lincoln was the first to enlist, and he is our leader. He
+ought to be a good Indian fighter. His grandfather was killed by the
+Indians."</p>
+
+<p>"So I have heard."</p>
+
+<p>"But Lincoln himself is not a hard man; there's nothing revengeful about
+him. He would be more likely to do a good act to an Indian than a
+harmful one, if he could. His purpose is not to kill Indians, but to
+protect the State and save the lives of peaceful, inoffensive people."</p>
+
+<p>The men from the several towns in the vicinity gathered in the open
+space, and proceeded to elect their officers.</p>
+
+<p>The manner of the election was curious. There were the two candidates
+for captain of the company. They were Abraham Lincoln and a man by the
+name of Fitzpatrick. Each volunteer was asked to put himself in the line
+by the side of the man of his choice.</p>
+
+<p>One by one they stepped forward and arranged themselves by the side of
+Lincoln, until Lincoln stood at the head of a larger part of the men.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Lincoln!" said one, when he saw how the election was going.
+"Three cheers for Honest Abe! He is our man."</p>
+
+<p>There arose a great shout of "Captain Lincoln!"</p>
+
+<p>Jasper marked the delight which the election had given his old New Salem
+friends. Lincoln himself once said that that election was the proudest
+event of his life.</p>
+
+<p>The New Salem Company went into camp at Beardstown,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> and was disbanded
+at Ottawa thirty days after, not having met the enemy. Lincoln, feeling
+that he should be true to his country and the public safety at the hour
+of peril, enlisted again as a common private, served another thirty
+days, and then, the war not being over, he enlisted again. The war
+terminated with the battle of Bad Axe and the capture of Black Hawk, who
+became a prisoner of state.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when the volunteers were greatly excited by the tales of Indian
+murders, and were beset by foes lurking in ambush and pirogue, a
+remarkable scene occurred in Lincoln's camp.</p>
+
+<p>The men, who had been talking over a recent massacre by the Indians,
+were thirsting to avenge the barbarities, when suddenly the withered
+form of an Indian appeared before them.</p>
+
+<p>They started, and an officer demanded:</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Main-Pogue."</p>
+
+<p>"How came you here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am a friend to the white man. I'm going to meet my son, a boy whom I
+have made my own."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a spy!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a spy. I am Main-Pogue. I am hungry; I am old. I am no spy.
+Give an old Indian food, and I will serve you while you need. Then let
+me go and find my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Food!" said one. "You are a spy, a plotter. There is murder in your
+heart. We will make short work with you. That is what we are sent out to
+do."</p>
+
+<p>"I never did the white man harm," said the old man, drawing his blanket
+around him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You shall pay for this, you old hypocrite!" said another officer. "Men,
+what shall we do with this spy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Kill him!" said one.</p>
+
+<p>"Shoot him!" said another.</p>
+
+<p>"Torture him, and make him confess!" said a third.</p>
+
+<p>The old Indian stood bent and trembling.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a wandering beggar, looking for my boy," said the Indian. "I never
+did the white man harm. Hear me."</p>
+
+<p>"You belong to Black Hawk's devils," said an officer, "and you are
+plotting our death. You shall be shot. Seize him!"</p>
+
+<p>The old Indian trembled as the men surrounded him bent on his
+destruction.</p>
+
+<p>There came toward the excited company a tall young officer. All eyes
+were bent upon him. He peered into the face of the old Indian. The men
+rushed forward to obey the officer.</p>
+
+<p>"Halt!" said the tall captain. "This Indian must not be killed by us."</p>
+
+<p>That speaker was Abraham Lincoln. The men jeered at him, but he stood
+between the Indian and them, like a form of iron.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian gave his protector a grateful look, and there dropped from
+his hand a passport, which in his confusion he had failed to give the
+officer. It was a certificate saying that he had rendered good service
+to the Government, and it was signed by General Cass.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you wish to save him?" asked a volunteer of young Lincoln.
+"Your grandfather was killed by an Indian. You are a coward!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I would do what is right by any man," said Lincoln, fiercely. "Who says
+I am a coward? I will meet him here in an open contest. Now, let the man
+who says I am a coward meet me face to face and hand to hand."</p>
+
+<p>He stood over the cowering Indian, dark, self-confident and defiant.</p>
+
+<p>"I stand for justice. Let him come on. I stand alone for right. Let him
+come on.&mdash;Main-Pogue, go!"</p>
+
+<p>Out of the camp hobbled the Indian, with the long, strong arm of Abraham
+Lincoln lifted over him. The eyes of the men followed him in anger,
+disappointment, and scorn. Hard words passed from one to the other. He
+felt for the first time in his life that he stood in this matter utterly
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Jeer on," he said. "I would shield this Indian at the cost of my life.
+I would not be a true soldier if I failed in my duty to this old man. In
+every event of life it is right that makes might; and the rights of an
+Indian are as sacred as those of any other man, and I would defend them,
+at whatever cost, as those of a white man.&mdash;Main-Pogue, go hence! Here
+will I stand between you and death."</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven bless you for protecting a poor old man! I have been a runner
+for the whites for many years, but I have never met a man like you. I
+will tell my boy of this. Your name is Lincoln?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;Abraham Lincoln, though the name matters nothing."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FOREST COLLEGE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Well, how time flies, and the clock of the year does go round! Here's
+the elder again! It's a bright day that brings ye here, though I
+shouldn't let ye sleep in the prophet's chamber, if I had one, 'cause ye
+ain't any prophet at all. But ye are right welcome just the same. Where
+is yer Indian boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's gone to his own people, Aunt Olive."</p>
+
+<p>"To whet his tommyhawk, I make no doubt. Oh, elder, how ye have been
+deceived in people! Ye believe that every one is as good as one can be,
+or can be grafted to bear sweet fruit, but, hoe-down-hoe, elder, 'taint
+so. Yer Aunt Indiana knows how desperately wicked is the human heart. If
+ye don't do others, others will do ye, and this world is a warfare. Come
+in; I've got somethin' new to tell ye. It's about the Linkens' Abe."</p>
+
+<p>The Tunker entered the cheerful cabin in the sunny clearing of the
+timber.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been savin' up the news to tell ye when ye came. Abe's been to
+war!"</p>
+
+<p>"He has not been hurt, has he?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>Hurt!</i> No, he hasn't been hurt. A great Indian fighter he proved! The
+men were all laughin' about it. He'll live to fight another day, as the
+sayin' goes, and so will the enemy. Well, I always thought that there
+was no need of killin' people. Let them alone, and they will all die
+themselves; and as for the enemy, let them alone, and they will come
+home waggin' their tails behind them, as the ditty says. Well, I must
+tell ye. Abe's been to war. He didn't see the enemy, nor fight, nor
+nothin'. But a wild Indian came right into his camp, and the soldiers
+started up to kill him, and what do ye suppose Abe did?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think he did what he thought to be right."</p>
+
+<p>"He let him go! There! what do you think of that? He just went to
+fightin' his own company to save the Indian. There's a warrior for ye!
+And that wasn't all. He talked in such a way that he frightened his own
+men, and he just gave the Indian some bread and cheese, and let him off.
+And the Indian went off blessin' him. Abe will never make a soldier or
+handle armies much, after all yer prophecies. Such a soldier as that
+ought to be rewarded a pinfeather."</p>
+
+<p>"His conduct was after the Galilean teaching&mdash;was it not?&mdash;and produced
+the result of making the Indian a friend. Was not that a good thing to
+do? Who was the Indian?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was old Main-Pogue. He was uncle, or somethin', to that boy who used
+to travel about with you, teachin' you the language&mdash;Waubeno; the old
+interpreter for General Cass's men. He'll go off and tell Waubeno. I
+wonder if Main-Pogue knew who it was that saved him, and if he will tell
+Waubeno that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln did a noble act."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, elder, ye've got a good heart, but ye're weak in yer upper story.
+That ain't all I've got to tell ye. Abe has failed, after all yer
+prophecies, too. He and another man went to keepin' store up in New
+Salem, and he let his partner cheat him, and they <i>failed</i>; and now he's
+just workin' to pay up his debts, and his partner's too."</p>
+
+<p>"And his partner's too? That shows that he saved an honest purpose out
+of losses. The greatest of all losses is a loss of integrity of purpose.
+I'm glad to hear that he has not lost that."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, elder, ye've allus somethin' good to say of that boy. But I'm not
+agin him. He's Tom Linken's son, just as I told ye; and he'll never come
+to anythin' good. He all runs to books and gabble, and goes 'round
+repeatin' poetry, which is only the lies of crazy folks. I haven't any
+use for poetry, except hymns. But he's had real trouble of late, besides
+these things, and I'm sorry for that. He's lost the girl what he was
+goin' to marry. She was a beautiful girl, and her death made him so
+downhearted that they had to shut him up and watch him to keep him from
+committin' suicide. They say that he has very melancholy spells. He
+can't help that, I don't suppose. His mother what sleeps over yonder
+under the timber was melancholy. How are all the schools that you set to
+goin' on the Wabash?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are all growing, good woman, and it fills my heart with delight to
+see them grow. They are all growing like gardens for the good of this
+great country. It does my heart good, and makes my soul happy, to start
+these Christian schools. It's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> my mission. And I try to start them
+right&mdash;character first, true views of things next, and books last; but
+the teaching of young children to think and act right spiritually is the
+highest education of all. This is best done by telling stories, and so I
+travel and travel telling stories to schools. You do not see my plan,
+but it is the true seed that I am planting, and it will bear fruit when
+I am gone to a better world than this."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ye mean well," said Aunt Olive, "but ye don't know more than some
+whole families&mdash;pardon my plainness of speech. I don't doubt that ye are
+doin' some good, after a fashion; but don't prophesy&mdash;yer prophecies in
+regard to Abe have failed already. He'll never command the American
+army, nor run the nation, nor keep store. Yer Aunt Indiana can read
+character, and her prophecies have proved true so far."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait&mdash;time tells the whole truth; and worth is worth, and passes for
+the true gold of life in time."</p>
+
+<p>"Ye don't think that there's any chance for him yet, do ye, elder, after
+lettin' the Indian go, and failin', and havin' that melancholy spell?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do. My spiritual sense tells me so."</p>
+
+<p>"Yer spiritual sense! Elder, ye ought to go to school. Ye are nothin'
+but a child yerself. And let me advise ye never to have anythin' more to
+do with that there Indian boy. Fishes don't swim on rocks, nor hawks go
+to live in a cage. An Indian is an Indian, and, mark my words, that boy
+will have yer scalp some day. He will, now&mdash;he will. I saw it in his
+eye."</p>
+
+<p>The Tunker journeyed toward the new town of Springfield, Illinois, along
+the fragrant timber and over the blooming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> prairies. Everywhere were to
+be seen the white prairie schooner and the little village of people that
+followed it.</p>
+
+<p>Springfield was but a promising village at this time, in a very fertile
+land. Probably no one ever thought that it would become a capital city
+of an empire of population, the hub of that great wheel of destiny
+rimmed by the Wabash, the Mississippi, Rock River, and the Lake; and
+still less did any one ever dream that it would be the legislative
+influence of that tall, laughing, sad-faced boy, Lincoln, who would
+produce this result.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper preached at Springfield, and visited the log school-house, and
+told stories to the little school. He then started to walk to New Salem,
+a distance of some eighteen or twenty miles.</p>
+
+<p>It was a pleasant country, and all things seemed teeming with life, for
+it was now the high tide of the year. The prairies were billows of
+flowers, and the timber was shady and cool, carpeted with mosses,
+tangled with vines, with its tops bright with sunshine and happy with
+the songs of birds.</p>
+
+<p>About half-way between the two towns Jasper saw some lofty trees, giants
+of the forest, that spread out their branches like roofs of some ancient
+temple. There were birds' nests made of sticks in their tops, and a cool
+stream ran under them. He sought the place for rest.</p>
+
+<p>As he entered the great shadow, he saw a tall young man seated on a log,
+absorbed in reading a book. He approached him, and recognized him as
+young Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to meet you here, in this beautiful place," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"This is my college," said Lincoln.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What are you studying, my friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am trying my hand at law a little. Stuart, the Springfield
+lawyer, lends me his law-books, and I walk over there from New Salem to
+get them, and when I get as far back as this I sit down on this log and
+study. I can study when I am walking. I once mastered forty pages of
+Blackstone in a walk. But I love to stop and study on this log. It is
+rather a long walk from New Salem to Springfield&mdash;almost twenty
+miles&mdash;and when I get as far back as this I feel tired. These trees are
+so grand that they look like a house of Nature, and I call them my
+college. I can't have the privileges of better-off young men, who can go
+to Philadelphia, New York, or Boston to study law, and so I do the best
+I can here. I get discouraged sometimes, but I believe that right is
+might, and do my best, and there is something that is leading me on."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to find you here, Abraham Lincoln. I love you in my heart,
+and I wish that I might help you in your studies. But I have never
+studied law."</p>
+
+<p>"But you do help me."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"By your faith in me. Elder, I have been having a hard row to hoe, and
+am an unlucky fellow. Have been keeping a grocery, and we have
+failed&mdash;failed right at the beginning of life. It hurt my pride, but,
+elder, it has not hurt my honor. I've worked and paid up all my debts,
+and now I am going to pay <i>his</i>. I might make excuses for not paying his
+part of the debts, but, elder, it would not leave my name clear. I must
+live conscience free. People call me a fool, but they trust me. They
+have made me postmaster at New Salem, though that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> ain't much of an
+office. The mail comes only once a week, and I carry it in my hat.
+They'll need a new post-office by and by."</p>
+
+<p>"My friend, you are giving yourself a moral self-education that has more
+worth than all the advantages of wealth or a famous name or the schools
+of Boston. The time will come when this growing people will need such a
+man as you to lead them, and you will lead them more grandly than others
+who have had an easier school. You have learned the first principles of
+true education&mdash;it is, the habit that can not do wrong without feeling
+the flames of torment within. Every sacrifice that you have made to your
+conscience has given you power. That power is a godlike thing. You will
+see all one day, as I do now."</p>
+
+<p>"Elder, they call me a merry-maker, but I carry with me a sad heart. I
+wish to tell you, for I feel that you are my true friend. I loved Ann
+Rutledge. She was the daughter of James Rutledge, the founder of our
+village and the owner of the mill on the Sangamon. She was a girl of a
+loving heart, gentle blood, and her face was lovely. You saw her at the
+tavern. I loved her&mdash;I loved her very name; and she is dead. It has all
+happened since you were here, and I have wished to meet you again and
+tell you all. Such things as these make me melancholy. A great darkness
+comes down upon me at times, and I am tempted to end all the bright
+dream that we call life. But I rise above the temptation. Elder, you
+don't know how my heart has had to struggle. I sometimes think of my
+poor mother's grave in the timber in Indiana, and I always think of
+<i>her</i> grave&mdash;Ann Rutledge's&mdash;and then it comes over me like a cloud,
+that there is no place for me in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> Do you want to know what I
+do in those hours, elder? I repeat a long poem. I have said it over a
+hundred times. It was written by some poet who felt as I do. I would
+like to repeat it to you, elder. I tell stories&mdash;they only make me more
+melancholy&mdash;but this poem soothes my mind. It makes me feel that other
+men have suffered before, and it makes me willing to suffer for others,
+and to accept my lot in life, whatever it may be."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to hear the poem that has so moved you," said the Tunker.</p>
+
+<p>Abraham Lincoln stood up and leaned against the trunk of one of the
+giant trees. The sunlight was sifting through the great canopy of
+leaves, boughs, and nests overhead, and afar gleamed the prairies like
+gardens of the sun. He lifted his long arm, and, with a sad face, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Elder, listen.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be scattered around, and together be laid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the young and the old, and the low and the high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'The infant a mother attended and loved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mother that infant's affection who proved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The husband that mother and infant who blest&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'[<i>The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Shone beauty and pleasure, her triumphs are by;</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And the memory of those who loved her and praised,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Are alike from the minds of the living erased</i>.]<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The herdsman who climbed with his goats up the steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beggar who wandered in search of his bread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have faded away like the grass that we tread.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'[The saint who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sinner who dared to remain unforgiven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.]<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'So the multitude goes, like the flower or the weed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That withers away to let others succeed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So the multitude comes, even those we behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To repeat every tale that has often been told.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'For we are the same our fathers have been;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We see the same sights our fathers have seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We drink the same stream, we view the same sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And run the same course our fathers have run.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the death we are shrinking our fathers would shrink;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the life we are clinging they also would cling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'They loved, but the story we can not unfold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They grieved, but no wail from their slumber will come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'They died, ay, they died: we things that are now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make in their dwellings a transient abode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still follow each other like surge upon surge.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"''Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He stood there in moody silence when he had finished the recitation,
+which was (unknown to him) from the pen of a pastoral Scotch poet. The
+Tunker looked at him, and saw how deep were his feelings, and how
+earnest were his desires to know the true way of life and to do well his
+mission, and go on with the great multitude, whose procession comes upon
+the earth and vanishes from the scenes. But he did not dream of the
+greatness of the destiny for which that student was preparing in the
+hard college of the woods.</p>
+
+<p>"My education must always be defective," said the young student. "I can
+not read law in great law-offices, like other young men, but I can be
+just&mdash;I can do right; and I would never undertake a case of law, for any
+money, that I did not think right and just. I would stand for what I
+thought was right, as I did by the old Indian, and I think that the
+people in time would learn to trust me."</p>
+
+<p>"Abraham Lincoln, to school one's conscience to the habit of right, so
+that it can not do wrong, is the first and the highest education. It is
+what one is that makes him a knight, and that is the only true
+knighthood. The highest education is that of the soul. Did you know that
+the Indian whom you saved was Main-Pogue?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"And that Main-Pogue is the uncle and foster-father of my old guide,
+Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Waubeno was the boy who came with you to the Wabash?"</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno's father was killed by the white people. He was condemned to
+death. He asked to go home to see his family once more, and returned
+upon his honor to die. That old story is true. Does it seem possible
+that an English soldier could ever take the life of an Indian like
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it does not. Will Main-Pogue tell Waubeno that it was I who saved
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Does Main-Pogue know you by name? I hope he does."</p>
+
+<p>"He may have forgotten. I would like for him to remember it, because the
+Indian boy liked me, and an Indian killed my grandfather. I liked that
+Indian boy, and I would do justice, if I could, by all men, and any
+man."</p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln, I came to love and respect that Indian boy. There was a native
+nobility in him. But my efforts to make him a Christian failed, for he
+carried revenge in his heart. I wish that he could know that it was you
+who did that deed; your character might be an influence that would
+strike an unknown cord in the boy's heart, for Waubeno has a noble
+heart&mdash;Waubeno is noble. I wish he knew who it was that spared
+Main-Pogue. Acts teach where words fail, and the true teacher is not
+lips, but life. The boy once said to me that he would cease to seek to
+avenge his father's death if he could find a single white man who would
+defend an Indian to his own harm, because it was right. Now, Lincoln,
+you have done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> just the act that would change his heart. But he has gone
+with the winds. How will he ever hear of it? How will he ever know it?</p>
+
+<p>"When Main-Pogue meets him, if he ever does again, he may tell him all.
+But does Main-Pogue understand the relations that exist between you and
+me, and us and that boy? O Waubeno, Waubeno, I would that you might hear
+of this!"</p>
+
+<p>He thought, and added: "He <i>will</i> hear of it, somehow, in some way.
+Providence makes golden keys of deeds like yours. They unlock the doors
+of mystery. Let me see, what was it Waubeno said&mdash;his exact words?
+<i>'When I find a single white man who defends an Indian to his own hurt,
+because it is right, I will promise.'</i> Lincoln, he said that. You are
+that man. Lincoln, may God bless you, and call you into his service when
+he has need of a man!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+<h3>MAKING LINCOLN A "SON OF MALTA."</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Jasper, some years later, again met Aunt Eastman, she had a yet
+more curious story to tell about Abraham.</p>
+
+<p>It was spring, and the cherry-trees were in bloom and musical with bees.
+In the yard a single apple-tree was red with blooms, which made fragrant
+the air.</p>
+
+<p>"And here comes Johnnie Apple-seed!" said Aunt Olive. "Heaven bless ye!
+I call ye Johnnie Apple-seed because ye remind me so much of that good
+man. He was a good man, if he had lost his wits; and ye mean well, just
+as he did. Smell the apple-blossoms! I don't know but it was <i>him</i> that
+planted that there tree."</p>
+
+<p>To explain Aunt Olive's remarks, we should say that there once wandered
+along the banks of the Ohio, a poor wayfaring man who had a singular
+impression of duty. He felt it to be his calling in life to plant
+apple-seeds. He would go to a farmer's house, ask for work, and remain
+at the place a few days or weeks. After he had gone, apple-seeds would
+be found sprouting about the farm. His journeys were the beginnings of
+many orchards in the Middle, West, and prairie States.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I love to smell apple-blossoms," said Aunt Olive. "It reminds me of old
+New England. I can almost hear the bells ring on the old New England
+hills when I smell apple-blooms. They say that Johnnie Apple-seed is
+dead, and that they filled his grave with apple-blooms. I don't know as
+it is so, but it ought to be. I sometimes wish that I was a poet,
+because a poet fixes things as they ought to be&mdash;makes the world all
+over right. But, la! Abe Linken was a poet. <i>Have</i> ye heard the news?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. What?&mdash;nothing bad, I hope?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>He's</i> hung out his shingle."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"In Springfield."</p>
+
+<p>"In Springfield?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, elder, I've seen it. I have traveled a good deal since I saw
+you&mdash;'round to camp-meetin', and fairs, rightin' things, and doin' all
+the good I can. I've seen it. And, elder, they've made a mock Mason on
+him."</p>
+
+<p>In the pioneer days of Illinois the making of mock Masons, or <i>pseudo</i>
+Sons of Malta, was a popular form of frolic, now almost forgotten. Young
+people formed mock lodges or secret societies, for the purpose of
+initiating new members by a series of tricks, which became the jokes of
+the community.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Aunt Olive, "and what do ye think they did? Well, in them
+societies they first test the courage of those who want to be new
+members. There's Judge Ball, now; when they tested his courage, what do
+you think? They blindfolded him, and turned up his blue jean trousers
+about the ankles, and said, 'Now let out the snakes!' and they took an
+elder-bush<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> squirt-gun and squirted water over his feet; and the water
+was cold, and he thought it was snakes, and he jumped clear up to the
+cross-beams on the chamber floor, and screamed and screamed, and they
+wouldn't have him."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper had never heard of these rude methods of making jokes and odd
+stories in the backwoods.</p>
+
+<p>"What did they do to test Abraham's courage?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know&mdash;blindfolded him and dressed him up like a donkey, and led
+him up to a lookin'-glass, and made him promise that he would never tell
+what he saw, and then <i>on</i>bandaged his eyes&mdash;or something of that kind.
+His courage stood the test. Of course it did; no matter what they might
+have done, no one could frighten Abe. But he got the best o' them."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"He took up a collection for a poor woman that he had met on the way,
+and proposed to change the society into a committee for the relief of
+the poor and sufferin'."</p>
+
+<p>"That shows his heart again."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew that you would say that, elder."</p>
+
+<p>"Everything that I hear of Lincoln shows how that his character grows.
+It is my daily prayer that Waubeno may hear of how he saved Main-Pogue.
+It would change the heart of Waubeno. He will know of it some day, and
+then he will fulfill his promise to me."</p>
+
+<p>The Tunker sat down in the door under the blooming cherry-trees, and
+Aunt Olive brought a tray of food, and they ate their supper there.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 340px;">
+<img src="images/illus-247.jpg" width="340" height="500" alt="Sarah Bush Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln&#39;s Step-mother." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Sarah Bush Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln&#39;s Step-mother.<br />
+
+After photograph taken in 1865.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Afar stretched the prairies. The larks quivered in the air, happy in the
+May-time, and gurgling with song. In the sunny outlines were seen a
+train of prairie schooners winding over the plain.</p>
+
+<p>These were rude times, when all things were new. Men were purchasing the
+future by hardship and toil. But the two religious enthusiasts presented
+a happy picture as they sat under the cherry-trees and talked of
+camp-meetings, and the inner light, and all they had experienced, and
+ate their frugal meal. Odd though their views and beliefs and habits may
+seem in some respects, each had a definite purpose of good; each lived
+in the horizon of bright prospects here and hereafter, and each was
+happy.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<h3>PRAIRIE ISLAND.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The beautiful country between Lake Michigan, or old Fort Dearborn, and
+the Mississippi, or Rock Island, was once a broad prairie, a sea of
+flowers, birds, and bright insects. The buffaloes roamed over it in
+great herds, and the buffalo-birds followed them. The sun rose over it
+as over a sea, and the arched aurora rose red above it like some far
+gate of a land of fire. Here the Sacs and Foxes roamed free; the Iowas
+and the tribes of the North. It was one vast sunland, a breeze-swept
+brightness, almost without a dot or shadow.</p>
+
+<p>Almost, but not quite. Here and there, like islands in a summer sea,
+rose dark groves of oak and vines. These spots of refreshment were
+called prairie islands, and in one of these islands, now gone, a pioneer
+colony made their homes, and built a meeting-house, which was also to be
+used as a school-house. Six or more of these families were from
+Germantown, Pennsylvania, and were Tunkers. The other families were from
+the New England States.</p>
+
+<p>To this nameless village, long ago swept away by the prairie fires, went
+Jasper the Parable, with his cobbling-tools, his stories, and his gospel
+of universal love and good-will. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> Tunkers welcomed him with delight,
+and the emigrants from New England looked upon him kindly as a good and
+well-meaning man. There were some fifteen or twenty children in the
+settlement, and here the peaceful disciple of Pestalozzi, and friend of
+Froebel, applied for a place to teach, and the school was by unanimous
+consent assigned to him.</p>
+
+<p>So began the school at Prairie Island&mdash;a school where the first
+principles of education were perceived and taught, and that might
+furnish a model for many an ambitious institution of to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"It is life that teaches," the Parable used to say, quoting Pestalozzi.
+"The first thing to do is to form the habits that lead to character; the
+next thing is to stamp the young mind with right views of life; then
+comes book-learning&mdash;words, figures, and maps&mdash;but stories that educate
+morally are the primer of life. Christ taught spiritual truths by
+parables. I teach formative ideas by parables. The teacher should be a
+story-teller. In my own country all children go through fairy-land. Here
+they teach the young figures first, as though all of life was a
+money-market. It is all unnatural and wrong. I must teach and preach by
+stories."</p>
+
+<p>The school-house was a simple building of logs and prairie grass, with
+oiled paper for windows, and a door that opened out and afforded a view
+of the vast prairie-sea to the west. Jasper taught here five days in a
+week, and sang, prayed, and exhorted on Sunday afternoons, and led
+social meetings on Sunday evenings. The little community were united,
+peaceful, and happy. They were industrious, self-respecting people, who
+were governed by their moral sense, and their governing principle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
+seemed to be the faith that, if a person desired and sought to follow
+the divine will, he would have a revelation of spiritual light, which
+would be like the opening of the gates of heaven to him. Nearly every
+man and woman had some special experience of the soul to tell; and if
+ever there was a community of simple faith and brotherhood, it was here.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper's school began in the summer, when the sun was high, the cool
+shadows of the oaks grateful, and the bluebells filled the tall, wavy
+grasses, and the prairie plover swam in the air.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper's first teaching was by the telling of stories that leave in the
+young mind right ideas and impressions.</p>
+
+<p>"My children, listen," said the gracious old man, as he sat down to his
+rude desk, "and let me tell you some stories like those Pestalozzi used
+to tell. Still, now!"</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his finger and his eyebrows, and sat a little while in
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark!" he said. "Hear the birds sing in the trees! Nature is teaching
+us. When Nature is teaching I listen. Nature is a greater teacher than
+I, or any man."</p>
+
+<p>The little school sat in silence and listened. They had never heard the
+birds sing in that way before. Presently there was a hush in the trees.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I will begin," said he.</p>
+
+
+<p><i>PESTALOZZI'S STORIES.</i></p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever see a mushroom? Yes, there are mushrooms under the cool
+trees. Once, in the days when the plants and flowers and trees all
+talked&mdash;they talk now, but we have ceased<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> to hear them, a little
+mushroom bowed in the winds, and said to the grass:</p>
+
+<p>"'See how I grow! I came up in a single night. I am smart.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes,' said the grass, waving gently.</p>
+
+<p>"'But you,' said the smart little mushroom, 'it takes you a whole year
+to grow.'</p>
+
+<p>"The grass was sorry that it took so long for it to grow, and hung its
+head, and thought, and thought.</p>
+
+<p>"'But,' said the grass, 'you spring up in the night, and in a day or two
+you are gone. It takes me a year to grow, but I outlive a hundred crops
+of mushrooms. I will have patience and be content. Worth is of slow
+growth.'</p>
+
+<p>"In a week the boastful little mushroom was gone, but the grass bloomed
+and bore seed, and left a lovely memory behind it. Hark! hear the breeze
+in the trees! Nature is teaching now. Listen!</p>
+
+<p>"Now I will tell you another little story, such as I used to hear
+Pestalozzi relate. I am going to tell this story to myself, but you may
+listen. I have told a story to you, but now I will talk to myself.</p>
+
+<p>"There once was a king, who had been riding in the sun, and he saw afar
+a lime-tree, full of cool, green leaves. Oh, how refreshing it looked to
+him! So he rode up to the lime-tree, and rested in the shadow.</p>
+
+<p>"The leaves all clung to the branches, and the winds whispered among
+them, but did not blow them away.</p>
+
+<p>"Then the king loved the tree, and he said:</p>
+
+<p>"'O tree, would that my people clung to me as thy leaves do to thy
+branches!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The tree was pleased, and spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"'Would you learn from me wisdom to govern thy people?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, O lime-tree! Speak on.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Would you know, then, what makes my leaves so cling to my branches?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, O Lime Tree! Speak on.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I carry to them the sap that nourishes them. 'Tis he that gives
+himself to others that lives in others, and is safe and happy himself.
+Do that, and thy kingdom shall be a lime-tree.'"</p>
+
+<p>A child brought into the room a bunch of harebells and laid them upon
+the teacher's desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Look!" said Jasper, "Nature is teaching. Let us be quiet a little and
+hear what she has to say. The harebells bring us good-will from the sun
+and skies. There is goodness everywhere, and for all. Let us be
+grateful.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I will give you another little Pestalozzian story, told in my own
+way, and you may tell it to your fathers and mothers and neighbors when
+you go home.</p>
+
+<p>"There was once a man who had two little ponies. They were pretty
+creatures, and just alike. He sold one of them to a hard-hearted man,
+who kicked him and beat him; and the pony said:</p>
+
+<p>"'The man is my enemy. I will be his, and become a cunning and vicious
+horse.'</p>
+
+<p>"So the pony became cunning and vicious, and threw his rider and
+crippled him, and grew spavined and old, and every one was glad when he
+was dead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The man sold the other pony to a noble-hearted man, who treated him
+kindly and well. Then the pony said:</p>
+
+<p>"'I am proud of my master. I will become a good horse, and my master's
+will shall be my own.'</p>
+
+<p>"Like the master became the horse. He became strong and beautiful. They
+chose him for the battle, and he went through the wars, and the master
+slept by his side. He bore his master at last in a triumphal procession,
+and all the people were sorry when he came to die. Our minds here are
+one of the little colts.</p>
+
+<p>"So we will all work together. The lesson is ended. You have all the
+impressions that you can bear for one day. Now we will go out and play."</p>
+
+<p>But the play-ground was made a field of teaching.</p>
+
+<p>"There are plays that form right ideas," said Jasper, "and plays that
+lead to an evil character. I teach no plays that lead to cruelty or
+deception. I would no sooner withhold amusements from my little ones
+than water, but my amusements, like the water, must be healthy and
+good."</p>
+
+<p>There was one odd play that greatly delighted all the children of the
+Prairie Island school. The idea of it was evolved in the form of a
+popular song many years afterward. In it the children are supposed to
+ask an old German musician how many instruments of music he could play,
+and he acts out in pantomime all of the instruments he could blow or
+handle. We think it was this merriment that became known in America as
+the song of Johnnie Schmoker in the minstrel days.</p>
+
+<p>Not the children only, but the parents also all delighted to see Jasper
+pretend to play all the instruments of the German<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> band. Often at
+sunset, when the settlers came in from the corn-fields and rested under
+the great trees, Jasper would delight the islanders, as they called
+themselves, with this odd play.</p>
+
+<p>"The purpose of education," Jasper used to repeat over and over to his
+friends in this sunny island of the prairie sea, "is not to teach the
+young how to make money or get wealth by a cunning brain, but how to
+live for the soul. The soul's best interests are in life's highest
+interest, and there is no poverty in the world that is like spiritual
+poverty. In the periods of poetry a nation is great; and when poetry
+fails, the birds cease to sing and the flowers to bloom, and divinities
+go away, and the heart turns to stone."</p>
+
+<p>There was one story that he often repeated to his little school. The
+pupils liked it because there was action in it, as in the play-story of
+the German musician. He called it "<span class="smcap">Chink, Chink, Chink</span>"&mdash;though we
+believe a somewhat similar story is told in Germany under the name of
+"The Stone-cold Heart."</p>
+
+<p>He would clasp his hands together and strike them upon his knee, making
+a sound like the jingling of silver coin. Any one can produce this
+curious sound by the same action.</p>
+
+<p>"Chink, chink, chink," he would say. "Do you hear it? Chink, chink,
+chink. Listen, as I strike my hands on my knees. Money? Now I will open
+my hands. There is no money in them; it was fool's gold, all.</p>
+
+<p>"There lived in a great German forest a poor woodman. He was a giant,
+but he had a great heart and a willing arm, and he worked contentedly
+for many years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One day he chanced to go with some foresters into the city. It was a
+festival day. He heard the jingle of money, just like that" (striking
+his clasped hands on his knee). "He saw what money would buy. He thought
+it would buy happiness. He did not know that it was fool's gold, all.</p>
+
+<p>"He went back to his little hut in the forest feeling very unhappy. His
+wife kissed him on his return, and his children gathered around him to
+hear him tell the adventures of the day, but his downcast spirit made
+them all sad.</p>
+
+<p>"'What has happened?' asked his wife. 'You always seemed happy until
+to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And I was always happy until to-day. But I have seen the world to-day,
+and now I want that which will buy everything.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And what is that?' asked his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"'Listen! It sounds like that,' and he struck his clasped hands on his
+knee&mdash;chink, chink, chink. 'If I had that, I would bring to you and the
+little ones the fine things I saw in the city, and you would be happy.
+You are contented now because you do not know.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But I would rather that you would bring to me a happy face and loving
+heart,' said his wife. 'You know that the Book says that "a man's life
+consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Love
+makes happiness, and gold is in the heart.'</p>
+
+<p>"The forester continued to be sad. He would sit outside of his door at
+early evening and pound his hands upon his knees so&mdash;chink, chink,
+chink&mdash;and think of the gay city.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> Then he would strike his hands on his
+knees again. He did not know that it was fool's gold, all.</p>
+
+<p>"He grew more and more discontented with his simple lot. One day he went
+out into the forest alone to cut wood. When he had become tired he sat
+down by a running stream to hear the birds sing and to strike his hands
+on his knees.</p>
+
+<p>"A shadow came gliding across the mosses of the stream. It was like the
+form of a dark man. Slowly it came on, and as it did so the flowers on
+the banks of the stream withered. The woodman looked up, and a black
+giant stood before him.</p>
+
+<p>"'You look unhappy to-day,' said the black giant. 'You did not use to
+look that way. What is wanting?'</p>
+
+<p>"The woodman looked down, clasped his hands, and struck them on his
+knees&mdash;chink, chink, chink.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ah, I see&mdash;money! The world all wants money. Selfishness could not
+thrive without money. I will give you all the money that you want, on
+one condition.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Name it.'</p>
+
+<p>"'That you will exchange your heart.'</p>
+
+<p>"'What will you give me for my heart?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Your heart is a human heart, a very simple human heart. I will put in
+its place a heart of stone, and then all your wishes shall turn to gold.
+Whatever you wish you shall have.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Shall I be happy?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Happy! Ha, ha, ha! are not people happy who have their wishes?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Some are, and some are happy who give up their wishes and wills and
+desires."</p>
+
+<p>"The woodman leaned his face upon his hands for a while,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> seemed in
+great doubt and distress. He thought of his wife, who used to say that
+contentment was happiness, and that one could be rich by having a few
+wants. Then he thought of the city. The vision rose before him like a
+Vanity Fair. He clasped his hands again, and struck them on his
+knees&mdash;chink, chink, chink&mdash;and said, 'I will do it.'</p>
+
+<p>"Suddenly he felt a heart within him as cold as stone. He looked up to
+the giant, and saw that he held his own good, true heart in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"'I will put it away in a glass jar in my house,' he said, 'where I keep
+the hearts of the rich. Now, listen. You have only to strike your locked
+hands on your knees three times&mdash;chink, chink, chink&mdash;whenever you want
+for gold, and wish, and you will find your pockets full of money.'</p>
+
+<p>"The woodman struck his palms on his knees and wished, then felt in his
+pockets. Sure enough, his pockets were full of gold.</p>
+
+<p>"He thought of his wife, but his thought was a cold one; he did not love
+her any more. He thought of his little ones, but his thoughts were
+frozen; he did not care to meet them any more. He thought of his
+parents, but he only wished to meet them to excite their envy. The
+stream no longer charmed him, nor the flowers, nor the birds, nor
+anything.</p>
+
+<p>"'I will dissemble,' he said. He hurried home. His wife met him at the
+door. He kissed her. She started back, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Your lips are cold as death! What has happened?'</p>
+
+<p>"His children kissed him, but they said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Father, your cheeks are cold.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He tried to pray at the meal, but his sense of God was gone; he did not
+love God, or his wife, or his children, or anything any more&mdash;he had a
+stone-cold heart.</p>
+
+<p>"After the evening meal he told his wife the events of the day. She
+listened with horror.</p>
+
+<p>"'In parting with your heart you have parted with everything that makes
+life worth having,' said she. But he answered:</p>
+
+<p>"'I do not care. I do not care for anything but gold now. I have a
+stone-cold heart.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But will gold make you happy?' she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"He started. He went forth to work the next day, but he was not happy.
+So day by day passed. His gold did not make his family happy, or his
+friends, or any one, but he would not have cared for all these, for he
+had a stone-cold heart. Had it made him happy? He saw the world all
+happy around him, and heavier and heavier grew his heart, and at last he
+could endure it no longer.</p>
+
+<p>"One day he was sitting in the same place in the woods as before, when
+he saw the shadowy figure stealing along the mosses of the stream again.
+He looked up and beheld the giant, and exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"'Give me back my heart!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you learned the lesson?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INDIAN PLOT.</h3>
+
+
+<p>One sultry August night a party of Sac and Fox Indians were encamped in
+a grove of oaks opposite Rock Island, on the western side of the
+Mississippi. Among them were Main-Pogue and Waubeno.</p>
+
+<p>The encampment commanded a view of the burial hills and bluffs of the
+abandoned Sac village.</p>
+
+<p>As the shadow of night stole over the warm, glimmering twilight, and the
+stars came out, the lights in the settlers' cabins began to shine; and
+as the Indians saw them one by one, their old resentment against the
+settlers rose and bitter words passed, and an old warrior stood up to
+rehearse his memories of the injustice that his race had suffered in the
+old treaties and the late war.</p>
+
+<p>"Look," he said, "at the eyes of the cabins that gleam from yonder
+shore. The waters roll dark under them, but the lights of the canoes no
+more haunt the rapids, and the women and children may no more sit down
+by the graves of the braves of old. Our lights have gone out; their
+lights shine. Their lights shine on the bluffs, and they twinkle like
+fireflies along the prairies, and climb the cliffs in what was once the
+Red<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> Man's Paradise. Like the fireflies to the night the white settlers
+came.</p>
+
+<p>"Rise up and look down into the water. There&mdash;where the stream runs
+dark&mdash;they shot our starving women there, for crossing the river to
+harvest their own corn.</p>
+
+<p>"Look again&mdash;there where the first star shines. She, the wife of Wabono,
+floated there dead, with the babe on her breast. Here is the son of
+Wabono.</p>
+
+<p>"Son of Wabono, you ride the pony like the winds. What are you going to
+do to avenge your mother? You have nourished the babe; you are good and
+brave; but the moons rise and fall, and the lights grow many on the
+prairie, and the smoke-wreaths many along the shore. Speak, son of
+Wabono."</p>
+
+<p>A tall boy arose, dressed in yellow skins and painted and plumed.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, it is long since the rain fell."</p>
+
+<p>"Long."</p>
+
+<p>"And the prairies are yellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Yellow."</p>
+
+<p>"And they are food for fire."</p>
+
+<p>"Food for fire."</p>
+
+<p>"I would touch them with fire&mdash;in the east, in the west, in the north,
+and in the south. The lights will go out in the cabins, and the white
+woman will wander homeless, and the white man will hunger for corn. They
+shot our people for harvesting our corn. I would give their corn-fields
+to the flames, and their families to the famine in the moons of
+storms."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, you have heard Wabono. What would <i>you</i> do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would punish those only who have done wrong. The white teacher taught
+so, and the white teacher was right."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, you speak like a woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Those people should not suffer for what others have done. You should
+not be made to bear the punishments of others."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you not fire the prairies?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I may have friends there. The Tunker may be there. He who spared
+Main-Pogue may be there. Would I burn their cabins? No!"</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, who was your father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am the son of Alknomook."</p>
+
+<p>"He died."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father."</p>
+
+<p>"There was neither pity nor mercy in the white man's heart for him. You
+made your vow to him. What was that vow, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"To avenge his enemies&mdash;not our friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Brothers, listen. The white men grow many, and we are few. In war we
+are helpless&mdash;only one weapon remains to us now. It is the
+thunderbolt&mdash;it is fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Warriors, listen. The moon grows. Who of you will cross the river and
+ride once more into the Red Man's Paradise, and give the prairies to the
+flames? The torch is all that is left us now."</p>
+
+<p>Every Indian raised his arm except Main-Pogue and Waubeno, and signified
+his desire to unite in the plan for the desolation of the prairies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Main-Pogue, will you carry your torch in the night of fire?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been saved by the hand of a white man, and I will not turn my
+hand against the white man. I could not do it if I were young. But I am
+old&mdash;my people are gone. Leave me to fall like the leaf."</p>
+
+<p>"Son of Alknomook, what will you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will follow your counsel for my father's sake, but I will spare my
+friends for the sake of the arm that was stretched out over the head of
+Main-Pogue."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will go."</p>
+
+<p>"I would that I were dead. I would that I could live as the white
+teacher taught me&mdash;in peace with every one. I would that I had not this
+blood of fire, and this memory of darkness, and this vow upon my head.
+The white teacher taught me that all people were brothers. My brain
+burns&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Late in the evening Waubeno went to Main-Pogue and sat down by his side
+under the trees. The river lay before them with its green islands and
+rapid currents, serene and beautiful. The lights had gone out on the
+other shore, and the world seemed strangely voiceless and still.</p>
+
+<p>"How did <i>he</i> look, Waubeno?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who look?"</p>
+
+<p>"That man who saved you&mdash;stretched his arm over you."</p>
+
+<p>"His arm was long. His face was as sad as an Indian's; and he was tall.
+He was a head taller than other men; he rose over them like an oak over
+the trees. The men laughed at him; then his face looked as though it was
+set against the people&mdash;he looked like a chief&mdash;and the men cowered,
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> jeered, and cowered. I can see how he looked, but I can not tell
+it&mdash;I can see it in my mind. I told him that I would tell Waubeno, and
+he seemed to know your name. Did you never meet such a man?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, in the Indiana country. He was journeyed from the Wabash."</p>
+
+<p>The Indians, after the council we have described, began to cross the
+Mississippi by night, and to make stealthy journeys into the Rock River
+country, once known as the Red Man's Paradise. Rock River is a beautiful
+stream of the prairies. It comes dashing out of a bed of rocks, and runs
+a distance of some two hundred miles to the Mississippi. Here once
+roamed the deer and came the wild cattle in herds. Here rose great
+cliffs, like ruins of castles, which were then, as now, cities of the
+swallows. Eagles built their nests upon them, and wheeled from over the
+flowers of the prairies. The banks in summer were lined with wild
+strawberries and wild sunflowers. Here and there were natural mounds and
+park-like woods, and oaks whose arms were tangled with grapevines.</p>
+
+<p>Into this country ran Black Hawk's trail, and not far from this trail
+was Prairie Island, with its happy settlers and new school. The German
+school-master might well love the place. Margaret Fuller (Countess
+Ossoli) came to the region in 1843, and caught its atmosphere and
+breathed it forth in her Summer in the Lakes. Here, in this territory of
+the Red Man's Paradise, "to me enchanting beyond any I have ever seen,"
+where "you have only to turn up the sod to find arrow-heads," she
+visited the bluff of the Eagles' Nest on the morning of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> Fourth of
+July, and there wrote "Ganymede to his Eagle," one of her grandest
+poems.</p>
+
+<p>"How happy," says this gifted soul, "the Indians must have been here! I
+do believe Rome and Florence are suburbs compared to this capital of
+Nature's art."</p>
+
+<p>Black Hawk's trail ran from this region of perfect beauty to the
+Mississippi; and long after the Sacs and Foxes were compelled to live
+beyond the Mississippi, the remnants of the tribes loved to return and
+visit the scenes of the land of their fathers.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians who had plotted the firing of the prairies made two stealthy
+journeys along the Rock River and over the old trail under the August
+moon. In one of these they rode round Prairie Island, and encamped one
+night upon the bluff of the Eagles' Nest, under the moon and stars.
+Waubeno went with them, and gazed with sad eyes upon the scenes that had
+passed forever from the control of his people.</p>
+
+<p>He saw the new cabins and corn-fields, the prairie wagons and the
+emigrants. One evening he passed Prairie Island, and saw the lights
+glimmering among the trees, and heard the singing of a hymn in the
+school-house, where the people had met to worship. He wished that his
+own people might be taught these better ways of living. He reined up his
+pony and listened to the singing. He wished that he might join the
+little company, though he did not know that Jasper was there.</p>
+
+<p>He rode away amid the stacks and corn-fields. He saw that the fields
+were dry as powder.</p>
+
+<p>Out on the prairie he turned and looked back on the lights of the
+settlement as they glimmered among the trees. Could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> he apply the torch
+to the dry sea of grasses around the peaceful homes?</p>
+
+<p>Once, revenge would have made it a delight to his eyes to see such a
+settlement in flames. But Jasper's teaching had created a new view of
+life and a new conscience. He felt what the Tunker taught was true, and
+that the young soldier who had spared Main-Pogue had done a nobler deed
+than any act of revenge. What was that young man's motive? He pondered
+over these things, and gave his pony a loose rein, and rode on under the
+cool cover of the night under the moon and stars.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>FOR LINCOLN'S SAKE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"The prairie is on fire!" So cried a horseman, as he rode by the school.</p>
+
+<p>It was a calm, glimmering September day. Prairie Island rose with red
+and yellow and crisping leaves, like a royal tent amid a dead sea of
+flowers. The prairie grass was dry, though still mingled with a green
+undergrowth. Prairie chickens were everywhere, quails, and plover.</p>
+
+<p>At midday a billowy cloud of smoke began to wall the eastern horizon,
+and it slowly rolled forward, driven by the current of the air.</p>
+
+<p>"O-o-oh!" said one of the scholars! "Look! look! What the man said is
+true&mdash;the prairie <i>is</i> on fire!"</p>
+
+<p>Jasper went to the door. The blue sky had turned to an ashy hue, and the
+sun was a dull red. An unnatural wind had arisen like a draft of air.</p>
+
+<p>"Teacher, can we go out and look?" asked several voices.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jasper, "the school may take a recess."</p>
+
+<p>The pupils went to the verge of the trees, and watched the billowy
+columns of smoke in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>The world seemed to change. The air filled with flocks of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> frightened
+birds. The sky became veiled, and the sun was as red as blood.</p>
+
+<p>Since the great snow of 1830 but few buffaloes had been seen on the
+prairie. But a dark cloud of flesh came bounding over the prairie grass,
+bellowing, with low heads and erect tails. The children thought that
+they were cattle at first, but they were buffaloes. They rushed toward
+the trees of Prairie Island, turned, and looked behind. Then the leader
+pawed the earth, and the herd rushed on toward the north.</p>
+
+<p>The fire spread in a semicircle, and seemed to create a wind which
+impelled it on with resistless fury.</p>
+
+<p>"O-o-oh, look! look!" exclaimed another scholar. "See the horses and the
+cattle&mdash;droves of them! Look at the sky&mdash;see the birds!"</p>
+
+<p>There were droves of cattle hurrying in every direction. The men in the
+fields near Prairie Island came hurrying home.</p>
+
+<p>"The prairie is on fire!" said each one, not knowing what else to say.</p>
+
+<p>"Will it reach us?" asked Jasper of the harvesters.</p>
+
+<p>"What is to hinder it? The wind is driving it this way. It has formed a
+wall of fire that almost surrounds us."</p>
+
+<p>"What can we do?" asked Jasper. The harvesters considered.</p>
+
+<p>"We are safer here than elsewhere, let what will come," said one. "If
+the fire sweeps the prairie, it would overtake us before we could get to
+any great river, and the small creeks are dry."</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon grew darker and darker. The sun went out;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> under the black
+smoke rolled a red sea whose waves grew nearer and nearer. The children
+began to cry and the women to pray. An old man came hobbling out to the
+arch of the trees.</p>
+
+<p>"I foretold it," said he. "The world is on fire. The Day of Judgment has
+come! A time and times time, and a half."</p>
+
+<p>He had been a Millerite.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be here in an hour," said a harvester.</p>
+
+<p>But there arose a counter-wind. The wall of fire seemed to be stayed.
+The smoke columns rose to the heavens like Babel towers.</p>
+
+<p>Afar, families were seen fleeing on horseback toward the bed of a creek
+which they hoped to find flowing, but which had run dry.</p>
+
+<p>"This is awful!" said Jasper. "It looks as though the heavens were in
+flames."</p>
+
+<p>He shaded his hands and looked into the open space.</p>
+
+<p>"What is that?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>A black horse came running toward the island, bounding through the grass
+as though impelled by spurs. As he leered, Jasper saw the form of a
+human being stretched at his side. Was the form an Indian?</p>
+
+<p>On came the horse. He leered again, exposing to view a yellow body and a
+plumed head.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an Indian," said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>The fire flattened and darkened for a time, and then rolled on again.
+Animals were fleeing everywhere, plunging and bellowing, and the air was
+wild and tempestuous with the cries of birds. The little animals could
+be seen leaping out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> prairie grass. The earth, air, and sky
+seemed alive with terror.</p>
+
+<p>The black horse came plunging toward the island.</p>
+
+<p>"How can a horse run that way and live?" asked Jasper. "He is bearing a
+messenger. It is friendly or hostile Indian that is clinging to his
+side."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper bent his eyes on the plunging animal to see him leer, for
+whenever the sidling motion was made it brought to view the tawny
+horizontal form that seemed to be clinging to the bridle, as if riding
+for life. Suddenly there arose a cry from the islanders:</p>
+
+<p>"Look! look! Who has done it? There is a counter-fire ahead. <i>They</i> will
+all perish!"</p>
+
+<p>A mile or more in front of the island, and in the opposite direction
+from the other fire, another great billow of smoke arose spirally into
+the air. The people and animals who had been fleeing toward the creek,
+which they thought contained water, but which was dry, all turned and
+came running toward the island grove. Even the birds came beating back.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>That</i> fire was set by the Indians," said the harvesters. "It is
+started across the track of the other fire to destroy us all. An Indian
+set the fires."</p>
+
+<p>"That is an Indian skirting around us on the back of a horse," said
+another. "He is holding on to the horse by the mane with his hands, and
+by the flanks with his feet. The Indians have done this!"</p>
+
+<p>"The other fire will run back, though against the wind. The prairie is
+so dry that the fire will run everywhere. We must set a counter-fire."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Set a counter-fire!" exclaimed many voices.</p>
+
+<p>The purpose of the counter-fire was to destroy the dry grass, so that
+when the other fires should reach the place it would find nothing to
+burn.</p>
+
+<p>"But the people!" said Jasper. "See them! They are hurrying here; a
+counter-fire would drive them away!"</p>
+
+<p>An awful scene followed. Horses, cattle, animals of many kinds came
+panting to the island. Many of them had been fleeing for miles, and sank
+down under the trees as if ready to perish. There was one enormous bison
+among them. The tops of the trees were filled with birds, cawing and
+uttering a chaos of cries. The air seemed to rain birds, and the earth
+to pour forth animals. The sky above turned to inky blackness. Men,
+women, and children came rushing into the trees from every direction,
+some crying on Heaven for mercy, some begging for water, all of them
+exhausted and seemingly ready to die. The island grove was like a great
+funeral pyre.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper lifted his hands and called the school and the people around him,
+knelt down, and prayed for help amid the cries of distress that rose on
+every hand. He then looked for the black horse and the plumed rider
+again.</p>
+
+<p>They were drawing near in the darkening air. The figure of the rider was
+more distinct. The people saw it, and cried, "An Indian!" Some said, "It
+is a scout!" and others, "It is he who set the fire!"</p>
+
+<p>The wind rose and changed, caused by the heated air in the distance. The
+currents ran hither and thither like drafts in a room of open doors. One
+of these unnatural drafts caused a new terror to spread among the people
+and animals and birds. It drew up into the air a great column of sparks
+and, scattered them through the open space, and a rain of fire filled
+the sky and descended upon the grove.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;">
+<img src="images/illus-272.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt="The Approach of the Mysterious Indian." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Approach of the Mysterious Indian.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was a splendid but terrible sight.</p>
+
+<p>"The end of all things is at hand," said the old Millerite. "The stars
+are beginning to fall."</p>
+
+<p>But the rain of fire lost its force as it neared the earth, and it fell
+in cinders and ashes.</p>
+
+<p>"An Indian! an Indian!" cried many voices.</p>
+
+<p>The black horse came plunging into near view, and rushed for the trees
+and sank down with foaming sides and mouth. The people shouted. There
+rolled from his side the lithe and supple form of a young Indian,
+plumed, and dressed in yellow buckskin. What did it mean? The Indian lay
+on the ground like one dead. The people gathered around him, and Jasper
+came to him and bent over him, and parted the black hair from his face.
+Suddenly Jasper started back and uttered a cry.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked the people.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my old Indian guide&mdash;it is Waubeno. Bring him water, and we will
+revive him, and he will tell us what to do.&mdash;Waubeno! Waubeno!"</p>
+
+<p>The Indian seemed to know that voice. He revived, and looked around him,
+and stared at the people.</p>
+
+<p>"Give him water," said Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>A boy brought a cup of water and offered it to the Indian. The latter
+started up, and cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Away! I am here to die among you. My tongue burns, but I did not come
+here to drink. I came here to die. The white man killed my father, and I
+have come back with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> avengers, and we have brought with us the
+Judgment Day." He stood and listened to the cries of distress.</p>
+
+<p>"Hear the trees cry for help&mdash;all the birds of the prairie&mdash;but they cry
+for naught. My father hears them cry. The cry is sweet to his ears. He
+is waiting for me. We are all about to die. When the wheat-fields blaze
+and the stacks take fire, and the houses crackle, then we shall all die.
+So says Waubeno." He listened again.</p>
+
+<p>"Hear the earth cry&mdash;all the animals. My father hears&mdash;his soul hears.
+This is the day that I have carried in my soul. My spirit is in the
+fire."</p>
+
+<p>He listened again. The prairie roared with the hot air, the flames, and
+the clouds of smoke. There fell another rain of fire, and women shrieked
+for mercy, and children cried on their mothers' breasts.</p>
+
+<p>"Hear the people cry! I have waited for that cry for a hundred moons. I
+have paid my vow. We have kindled the fire of the anger of the
+heavens&mdash;it is coming. I will die with you like the son of a warrior.
+The souls of the warriors are gathering to see me die. I am Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>The people pressed upon him, and glared at him.</p>
+
+<p>"He set the fire!" they cried. "The Indian fiend!"</p>
+
+<p>"I set the fire," he said; "I and Black Hawk's men. <i>They</i> have escaped.
+I have done my work, and I want to die."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper lifted his hat, and with bared head stood forth in the view of
+the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, do you want to see <i>me</i> die?"</p>
+
+<p>He started with a cry of pain. His eyes burned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My father&mdash;I did not know that you were here. Heaven pity Waubeno now!"</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, this is cruel!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cruel? This country was once called the Red Man's Paradise. Cruel? The
+white man made the red man drunk with fire-water, and made him sign a
+false treaty, and then drove him away. Cruel? Think of the women the
+whites shot in the river for coming back to their own corn-fields
+starving to gather their own corn. Cruel? Why is the Red Man's Paradise
+no longer ours? Cruel? The Rock River flows for us no more; the spring
+brings the flowers to these prairies for us no more; the bluff rises in
+the summer sky, but the red man may no longer sit upon it. Cruel? Think
+how your people murdered my father. Is it more cruel for the Indian to
+do these things than for the white man to do them? You have emptied the
+Red Man's Paradise, and Waubeno has fulfilled the vow that he made to
+his father. The clouds are on fire. I would have saved you had I known,
+but you must perish with your people. I shall die with you. I am
+Waubeno. I am proud to be Waubeno. I am the avenger of my race.</p>
+
+<p>"But, white brother, listen. I tried to prevent it. I remembered your
+teaching, and I tried to prevent it by our council-fires over the
+Mississippi. Main-Pogue tried to prevent it. I thought of the man who
+saved him in the war, and I wondered who he was, and tried to prevent it
+for <i>his</i> sake.</p>
+
+<p>"Then said they to me: 'We go to avenge the loss of our country, the Red
+Man's Paradise. The grass is feathers. We go to burn. Waubeno, remember
+your father's death. You are the son of Alknomook!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"White brother, I have come. I tried to prevent it, but this hand has
+obeyed the voice of my people. I have kindled the fires of the woe. The
+world is on fire. I tried to prevent it, but it has come."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, do you remember <i>Lincoln</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln? The Indians killed his father's father. I have often thought
+of that. He said that he would do right by an Indian. I have thought of
+that. I love that man. I would die for such a man."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, who saved the life of Main-Pogue?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, father. I would die for <i>that man</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Did Main-Pogue not tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"He told me 'twas a white captain saved him. Is the white captain here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Waubeno, listen. That white captain was Lincoln."</p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln? Whose father's father the red man killed? Was it he who saved
+Main-Pogue? Lincoln? He forced his men to do right. He did himself
+harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he did himself harm to do right. Waubeno, do you remember your
+promise that you made to me? You said that you would never avenge the
+death of your father, if you could find one white man who would do
+himself harm for the sake of an Indian."</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno leaped upon his feet, and his black eye swept the clouds, and
+the circle of fire, and the distressed people on every hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, I can save you now. I know how. I will do it <i>for Lincoln's
+sake</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho! ho!" he cried. "Kill me an ox, and Waubeno will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> save you. Kill me
+six oxen, and Waubeno will save you. Give me raw hides, and do as I do,
+and Waubeno will save you. Ho! ho! The gods have spoken to Waubeno. A
+voice comes from the sky to Waubeno. It has spoken here. Ho! ho!"</p>
+
+<p>He put his hand upon his heart, then rushed in among the oxen. A company
+of men followed him.</p>
+
+<p>He slew an ox with his knife, and quickly removed the hide. The people
+looked upon him with horror; they thought him demented. What was he
+doing? What was he going to do?</p>
+
+<p>He tied the great hide to his horse's neck, so that the raw side of it
+would drag flat upon the ground, and, turning to Jasper, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"That will smother fire. Ho! ho! How?"</p>
+
+<p>The fire was fast approaching some stacks of wheat on the edge of the
+settlement. Waubeno saw the peril, and leaped upon his horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Kill more cattle. Get more hides for Waubeno," he said.</p>
+
+<p>He rode away toward the stacks, guiding the horse in such a way that the
+raw hide swept the ground. The people watched him. He seemed to ride
+into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"He is riding to death!" said the people. "He is mad!"</p>
+
+<p>But as he rode the fire was stayed, and a rim of black smoke rose in its
+stead. Near the stacks the fire stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"He is the Evil One himself," said the old Millerite. "That Indian boy
+is no human form."</p>
+
+<p>Out of the black came the horse plunging, bearing the boy, who waved his
+hands to the people. Then the horse plunged away, as though wild, toward
+the outer edge of the great sea of fire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The horse and rider rushed into the flames, and the same strange effects
+followed. The running flame and white cloud changed into black smoke,
+and the destruction was arrested.</p>
+
+<p>The people watched the boy as he rode half hidden in rolling smoke, his
+red plumes waving above the verge of the flaming sea. What a scene it
+was as he rode there, round and round, like the enchanted form of a more
+than human deliverer! But the effect of his movements at last ceased.</p>
+
+<p>"He is coming back," said the people.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the fire rushed the horse and rider toward the island grove
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me new hides!" he cried, as, singed and blackened, he swept into
+the trees. "The hide is dead and shriveled. Give me new hides. Ho! ho!"</p>
+
+<p>New hides were provided by killing oxen. He tied two together like a
+carpet, with the raw side upon the earth. He attached them by a long
+rope to the horse's neck, and dashed forth again, crying:</p>
+
+<p>"Do the same, and follow me."</p>
+
+<p>The horse seemed maddened again. It flew toward the fire as if drawn by
+a spell, and plunged into it like a bather into the sea. Waubeno tried
+to deaden the fire in the whole circle. Round and round the island he
+rode, in the tide of the advancing flames. The people understood his
+method now, and the men secured new hides and attached them to horses,
+and followed him. He led them, crying and waving his hands. Round and
+round he led them, round and round, and where they rode the white smoke
+changed into black smoke and the fire died.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The people secured raw hides by killing the poor cattle, and came out to
+the verge of the fiery sea and checked the progress of the flames in
+places. In the midst of the excitement a roll of thunder was heard in
+the sky.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis the trumpet of doom," said the old Millerite.</p>
+
+<p>The people heard it with terror, and yet with hope. It might be an
+approaching shower. If it were, they were saved.</p>
+
+<p>The fire in front of them was checked. Not the great sea, but the
+current that was rolling toward the island grove. The fire at the north
+was rushing forward, but it moved backward toward the place slowly. The
+women began to soak blankets and clothing in water, and so prepared to
+help the men fight the flames. An hour passed. In the midst of the
+crisis the riding men, the hurrying women, the encircling fire, the
+billows of smoke, a flame came zigzagging down from the sky. The people
+stood still. Had the last day indeed come?</p>
+
+<p>Then followed a crash of thunder that shook the earth. The people fell
+upon their knees. The sky darkened, and great drops of rain began to
+fall.</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno had checked the current of the flame that would have destroyed
+the settlement in an hour, and had taught the men how to arrest an
+advancing tide of flame. The people began to have hope. All was now
+activity on the part of the people. Smoke filled the sky.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a cloud above the smoke," said many. "God will save us all."</p>
+
+<p>Waubeno came flying back again to the grove.</p>
+
+<p>"It thunders," he cried. "The Rain-god is coming. If I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> can keep back
+the fire an hour, the Rain-god will come. Hides! hides! Quick, more
+hides! Ho! ho!"</p>
+
+<p>New hides were provided, and he swept forth again.</p>
+
+<p>The island grove was now like a vast oven. The air was stifling. The
+animals laid down and rolled their tongues from their mouths. But the
+fire in front did not advance. It seemed deadened. The river of flame
+forked and ran in other directions, but it was stayed in front of the
+grove, houses, corn-fields, and stacks, and it was the hand that had set
+flames that had broken its force in the road to the settlements.</p>
+
+<p>There were sudden dashes of rain, and the smoke turned into blackness
+everywhere. Another flash of lightning smote the gloom, followed by a
+rattling of thunder that seemed as if the spirit of the storm was
+driving his chariot through the air. Then it poured as though a lake was
+coming down. In an hour the fire was dead. The cloud parted, the
+slanting sun came out, revealing a prairie as black as ink.</p>
+
+<p>The people fled to the shelter of the houses and sheds at the approach
+of the rain. The animals crowded under the trees, and the birds hid in
+the boughs. After the rain-burst the people gathered together again, and
+each one asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the Indian boy?"</p>
+
+<p>He was not among them.</p>
+
+<p>Had he perished?</p>
+
+<p>A red sunset flamed over the prairies and the birds filled the tree-tops
+with the gladness of song. It seemed to all as if the earth and sky had
+come back again.</p>
+
+<p>In the glare of the sunset-fire a horse and rider were seen slowly
+approaching the island grove.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is Waubeno," said one to the other. "The horse is disabled."</p>
+
+<p>The people went out to meet the Indian boy. The horse was burned and
+blind, and staggered as he came on. And the rider! He had drawn the
+flames into his vitals; he had been internally burned, and was dying.</p>
+
+<p>He reeled from his blind horse, and fell before the people. Jasper laid
+his hand upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, I have drunk the cup of fire. I have kept my promise. I am
+about to die. The birds are happy. They are singing the death-song of
+Waubeno."</p>
+
+<p>His flesh quivered as he lay there, and Jasper bent over him in pity.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, do you suffer?"</p>
+
+<p>"The stars do not complain, white brother. The clouded sun does not
+complain. The winds complain, and the waters, and women and children.
+Waubeno does not complain."</p>
+
+<p>A spasm shook his frame. It passed.</p>
+
+<p>"White brother, go beyond the Mississippi and teach my people. You do
+pity them. This was once their paradise. They loved it. They struggled.
+Go to them with the Book of God."</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno, I will go."</p>
+
+<p>"The sun sets over the Mississippi. 'Tis sunset there. You will go to
+the land of the sunset?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Waubeno. I feel in my heart the call to go. I love and pity your
+people."</p>
+
+<p>"Pour water upon me; I am burning. I shall go when the moon comes up,
+when the moon comes up into the shady sky.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> My father suffered, but he
+did not complain. Waubeno does not complain. Don't pity me. Pity my poor
+people. I love my people. Teach my people, and cover me forever with a
+blanket of the earth."</p>
+
+<p>He lay on the cool grass under the trees for several hours in terrible
+agony, and the people watched by his side.</p>
+
+<p>"When the moon rises," he said, "I shall go. I shall never see the Red
+Man's Paradise again. Tell me when the moon rises. I am going to sleep
+now."</p>
+
+<p>The great moon rose at last, its disk hanging like a wheel of dead gold
+on the verge of the horizon in the smoky air.</p>
+
+<p>"Waubeno," said Jasper, "the moon is rising."</p>
+
+<p>He opened his eyes, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"We kindled the fire for our fathers' sake, and I smote it for him who
+protected Main-Pogue. What was his name, father? Say it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Lincoln."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Lincoln. He had come for revenge, but he did what was right. He
+forgave. I forgive everybody. I drank the fire for Lincoln's sake."</p>
+
+<p>The moon burned along the sky; the stars came out; and at midnight all
+was still. Waubeno lay dead under the trees, and the people with timid
+steps vanished hither and thither into the cabins and sheds.</p>
+
+<p>They killed the poor blind horse in the morning, and laid Waubeno to
+rest in a blanket, in a grave under the trees.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 657px;">
+<img src="images/illus-284.jpg" width="657" height="750" alt="Lincoln Family Record" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Lincoln Family Record,<br /><br />
+
+Written by Abraham Lincoln in his Father&#39;s Bible.<br /><br />
+
+From original in possession of C. F. Gunther, Esq., Chicago.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>"OUR LINCOLN IS THE MAN."</h3>
+
+
+<p>Fifteen years have passed since the events described in the last
+chapter. It is the year 1860. A great political crisis is upon the
+country, and Abraham Lincoln has been selected to lead one great party
+of the people, because he had faith in the principle that right is
+might. The time came, as the Tunker had prophesied, when the people
+wanted a man of integrity for their leader&mdash;a man who had a heart that
+could be trusted. They elected him to the Legislature when he was almost
+a boy and had not decent clothes to wear. The young legislator walked
+over the prairies of Illinois to the Capitol to save the traveling fare.
+As a legislator he had faith that right is might, and was true to his
+convictions.</p>
+
+<p>"He has a heart that we can trust," said the people, and they sent him
+to Congress. He was true in Washington, as in Illinois.</p>
+
+<p>"He has a heart we can trust," said the people; "let us send him to the
+Senate."</p>
+
+<p>He failed of an election, but it was because his convictions of right
+were in advance of the public mind at the time; but he who is defeated
+for a principle, triumphs. The greatest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> victors are those who are
+vanquished in the cause of truth, justice, and right; for the cause
+lives, and they live in the cause that must prevail.</p>
+
+<p>Again the people wanted a leader&mdash;all the people who represented a great
+cause&mdash;and Illinois said to the people:</p>
+
+<p>"Make our Lincoln your leader; he has a heart that we can trust," and
+Lincoln was made the heart of the people in the great cause of human
+rights. Lincoln, who had defended the little animals of the woods.
+Lincoln, who had been true to his pioneer father, when the experience
+had cost him years of toilsome life. Lincoln, who had pitied the slave
+in the New Orleans market, and whose soul had cried to Heaven for the
+scales of Justice. Lincoln, who had protected the old Indian amid the
+gibes of his comrades. Lincoln, who had studied by pine-knots, made
+poetry on old shovels, and read law on lonely roads. Lincoln, who had
+had a kindly word and pleasant story for everybody, pitied everybody,
+loved everybody, and forgave everybody, and yet carried a sad heart.
+Lincoln, who had resolved that in law and politics he would do just
+right.</p>
+
+<p>John Hanks had brought some of the rails that the candidate for the
+presidency had split into the Convention of Illinois, and the rails that
+represented the hardships of pioneer life became the oriflamme of the
+leader from the prairies. He who is true to a nation is first true to
+his parents and home.</p>
+
+<p>That was an ever-to-be-remembered day when, in August, 1860, the people
+of the great West with one accord arranged to visit Abraham Lincoln, the
+candidate for the presidency, at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> Springfield, Illinois. Seventy
+thousand strangers poured into the prairie city. They came from Indiana,
+Iowa, and the lakes. Thousands came from Chicago. Men came in wagons,
+bringing their wives and children. They brought tents, camp-kettles, and
+coffee-pots. Says a graphic writer who saw the scene:</p>
+
+<p>"Every road leading to the city is crowded for twenty miles with
+vehicles. The weather is fine, and a little overwarm. Girls can dress in
+white, and bare their arms and necks without danger; the women can bring
+their children. Everything that was ever done at any other mass-meeting
+is done here. Locomotive-builders are making a boiler; blacksmiths are
+heating and hammering their irons; the iron-founders are molding their
+patterns; the rail-splitters are showing the people how Uncle Abe used
+to split rails; every other town has its wagon-load of thirty-one girls
+in white to represent the States; bands of music, numerous almost as
+those of McClellan on Arlington Heights in 1862, are playing; old men of
+the War of 1812, with their old wives, their children, grandchildren,
+and great-grandchildren, are here: making a procession of human beings,
+horses, and carriages not less than ten miles in length. And yet the
+procession might have left the town and the people would scarcely be
+missed.</p>
+
+<p>"There is an immense wigwam, with galleries like a theatre; but there
+are people enough not in the procession to fill a dozen like it. Half an
+hour is long enough to witness the moving panorama of men and women,
+horses, carriages, representatives of trades, mottoes, and burlesques,
+and listen to the bands."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And among those who came to see the great procession, the
+rail-splitters, and the sights, were the Tunker from the Indian schools
+over the Mississippi, and Aunt Indiana from Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>There was a visitor from the East who became the hero of the great day.
+He is living now (1891) in Chelsea, Mass., near the Soldiers' Home, to
+which he often goes to sing, and is known there as "Father Locke." He
+was a natural minstrel, and songs of his, like "Down by the Sea," have
+been sung all over the world. One of his songs has moved thousands of
+hearts in sorrow, and pictures his own truly loving and beautiful soul:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"There's a fresh little mound near the willow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where at evening I wander and weep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's a dear vacant spot on my pillow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where a sweet little face used to sleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There were pretty blue eyes, but they slumber<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In silence, beneath the dark mold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the little pet lamb of our number<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has gone to the heavenly fold."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>This man, with the approval of President Lincoln, went as a minstrel to
+the Army of the Potomac. We think that he was the only minstrel who
+followed our army, like the war-singers of old. In a book published for
+private use, entitled Three Years in Camp and Hospital, "Father Locke"
+thus tells the story of his interview with President Lincoln at the
+White House:</p>
+
+<p>"Giving his hand, and saying he recollected me, he asked what he could
+do for me.</p>
+
+<p>"'I want no office, Mr. President. I came to ask for one, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> have
+changed my mind since coming into this house. When it comes to turning
+beggar, I shall shun the places where all the other beggars go. I am
+going to the army to sing for the soldiers, as the poets and balladists
+of old sang in war. Our soldiers must take as much interest in songs and
+singing as did those of ancient times. I only wished to shake hands with
+you, and obtain a letter of recommendation to the commanding officers,
+that they may receive and treat me kindly.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I will give you a letter with pleasure, but you do not need one; your
+singing will make you all right.'</p>
+
+<p>"On my rising to leave, he gave his hand, saying: 'God bless you; I am
+glad you do not want an office. Go to the army, and cheer the men around
+their camp-fires with your songs, remembering that a great man said,
+"Let me but make the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its
+laws."'"</p>
+
+<p>The President then told him how to secure a pass into the lines of the
+army, and the man went forth to write and to sing his inspirations, like
+a balladist of old.</p>
+
+<p>His songs were the delight of many camps of the Army of the Potomac in
+the first dark year of the war. They were sung in the camp, and they
+belonged to the inside army life, but were little known outside of the
+army. They are still fondly remembered by the veterans, and are sung at
+reunions and camp-fires.</p>
+
+<p>We give one of these songs and its original music here. It has the
+spirit of the time and the events, and every note is a pulse-beat:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3><i>We are Marching on to Richmond.</i></h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Words and Music by E. W. Locke.</span></h4>
+
+<h5>Published by the permission of the Composer.</h5>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/illus-291.jpg" width="450" height="605" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/illus-292.jpg" width="450" height="290" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span><span class="i0">3.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But yesterday, in murderous fray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While marching on to Richmond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We parted here from comrades dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While marching on to Richmond;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With manly sighs and tearful eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While marching on to Richmond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We laid the braves in peaceful graves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And started on to Richmond.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">4.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Our friends away are sad to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Because we march to Richmond;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With loving fear they shrink to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About our march to Richmond;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pen shall tell that they who fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While marching on to Richmond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had hearts aglow and face to foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And died in sight of Richmond.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">5.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Our thoughts shall roam to scenes of home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While marching on to Richmond;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vacant chair that's waiting there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While we march on to Richmond;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twill not be long till shout and song<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We'll raise aloud in Richmond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And war's rude blast will soon be past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And we'll go home from Richmond."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>This song-writer had brought a song to the great Springfield assembly.
+He sang it when the people were in a receptive mood. It voiced their
+hearts, and its influence was electric. As he rose before the assembly
+on that August day under the prairie sun, and sang: "Hark! hark! a
+signal-gun is heard," a stillness came over the great sea of the people.
+The figures of the first verse filled the imagination, but the chorus
+was like a bugle-call:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"THE SHIP OF STATE.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"(Sung at the Springfield Convention.)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hark! hark! a signal-gun is heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Just out beyond the fort;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good old Ship of State, my boys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is coming into port.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shattered sails, and anchors gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I fear the rogues will strand her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She carries now a sorry crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And needs a new commander.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Our Lincoln is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our Lincoln is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With a sturdy mate<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From the Pine-Tree State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our Lincoln is the man!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Four years ago she put to sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With prospects brightly beaming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her hull was strong, her sails new-bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And every pennant streaming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She loved the gale, she plowed the waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor feared the deep's commotion;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Majestic, nobly on she sailed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Proud mistress of the ocean.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"There's mutiny aboard the ship;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There's feud no force can smother;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their blood is up to fever-heat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They're cutting down each other.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Buchanan here, and Douglas there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are belching forth their thunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While cunning rogues are sly at work<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In pocketing the plunder.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Our ship is badly out of trim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Tis time to calk and grave her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She's foul with stench of human gore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They've turned her to a slaver.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She's cruised about from coast to coast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The flying bondman hunting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until she's strained from stem to stern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lost her sails and bunting.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And he'll trim her sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As he split the rails.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"We'll give her what repairs she needs&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A thorough overhauling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sordid crew shall be dismissed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To seek some honest calling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave Lincoln soon shall take the helm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On truth and right relying;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In calm or storm, in peace or war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He'll keep her colors flying.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With a sturdy mate<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From the Pine-Tree State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Old Abram is the man!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>These words seem commonplace to-day, but they were trumpet-notes then.
+"Our Lincoln is the man!" trembled on every tongue, and a tumultuous
+applause arose that shook the air. The enthusiasm grew; the minstrel had
+voiced the people, and they would not let him stop singing. They finally
+mounted him on their shoulders and carried him about in triumph, like a
+victor bard of old. Ever rang the chorus from the lips of the people,
+"Our Lincoln is the man!" "Old Abram is the man!"</p>
+
+<p>Lincoln heard the song. He loved songs. One of his favorite songs was
+"Twenty Years ago." But this was the first time, probably, that he had
+heard himself sung. He was living at that time in the plain house in
+Springfield that has been made familiar by pictures. The song delighted
+him, but he, of all the thousands, was forbidden by his position to
+express his pleasure in the song. He would have liked to join with the
+multitudes in singing "Our Lincoln is the man!" had not the situation
+sealed his lips. But after the scene was over, and the great mass of
+people began to melt away, he sought the minstrel, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Come to my room, and sing to me the song privately. <i>I</i> want to hear
+you sing it."</p>
+
+<p>So he listened to it in private, while it was being borne over the
+prairies on tens of thousands of lips. Did he then dream that the
+nations would one day sing the song of his achievements, that his death
+would be tolled by the bells of all lands,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> and his dirge fill the
+churches of Christendom with tears? It may have been that his destiny in
+dim outline rose before him, for the events of his life were hurrying.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana was there, and she found the Tunker.</p>
+
+<p>"The land o' sakes and daisies!" she said. "That we should both be here!
+Well, elder, I give it up! I was agin Lincoln until I heard all the
+people a-singin' that song; then it came over me that I was doin' just
+what I hadn't ought to, and I began to sing 'Old Lincoln is the man!'
+just as though it had been a Methody hymn written by Wesley himself."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad that you have changed your mind, and that I have lived to see
+my prophecy, that Lincoln would become the heart of the people,
+fulfilled."</p>
+
+<p>"Elder, I tell you what let's we do."</p>
+
+<p>"What, my good woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let's we each get a rail, and go down before Abe's winder, and I'll
+sing as loud as anybody:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And he'll trim her sails<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As he split the rails.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Abram is the man!'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>I'll do it, if you will. I've been all wrong from the first. Why, even
+the Grigsbys are goin' to vote for him, and I'm goin' to do the right
+thing myself. Abe always had a human heart, and it is that which is the
+most human that leads off in this world."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana found a rail. The streets of Springfield were full of rails
+that the people had brought in honor of Lincoln's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> hard work on his
+father's barn in early Illinois. She also found a flag. Flags were as
+many as rails on this remarkable occasion. She set the flag into the top
+of the rail, and started for the street that led past Lincoln's door.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, elder; we'll be a procession all by ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>The two arrived at the house where Lincoln lived, the Tunker in his
+buttonless gown, and Aunt Indiana with her corn-bonnet, printed shawl,
+rail, and flag. The procession of two came to a halt before the open
+window, and presently, framed in the open window, like a picture, the
+face of Abraham Lincoln appeared. That face lighted up as it fell upon
+Aunt Indiana.</p>
+
+<p>She made a low courtesy, and lifted the rail and the flag, and broke
+forth in a tone that would have led a camp-meeting:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Our Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Abram is the man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a sturdy mate<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the Pine-Tree State,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Abram is the man!'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Elder, you sing, and we'll go over it again."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Indiana waved the flag and sang the refrain again, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Abe Lincoln, I'm goin' to vote for ye, though I never thought I should.
+But you shall have my vote with all the rest.&mdash;Lawdy sakes and daisies,
+elder&mdash;I forgot; I can't vote, can I? I'm just a woman. I've got all
+mixed up and carried away, but</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Our Abram is the man!'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 370px;">
+<img src="images/illus-298.jpg" width="370" height="500" alt="Abraham Lincoln." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Abraham Lincoln.<br /><br />
+
+From a photograph by Alexander Hesler, Chicago, 1858.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Six years have passed. The gardens of Washington are bursting into
+bloom. The sky is purple under a clear sun. It is Wednesday morning, the
+19th of April, 1865.</p>
+
+<p>All the bells are tolling, and the whole city is robed in black. At
+eleven o'clock some sixty clergymen enter the White House, followed by
+the governors of the States. At noon comes the long procession of
+Government officers, followed by the diplomatic corps.</p>
+
+<p>In the sable rooms rises a dark catafalque, and in it lies a waxen face.</p>
+
+<p>Toll!&mdash;the bells of Washington, Georgetown, and Alexandria! Minute-guns
+boom. Around that dead face the representatives of the nation, and of
+all nations, pass, and tears fall like rain.</p>
+
+<p>A funeral car of flowers moves through the streets. Abraham Lincoln has
+done his work. He is on his journey back to the scenes of his childhood!
+The boy who defended the turtles, the man who stretched out his arm over
+the defenseless Indian in the Black Hawk War, and who freed the slave;
+the man of whom no one ever asked pity in vain&mdash;he is going back to the
+prairies, to sleep his eternal sleep among the violets.</p>
+
+<p>Toll! The bells of all the cities and towns of the loyal nation are
+tolling. In every principal church in all the land people have met to
+weep and to pray. Half-mast flags everywhere meet the breeze.</p>
+
+<p>They laid the body beneath the rotunda of the Capitol, amid the April
+flowers and broken magnolias.</p>
+
+<p>Then homeward&mdash;through Baltimore, robed in black;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> through Philadelphia,
+through New York, Cleveland, Indianapolis, and Chicago. The car rolls
+on, over flowers and under black flags, amid the tolling of the bells of
+cities and the bells of the simple country church-towers. All labor
+ceases. The whole people stop to wonder and to weep.</p>
+
+<p>The dirges cease. The muffled drums are still. The broken earth of the
+prairies is wrapped around the dead commoner, the fallen apostle of
+humanity, the universal brother of all who toil and struggle.</p>
+
+<p>The courts of Europe join in the lamentation. Never yet was a man wept
+like this man.</p>
+
+<p>His monument ennobles the world. He stands in eternal bronze in a
+hundred cities. And why? Because he had a heart to feel; because to him
+all men had been brothers of equal blood and birthright; and because he
+had had faith that "<span class="smcap">right makes might</span>."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
+
+<h3>AT THE LAST.</h3>
+
+
+<p>From the magnolias to the Northern orchards, from the apple-blooms to
+the prairie violets! The casket was laid in the tomb. Twilight came; the
+multitudes had gone. It was ended now, and night was falling.</p>
+
+<p>Two forms stood beside the closed door of the tomb; one was an old,
+gray-haired woman, the other was a patriarchal-looking man.</p>
+
+<p>The woman's gray hairs blew about her white face like silver threads,
+and she pushed it back with her withered hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Sister Olive," said the old man, "<i>he</i> loved others better than
+himself; and it is not this tomb, but the great heart of the world, that
+has taken him in. I felt that he was called. I felt it years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven forgive a poor old woman, elder! I misjudged that man. See
+here."</p>
+
+<p>She held up a bunch of half-withered prairie violets that she had
+carried about with her all the day, and then went and laid them on the
+tomb.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For Lincoln's sake! for Lincoln's sake!" she said, crying like a child.</p>
+
+<p>The two went away in the shadows, talking of all the past, and each has
+long slept under the violets of the prairies.</p>
+
+
+<h4>THE END.</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>BOOKS BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.</h3>
+
+<h4>UNIFORM EDITION. EACH, 12MO, CLOTH, $1.50.</h4>
+
+
+<p><i>THE RED PATRIOT.</i> A Story of the American Revolution. Illustrated by B.
+West Clinedinst.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>In this vivid account of a boy's part in great historical
+events there is a leading actor, "the last of the
+Susquehannocks," whose share in the hero's adventures has given
+the title to the book.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>THE WINDFALL</i>; <i>or, After the Flood</i>. Illustrated by B. West
+Clinedinst.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Full of adventure and incident so well conceived and described
+as to keep the reader in a continued state of absorbed
+attention. It is the kind of book one wants to sit up nights to
+finish."&mdash;<i>Springfield Union</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>CHRIS, THE MODEL-MAKER.</i> A Story of New York. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by B. West Clinedinst.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The girls as well as the boys will be certain to relish every
+line of it. It is full of lively and likely adventure, is
+wholesome in tone, and capitally illustrated."&mdash;<i>Philadelphia
+Press</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>ON THE OLD FRONTIER.</i> With 10 full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"A capital story of life in the middle of the last century....
+The characters introduced really live and talk, and the story
+recommends itself not only to boys and girls, but to their
+parents."&mdash;<i>New York Times</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK.</i> With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored
+Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Young people who are interested in the ever-thrilling story of
+the great rebellion will find in this romance a wonderfully
+graphic picture of New York in war time."&mdash;<i>Boston Traveler</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>LITTLE SMOKE.</i> A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page
+Illustrations by F. S. Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red
+Cloud, and other chiefs, and 72 head and tail pieces representing the
+various implements and surroundings of Indian life.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is not only a story of adventure, but the volume abounds in
+information concerning this most powerful of remaining Indian
+tribes. The work of the author has been well supplemented by
+the artist."&mdash;<i>Boston Traveler</i>.</p></div>
+<p><i> CROWDED OUT O' CROFIELD.</i> The story of a country boy who fought
+his way to success in the great metropolis. With 23 Illustrations by
+C. T. Hill.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"This excellent story teaches boys to be men, not prigs or
+Indian hunters. If our boys would read more such books, and
+less of the blood-and-thunder order, it would be rare good
+fortune."&mdash;<i>Detroit Free Press</i>.</p></div>
+
+
+<h4>GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS.</h4>
+
+<p><i>THE EXPLOITS OF MYLES STANDISH.</i> By <span class="smcap">Henry Johnson</span> (Muirhead Robertson),
+author of "From Scrooby to Plymouth Rock," etc. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>This story of the exploits of Myles Standish throws a clearer
+light upon a heroic figure in our earliest history, and it has
+an epic quality which will appeal to old and young. While the
+facts of history are presented, the author has adroitly
+reconstructed the little-known earlier years of Standish's
+life, basing his imaginative work upon the probabilities of
+history. The result is for the most part history told in the
+form of a thrilling and absorbing story, a tale which includes
+war and adventures, and also illustrates the sterling and
+heroic qualities which contributed so powerfully to the
+preservation of the Plymouth colony. The book is one to be read
+by every young American.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>CHRISTINE'S CAREER.</i> A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Pauline King</span>. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth, specially bound, $1.50.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The story is fresh and modern, relieved by incidents and
+constant humor, and the lessons which are suggested are most
+beneficial.</p></div>
+
+<p><i>JOHN BOYD'S ADVENTURES.</i> By <span class="smcap">Thomas W. Knox</span>, author of "The Boy
+Travelers," etc. With 12 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p><i>ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF.</i> By <span class="smcap">Charles F. Holder</span>, joint author of
+"Elements of Zo&ouml;logy." With numerous Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p><i>ENGLISHMAN'S HAVEN.</i> By <span class="smcap">W. J. Gordon</span>, author of "The Captain-General,"
+etc. With 8 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p><i>WE ALL.</i> A Story of Outdoor Life and Adventure in Arkansas. By <span class="smcap">Octave
+Thanet</span>. With 12 full-page Illustrations by E. J. Austen and Others.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p><i>KING TOM AND THE RUNAWAYS.</i> By <span class="smcap">Louis Pendleton</span>. The experiences of two
+boys in the forests of Georgia. With 6 Illustrations by E. W. Kemble.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+<h4>Books by Hezekiah Butterworth.</h4>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Uniform Edition.</span> Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.50.</p>
+
+<p><b>True to his Home.</b> <i>A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin.</i></p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by <span class="smcap">H. Winthrop Peirce</span>.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"Mr. Butterworth's charming and suggestive story presents the most
+interesting and picturesque episodes in the home life of Franklin, as
+well as a narrative of the salient phases of his public life. The author
+has succeeded most happily in carrying out his plan of "story-telling
+education" based on Froebel's principle that "life must be taught from
+life.""</div>
+
+<p><b>The Wampum</b>; or, <b>The Fairest Page of History</b>. <i>A Tale of William Penn's
+Treaty with the Indians.</i> Illustrated by <span class="smcap">H. Winthrop Peirce</span>.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"Historic truth is the foundation of all the incidents in this finely
+written, instructive, and wholly charming book. The personality and
+character of William Penn are most admirably treated, and his figure
+looms up to its noble proportions in the historic
+perspective."&mdash;<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></div>
+
+<p><b>The Knight of Liberty.</b> <i>A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette.</i> With 6
+full-page Illustrations.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"No better reading for the young man can be imagined than this
+fascinating narrative of a noble figure on the canvas of time."&mdash;<i>Boston
+Traveler.</i></div>
+
+<p><b>The Patriot Schoolmaster</b>; <i>or, The Adventures of the Two Boston Cannon,
+the "Adams" and the "Hancock</i>." A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of
+Liberty. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. Winthrop Peirce</span>.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">The true spirit of the leaders in our War for Independence is pictured
+in this dramatic story. It includes the Boston Tea Party and Bunker
+Hill; and Adams, Hancock, Revere, and the boys who bearded General Gage,
+are living characters in this romance of American patriotism.</div>
+
+<p><b>The Boys of Greenway Court.</b> <i>A story of the Early Years of Washington.</i>
+With 10 full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. Winthrop Peirce</span>.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"Skillfully combining fact and fiction, he has given us a story
+historically instructive and at the same time entertaining."&mdash;<i>Boston
+Transcript.</i></div>
+
+<p><b>In the Boyhood of Lincoln.</b> <i>A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker
+Schoolmaster.</i> With 12 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"The author presents facts in a most attractive framework of fiction,
+and imbues the whole with his peculiar humor. The illustrations are
+numerous and of more than usual excellence."&mdash;<i>New Haven Palladium.</i></div>
+
+<p><b>The Log School-House on the Columbia.</b> With 13 full-page Illustrations by
+<span class="smcap">J. Carter Beard</span>, <span class="smcap">E. J. Austen</span>, and Others.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"This book will charm all who turn its pages. There are few books of
+popular information concerning the pioneers of the great Northwest, and
+this one is worthy of sincere praise."&mdash;<i>Seattle Post-Intelligencer.</i></div>
+
+<p>New York: <span class="smcap">D. Appleton &amp; Company</span>, 72 Fifth Avenue.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's In The Boyhood of Lincoln, by Hezekiah Butterworth
+
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+Project Gutenberg's In The Boyhood of Lincoln, by Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: In The Boyhood of Lincoln
+       A Tale of the Tunker Schoolmaster and the Times of Black Hawk
+
+Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2008 [EBook #25672]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Adrian Mastronardi, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE RESCUE.]
+
+
+
+
+IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
+
+A Tale of the Tunker Schoolmaster
+and the Times of Black Hawk
+
+BY
+
+HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH
+
+AUTHOR OF THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE COLUMBIA
+
+Let us have faith that right makes might, and
+in that faith as to the end dare to do our duty.
+                     PRESIDENT LINCOLN.
+
+_ILLUSTRATED_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+NINTH EDITION
+
+NEW YORK
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
+1898
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1892,
+BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Abraham Lincoln has become the typical character of American
+institutions, and it is the purpose of this book, which is a true
+picture in a framework of fiction, to show how that character, which so
+commanded the hearts and the confidence of men, was formed. He who in
+youth unselfishly seeks the good of others, without fear or favor, may
+be ridiculed, but he makes for himself a character fit to govern others,
+and one that the people will one day need and honor. The secret of
+Abraham Lincoln's success was the "faith that right makes might." This
+principle the book seeks by abundant story-telling to illustrate and
+make clear.
+
+In this volume, as in the "Log School-House on the Columbia," the
+adventures of a pioneer school-master are made to represent the early
+history of a newly settled country. The "Log School-House on the
+Columbia" gave a view of the early history of Oregon and Washington.
+This volume collects many of the Indian romances and cabin tales of the
+early settlers of Illinois, and pictures the hardships and manly
+struggles of one who by force of early character made himself the
+greatest of representative Americans.
+
+The character of the Dunkard, or Tunker, as a wandering school-master,
+may be new to many readers. Such missionaries of the forests and
+prairies have now for the most part disappeared, but they did a useful
+work among the pioneer settlements on the Ohio and Illinois Rivers. In
+this case we present him as a disciple of Pestalozzi and a friend of
+Froebel, and as one who brings the German methods of story-telling into
+his work.
+
+"Was there ever so good an Indian as Umatilla?" asks an accomplished
+reviewer of the "Log School-House on the Columbia." The chief whose
+heroic death in the grave of his son is recorded in that volume did not
+receive the full measure of credit for his devotion, for he was really
+buried _alive_ in the grave of his boy. A like question may be asked in
+regard to the father of Waubeno in this volume. We give the story very
+much as Black Hawk himself related it. In Drake's History of the Indians
+we find it related in the following manner:
+
+"It is related by Black Hawk, in his Life, that some time before the War
+of 1812 one of the Indians had killed a Frenchman at Prairie des Chiens.
+'The British soon after took him prisoner, and said they would shoot him
+next day. His family were encamped a short distance below the mouth of
+the Ouisconsin. He begged permission to go and see them that night, as
+he was _to die the next day_. They permitted him to go, after promising
+to return the next morning by sunrise. He visited his family, which
+consisted of a wife and six children. I can not describe their meeting
+and parting to be understood by the whites, as it appears that their
+feelings are acted upon by certain rules laid down by their
+_preachers_!--while ours are governed only by the monitor within us. He
+parted from his wife and children, hurried through the prairie to the
+fort, and arrived in time. The soldiers were ready, and immediately
+_marched out and shot him down_!' If this were not cold-blooded,
+deliberate murder on the part of the whites I have no conception of what
+constitutes that crime. What were the circumstances of the murder we are
+not informed; but whatever they may have been, they can not excuse a
+still greater barbarity."
+
+It belongs, like the story of so-called Umatilla in the "Log
+School-House on the Columbia," to a series of great legends of Indian
+character which the poet's pen and the artist's brush would do well to
+perpetuate. The examples of Indians who have valued honor more than life
+are many, and it is a pleasing duty to picture such scenes of native
+worth, as true to the spirit of the past.
+
+We have in this volume, as in the former book, freely mingled history,
+tradition, and fiction, but we believe that we have in no case been
+untrue to the fact and spirit of the times we picture, and we have
+employed fiction chiefly as a framework to bring what is real more
+vividly into view. We have employed the interpretive imagination merely
+for narrative purposes. Nearly all that has distinctive worth in the
+volume is substantially true to history, tradition, and the general
+spirit of old times in the Illinois, the Sangamon, and the Chicago; to
+the character of the "jolly old pedagogue long ago"; and to that
+marvelous man who accepted in youth the lesson of lessons, that "right
+makes might."
+
+28 WORCHESTER STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                         PAGE
+
+I.--INTRODUCED                                                     1
+
+II.--THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES                              17
+
+III.--THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY-TELLERS       33
+
+IV.--A BOY WITH A HEART                                           55
+
+V.--JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.--HER QUEER STORIES             62
+
+VI.--JASPER GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO BLACK HAWK.--AUNT
+INDIANA'S WIG                                                     75
+
+VII.--THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL                        87
+
+VIII.--THE PARABLE PREACHES IN THE WILDERNESS                    100
+
+IX.--AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES                                   108
+
+X.--THE INDIAN RUNNER                                            115
+
+XI.--THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO                                      122
+
+XII.--THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO                                133
+
+XIII.--LAFAYETTE AT KASKASKIA.--THE STATELY MINUET               140
+
+XIV.--WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN                                  156
+
+XV.--THE DEBATING SCHOOL                                         166
+
+XVI.--THE SCHOOL THAT MADE LINCOLN PRESIDENT                     177
+
+XVII.--THOMAS LINCOLN MOVES                                      184
+
+XVIII.--MAIN-POGUE                                               196
+
+XIX.--THE FOREST COLLEGE                                         202
+
+XX.--MAKING LINCOLN A "SON OF MALTA"                             214
+
+XXI.--PRAIRIE ISLAND                                             218
+
+XXII.--THE INDIAN PLOT                                           229
+
+XXIII.--FOR LINCOLN'S SAKE                                       236
+
+XXIV.--"OUR LINCOLN IS THE MAN"                                  251
+
+XXV.--AT THE LAST                                                265
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                               FACING PAGE
+
+The rescue                                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+The Tunker school-master's class in manners                        14
+
+Lines written by Lincoln on the leaf of his school-book            22
+
+Story-telling at the smithy                                        35
+
+The home of Abraham Lincoln when in his tenth year                 55
+
+Aunt Olive's wedding                                               68
+
+Abraham as a peace-maker                                           90
+
+Black Hawk tells the story of Waubeno                             118
+
+A queer place to write poetry                                     160
+
+Sarah Bush Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln's step-mother                 217
+
+The approach of the mysterious Indian                             240
+
+The Lincoln family record                                         250
+
+Abraham Lincoln, the man                                          262
+
+
+
+
+IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+INTRODUCED.
+
+
+"Boy, are there any schools in these parts?"
+
+"Crawford's."
+
+"And who, my boy, is Crawford?"
+
+"The schoolmaster, don't yer know? He's great on thrashing--on
+thrashing--and--and he knows everything. Everybody in these parts has
+heard of Crawford. He's great."
+
+"That is all very extraordinary. 'Great on thrashing, and knows
+everything.' Very extraordinary! Do you raise much wheat in these
+parts?"
+
+"He don't thrash wheat, mister. Old Dennis and young Dennis do that with
+their thrashing-flails."
+
+"But what does he thrash, my boy--what does he thrash?"
+
+"He just thrashes boys, don't you know."
+
+"Extraordinary--very extraordinary. He thrashes boys."
+
+"And teaches 'em their manners. He teaches manners, Crawford does.
+Didn't you never hear of Crawford? You must be a stranger in these
+parts."
+
+"Yes, I am a stranger in Indiana. I have been following the timber
+along the creek, and looking out on the prairie islands. This is a
+beautiful country. Nature has covered it with grasses and flowers, and
+the bees will swarm here some day; I see them now; the air is all bright
+with them, my boy."
+
+"I don't see any bees; it isn't the time of year for 'em. Do you
+cobble?"
+
+"You don't quite understand me. I was speaking spiritually. Yes, I
+cobble to pay my way. Yes, my boy."
+
+"Do you preach?"
+
+"Yes, and teach the higher branches--like Crawford. He teaches the
+higher branches, does he not?"
+
+"Don't make any odds where he gets 'em. I didn't know that he used the
+higher branches. He just cuts a stick anywhere, and goes at 'em, he
+does."
+
+"You do not comprehend me, my boy. I teach the higher branches in new
+schools--Latin and singing. I do not use the higher branches of the
+trees."
+
+"Latin! Then you must be a _wizard_."
+
+"No, no, my boy. I am one of the Brethren--called. My new name is
+Jasper. I chose that name because I needed polishing. Do you see? Well,
+the Lord is doing his work, polishing me, and I shall shine by and by.
+'They that turn many to righteousness shall shine like the stars of
+heaven.' They call me the Parable."
+
+"Then you be a Tunker?"
+
+"I am one of the wandering Brethren that they call 'Tunkers.'"
+
+"You preach for nothin'? They do."
+
+"Yes, my boy; the Word is free."
+
+"Then who pays you?"
+
+"My soul."
+
+"And you teach for nothin', too, do ye?"
+
+"Yes, my boy. Knowledge is free."
+
+"Then who pays you?"
+
+"It all comes back to me. He that teaches is taught."
+
+"You don't cobble for nothin', do ye?"
+
+"Yes--I cobble to pay my way. I am a wayfaring man, wandering to and fro
+in the wilderness of the world."
+
+"You cobble to pay yourself for teachin' and preachin'! Why don't you
+make _them_ pay you? I shouldn't think that you would want to preach and
+teach and cobble all for nothin', and travel, and travel, and sleep
+anywhere. Father will be proper glad to see you--and mother; we are glad
+to see near upon anybody. I suppose that you will hold forth down to
+Crawford's; in the log meetin'-'ouse, or in the school-'ouse, may be, or
+under the great trees over Nancy Lincoln's grave. Elkins he preached
+there, and the circuit-rider."
+
+"If I follow the timber, I will come to Crawford's, my boy?"
+
+"Yes, mister. You'll come to the school-'ouse, and the meetin'-'ouse.
+The school-'ouse has a low-down roof and a big chimney. Crawford will be
+right glad to see you, won't he now? They are great on spellin' down
+there--have spellin'-matches, and all the people come from far and near
+to hear 'em spell--hundreds of 'em. Link--he's the head speller--he
+could spell down anybody. It is the greatest school in all these here
+new parts. You will have a right good time down there; they'll treat ye
+right well."
+
+"Good, my boy; you speak kindly. I shall have a good time, if the people
+have ears."
+
+"Ears! They've all got ears--just like other folks. You didn't think
+that they didn't have any ears, did ye?"
+
+"I mean ears for the truth. I must travel on. I am glad that I met you,
+my lad. Tell your father and mother that old Jasper the Parable has gone
+by, and that he has a message for them in his heart. God bless you, my
+boy--God bless you! You are a little rude in your speech, but you mean
+well."
+
+The man went on, following the trail along the great trees of Pigeon
+Creek, and the boy stood looking after him. The water rippled under the
+trees, and afar lay the open prairie, like a great sun sea. The air was
+cool, but the light of spring was in it, and the blue-birds fluted
+blithely among the budding trees.
+
+As he passed along amid these new scenes, a singular figure appeared in
+the way. It was a woman in a linsey-woolsey dress, corn sun-bonnet, and
+a huge cane. She looked at the Tunker suspiciously, yet seemed to retard
+her steps that he might overtake her.
+
+"My good woman," said the latter, coming up to her, "I am not sure of my
+way."
+
+"Well, I am."
+
+"I wish to go to the Pigeon Creek--settlement--"
+
+"Then you ought to have kept the way when you had it."
+
+"But, my good woman, I am a stranger in these parts. A boy has directed
+me, but I feel uncertain. What do you do when you lose your way?"
+
+"I don't lose it."
+
+"But if you were--"
+
+"I'd just turn to the right, and keep right straight ahead till I found
+it."
+
+"True, true; but this is a new country to me. I am one of the Brethren."
+
+"Ye be, be ye? I thought you were one of them land agents. One of the
+Brethren. I'm proper glad. Who were you lookin' for?"
+
+"Crawford's school."
+
+"The college? Am you're goin' there? I go over there sometimes to see
+him wallop the boys. We must all have discipline in life, you know, and
+it is best to begin with the young. Crawford does. They say that
+Crawford teaches clear to the rule of three, whatever that may be. One
+added to one is more than one, according to the Scriptur'; now isn't it?
+One added to one is almost three. Is that what they call high
+mathematics? I never got further than the multiplication-table, though I
+am a friend to education. My name is Olive Eastman. What's yourn?"
+
+"Jasper."
+
+"You don't? One of the old patriarchs, like. Well, I live this way--you
+go _that_. 'Tain't more'n half a mile to Crawford's--close to the
+meetin'-'ouse. Mebby you'll preach there, and I'll hear ye. Glad I met
+ye now, and to see who you be. They call me Aunt Olive sometimes, and
+sometimes Aunt Indiana. I settled Pigeon Creek, or husband and I did. He
+was kind o' weakly; he's gone now, and I live all alone. I'd be glad to
+have you come over and preach at the 'ouse, though I might not believe a
+word on't. I'm a Methody; most people are Baptist down here, like the
+Linkuns, but we is all ready to listen to a Tunker. People are only
+responsible for what they know; and there are some good people among the
+Tunkers, I've hern tell. Now don't go off into some by-path into the
+woods. Tom Lincoln he see a bear there the other day, but he wouldn't
+'a' shot it if it had been an elephant with tusks of ivory and gold.
+Some folks haven't no calculation. The Lincolns hain't. Good-by."
+
+The Tunker was a middle-aged man of probably forty-five or more years.
+He had a benevolent face, large, sympathetic eyes, and a patriarchal
+beard. His garments had hooks instead of buttons. He carried a leather
+bag in which were a Bible and a hymn-book, some German works of
+Zinzendorf, and his cobbling-tools. We can not wonder that the boy
+stared after him. He would have looked oddly anywhere.
+
+My reader may not know who a Tunker was, as our wandering schoolmaster
+was called. A Tunker, or Dunker, was one of a sect of German Baptists or
+Quakers, who were formerly very numerous in Pennsylvania and Ohio. The
+order numbered at one time some thirty thousand souls. They called
+themselves Brethren, but were commonly known as "Tunkards," or
+"Dunkards," from a German word meaning to _dip_. At their baptisms they
+dip the body of a convert three times; and so in their own land they
+received the name of Tunkers, or _dippers_, and this name followed them
+into Holland and to America. A large number of the Brethren settled in
+Germantown, Pa. Thence they wandered into Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois,
+preaching and teaching and doing useful work. Like the Quakers, they
+have now nearly disappeared.
+
+Their doctrines were peculiar, but their lives were unselfish and pure,
+and their influence blameless. They believed in being led by the inner
+light; that the soul was a seat of divine and spiritual authority, and
+that the Spirit came to them as a direct revelation. They did not eat
+meat or drink wine. They washed each other's feet after their religious
+services, wore their beards long, and gave themselves new names that
+they might not be tempted by any worldly ambitions or rivalries. They
+thought it wrong to take oaths, to hold slaves, or to treat the Indians
+differently from other men. They would receive no payment for preaching,
+but held that it was the duty of all men to live by what they earned by
+their own labor. They traveled wherever they felt moved to go by the
+inward monitor. They were a peculiar people, but the prairie States owe
+much that was good to their influence. The new settlers were usually
+glad to see the old Tunker when he appeared among them, and to receive
+his message, and women and children felt the loss of this benevolent
+sympathy when he went away. He established no church, yet all people
+believed in his sincerity, and most people listened to him with respect
+and reverence. The sect closely resembled the old Jewish order of the
+Essenes, except that they did not wear the garment of white, but loose
+garments without buttons.
+
+The scene of the Tunker's journey was in Spencer County, Indiana, near
+the present town of Gentryville. This county was rapidly being occupied
+by immigrants, and it was to this new people that Jasper the Parable
+believed himself to be guided by the monitor within.
+
+Early in the afternoon he passed several clearings and cabins, where he
+stopped to receive directions to the school-house and meeting-house.
+
+The country was one vast wilderness. For the most part it was covered
+with gigantic trees, though here and there a rich prairie opened out of
+the timber. There were oaks gray with centuries, and elms jacketed with
+moss, in whose high boughs the orioles in summer builded and sang, and
+under which the bluebells grew. There were black-walnut forests in
+places, with timber almost as hard as horn. The woods in many places
+were open, like colonnades, and carpeted with green moss. There were no
+restrictions of law here, or very few. One might pitch his tent
+anywhere, and live where he pleased. The land, as a rule, was common.
+
+Jasper came at last to a clearing with a rude cabin, near which was a
+three-faced camp, as a house of poles with one open side was called.
+Spencer County was near the Kentucky border, and the climate was so warm
+that a family could live there in a house of poles in comfort for most
+of the year.
+
+As Jasper the Parable came up to the log-house, which had neither hinged
+doors nor glass windows, a large, rough, good-humored-looking man came
+out to the gate to meet him, and stood there leaning upon a low
+gate-post.
+
+"Howdy, stranger?" said the hardy pioneer. "What brings you to these
+parts--lookin' fer a place to settle down at?"
+
+"No, my good friend--I'm obliged to you for speaking so kindly to a
+wayfarer--peace be with you--I am looking for the school-house. Can you
+direct me there?"
+
+"I reckon. Then you be going to see the school? Good for ye. A great
+school that Crawford keeps. I've got a boy and a girl in that there
+school myself. The boy, if I do say it now, is the smartest fellow in
+all the country round--and the laziest. Smart at the top, but it don't
+go down. Runs all to larnin'. Just reads and studies about all the time,
+speaks pieces, and preaches on stumps, and makes poetry, and things. I
+don't know what will ever become of him. He's a queer one. My name is
+Linkem" (Lincoln)--"Thomas Linkem. What's yourn?"
+
+"They call me Jasper the Parable--that is my new name. I'm one of the
+Brethren. No offense, I hope--just one of the Brethren."
+
+"Oh, you be--a Tunker. Well, we'll all be proper glad to see you down
+here. I come from Kentuck. Where did you come from?"
+
+"From Pennsylvania, here. I was born in Germany."
+
+"Sho, you did? From Pennsylvany! And how far are you going?"
+
+"I'm going to meet Black Hawk. My good friend, I stop and preach and
+teach and cobble along the way."
+
+"What! Black Hawk, the chief? Is it him you're goin' to see? You're an
+Indian agent, perhaps, travelin' for the State or the fur-traders?"
+
+"No, I am not a trader of any kind. I am going to meet Black Hawk at
+Rock River. He has promised me a young Indian guide, who will show me
+all these paths and act as an interpreter, and gain for me a passage
+among all the Indian tribes. I have met Black Hawk before."
+
+"You've been to Illinois, have ye? Glad to hear ye say so. What kind of
+a kentry is that, now? I've sometimes thought of going there myself. It
+ain't over-healthy here. Say, stranger, come back and stop with us after
+you've been to the school. I haven't any great accommodations, as you
+see, but I will do the best I can for you, and it will make my wife and
+Abe and the gal proper glad to have a talk with a preacher. Ye will,
+won't ye, now? Say yes."
+
+"Yes, yes, if it is so ordered, friend. Thank you, yes. I feel moved to
+say that I will come back. You are very good, my friend."
+
+"Yes, yes, come back and see us all. I won't detain ye any longer now.
+You see that there openin'? Well, you just follow that path as the
+crow flies, and you'll come to the school-'ouse. Good-day,
+stranger--good-day."
+
+It was early spring, a season always beautiful in southern Indiana. The
+buds were swelling; the woodpeckers were tapping the old trees, and the
+migrating birds were returning to their old homes in the tree-tops.
+Jasper went along singing, for his heart was happy, and he felt the
+cheerful influence of the vernal air. The birds to him were prophets and
+choirs, and the murmur of the south winds in the trees was a sermon. A
+right and receptive spirit sees good in everything, and so Jasper sang
+as he walked along the footpath.
+
+The school-house came into view. It was built of round logs, and was
+scarcely higher than a tall man's head. The chimney was large, and was
+constructed of poles and clay, and the floor and furniture were made of
+puncheons, as split logs were called. The windows consisted of rough
+slats and oiled paper. The door was open, and Jasper came up and stood
+before it. How strange the new country all seemed to him!
+
+The schoolmaster came to the door. He affected gentlemanly and almost
+courtly manners, and bowed low.
+
+"Is this Mr. Crawford, may I ask?" said Jasper.
+
+"Andrew Crawford. And whom have I the honor of meeting?"
+
+"My new name is Jasper. I am one of the Brethren. They call me the
+Parable. I am on my way to Rock Island, Illinois, to meet Black Hawk,
+the chief, who has promised to assist me with a guide and interpreter
+for my missionary journeys among the new settlements and the tribes. I
+have come, may it please you, to visit the school. I am a teacher
+myself."
+
+"You do us great honor, and I assure you that you are very welcome--very
+welcome. Come in."
+
+The scholars stared, and presented a very strange appearance. The boys
+were dressed in buckskin breeches and linsey-woolsey shirts, and the
+girls in homespun gowns of most economical patterns. The furniture
+seemed all pegs and puncheons. The one cheerful object in the room was
+the enormous fireplace. The pupils delighted to keep this fed with fuel
+in the chilly winter days, and the very ashes had cheerful suggestions.
+It was all ashes now, for the sun was high, and the spring falls warm
+and early in the forests of southern Indiana.
+
+It was past mid afternoon, and the slanting sun was glimmering in the
+tops of the gigantic forest-trees seen from the open door.
+
+"We have nearly completed the exercises of the day," said Mr. Crawford.
+"I have yet to hear the spelling-class, and to conduct the exercises in
+manners. I teach manners. Shall I go on in the usual way?"
+
+"Yes, yes, may it please you--yes, in the usual way--in the usual way.
+You are very kind."
+
+"You do me great honor.--The class in spelling," said Mr. Crawford,
+turning to the school. Five boys and girls stood up, and came to an open
+space in front of the desk. The recitation of this class was something
+most odd and amusing to Jasper, and so it would seem to a teacher of
+to-day.
+
+"_Incompatibility_" said Mr. Crawford. "You may make your manners and
+spell _incompatibility_, Sarah."
+
+A tall girl with a high forehead and very short dress gave a modest and
+abashed glance at the wandering visitor, blushed, courtesied very low,
+and thus began the rhythmic exercise of spelling the word in the
+old-time way:
+
+"I-n, in; there's your in. C-o-m, com, incom; there's your incom; incom.
+P-a-t, pat, compat, incompat; there's your incompat; incompat. I-, pati,
+compati, incompati; there's your incompati; incompati. B-i-l, bil; ibil,
+patibil, compatibil, incompatibil; there's your incompatibil;
+incompatibil. I-, bili, patibili, compatibili, incompatibili; there's
+your incompatibili; incompatibili. T-y, ty, ity, bility, ibility,
+patibility, compatibility, incompatibility; there's your
+incompatibility; _incompatibility_."
+
+The girl seemed dazed after this mazy effort. Mr. Crawford bowed, and
+Jasper the Parable looked serene, and remarked, encouragingly:
+
+"Extraordinary! I never heard a word spelled in that way. This is an
+age of wonders. One meets with strange things everywhere. I should think
+that that girl would make a teacher one day; and the new country will
+soon need teachers. The girl did well."
+
+"You do me great honor," said Mr. Crawford, bowing like a courtier. "I
+appreciate it, I assure you; I appreciate it, and thank you. I have
+aimed to make my school the best in the country. Your commendation
+encourages me to hope that I have not failed."
+
+But these polite and generous compliments were exchanged a little too
+soon. The next word that Mr. Crawford gave out from the "Speller" was
+_obliquity_.
+
+"Jason, make your manners and spell _obliquity_. Take your hands out of
+your pockets; that isn't manners. Take your hands out of your pockets
+and spell _obliquity_."
+
+Jason was a tall lad, in a jean blouse and leather breeches. His hair
+was tangled and his ankles were bare. He seemed to have a loss of
+confidence, but he bobbed his head for manners, and began to spell in a
+very loud voice, that had in it almost the sharpness of defiance.
+
+"O-b, ob; there's your ob; ob." He made a leer. "L-i-k, lik, oblik;
+there's your oblik--"
+
+"No," said Mr. Crawford, with a look of vexation and disappointment.
+"Try again."
+
+Jason took a higher key of voice.
+
+"Wall, O-b, ob; there's your ob; ain't it? L-i-c-k, and there's your
+lick--"
+
+"Take your seat!" thundered Mr. Crawford. "I'll give you a _lick_ after
+school. Think of bringing obliquity upon the school in the presence of
+a teacher from the Old World! Next!"
+
+But the next pupil became lost in the mazes of the improved method of
+spelling, and the class brought dishonor upon the really conscientious
+and ambitious teacher.
+
+The exercise in manners partly redeemed the disaster.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, stand up."
+
+A tall boy arose, and his head almost touched the ceiling. He was
+dressed in a linsey-woolsey frock, with buckskin breeches which were
+much too short for him. His ankles were exposed, and his feet were
+poorly covered. His face was dark and serious. He did not look like one
+whom an unseen Power had chosen to control one day the destiny of
+nations, to call a million men to arms, and to emancipate a race.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, you may go out, and come in and be introduced."
+
+It required but a few steps to take the young giant out of the door. He
+presently returned, knocking.
+
+"James Sparrow, you may go to the door," said Mr. Crawford.
+
+The boy arose, went to the door, and bowed very properly.
+
+"Good-afternoon, Mr. Lincoln. I am glad to see you. Come in. If it
+please you, I will present you to my friends."
+
+Abraham entered, as in response to this courtly parrot-talk.
+
+"Mr. Crawford, may I have the honor of presenting to you my friend
+Abraham Lincoln?--Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Crawford."
+
+[Illustration: THE TUNKER SCHOOLMASTER'S CLASS IN MANNERS.]
+
+Mr. Crawford bowed slowly and condescendingly. Abraham was then
+introduced to each of the members of the school, and the exercise was a
+very creditable one, under the untoward circumstances. And this shall be
+our own introduction to one of the heroes of our story, and, following
+this odd introduction, we will here make our readers somewhat better
+acquainted with Jasper the Parable.
+
+He was born in Thuringia, not far from the Baths of Liebenstein. His
+father was a German, but his mother was of English descent, and he had
+visited England with her in his youth, and so spoke the English language
+naturally and perfectly. He had become an advocate of the plans of
+Pestalozzi, the father of common-school education, in his early life.
+One of the most intimate friends of his youth was Froebel, afterward the
+founder of the kindergarten system of education. With Froebel he had
+entered the famous regiment of Luetzow; he had met Koerner, and sang the
+"Wild Hunt of Luetzow," by Von Weber, as it came from the composer's pen,
+the song which is said to have driven Napoleon over the Rhine. He had
+married, lost wife and children, become melancholy and despondent, and
+finally fallen under the influence of the preaching of a Tunker, and had
+taken the resolution to give up himself entirely, his will and desires,
+and to live only for others, and to follow the spiritual impression,
+which he believed to be the Divine will. He was simple and sincere. His
+friends had treated him ill on his becoming a Tunker, but he forgave
+them all, and said: "You reject me from your hearts and homes. I will go
+to the new country, and perhaps I may find there a better place for us
+all. If I do, I will return to you and treat you as Joseph treated his
+brethren. You are oppressed; you have to bear arms for years. I am left
+alone in the world. Something calls me over the sea."
+
+He lived near Marienthal, the Vale of Mary. It was a lovely place, and
+his heart loved it and all the old German villages, with their songs and
+children's festivals, churches, and graves. He bade farewell to Froebel.
+"I am going to study life," he said, "in the wilderness of the New
+World." He came to Pennsylvania, and met the Brethren there who had come
+from Germany, and then traveled with an Indian agent to Rock Island,
+Illinois, where he had met Black Hawk. Here he resolved to become a
+traveling teacher, preacher, and missionary, after the usages of his
+order, and he asked Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide.
+
+"Return to me in May," said the chief, "and I will provide you with as
+noble a son of the forest as ever breathed the air."
+
+He returned to Ohio, and was now on his way to visit the old chief
+again.
+
+The country was a wonder to him. Coming from middle Germany and the
+Rhine lands, everything seemed vast and limitless. The prairies with
+their bluebells, the prairie islands with their giant trees, the forests
+that shaded the streams, were all like a legend, a fairy story, a dream.
+He admired the heroic spirit of the pioneers, and he took the Indians to
+his heart. In this spirit he began to travel over the unbroken prairies
+of Indiana and Illinois.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THOMAS LINCOLN'S FAMILY STORIES.
+
+
+The red sun was glimmering through the leafless boughs of the great oaks
+when Jasper again came to the gate of Thomas Lincoln's log cabin. Mr.
+Crawford had remained after school with the tall boy who had brought
+"obliquity" upon the spelling-class. Tradition reports that there was a
+great rattling of leather breeches, and expostulations, and lamentations
+at such solemn, private interviews. Mr. Crawford, who was "great on
+thrashing," no doubt did his duty as he understood it at that private
+session at sundown. Sticks were plenty in those days, and the will to
+use them strong among most pioneer schoolmasters.
+
+Abraham Lincoln and his sister accompanied Jasper to the log-house. They
+heard the lusty cry for consideration and mercy in the log school-house
+as they were going, and stopped to listen. Jasper did not approve of
+this rugged discipline.
+
+"I should not treat the boy in that way," said he philosophically.
+
+"You wouldn't?" said Abraham. "Why? Crawford is a great teacher; he
+knows everything. He can cipher as far as the rule of three."
+
+"Yes, lad, but the true purpose of education is to form character. Fear
+does not make true worth, but counterfeit character. If education fails
+to produce real character, it fails utterly. True education is a matter
+of the soul as much as of the mind. It should make a boy want to do
+right because it is the right thing to do right. Anything that fails to
+produce character for its own sake, and not for a selfish reason, is a
+mistake. But what am I doing--criticising? Now, that is wrong. I seemed
+to be talking with Froebel. Yes, Crawford is a great teacher, all things
+considered. He does well who does his best. You have a great school. It
+is not like the old German schools, but you do well."
+
+Jasper began a discourse about Pestalozzi and that great thinker's views
+of universal education. But the words were lost on the air. The views of
+Pestalozzi were not much discussed in southern Indiana at this time,
+though the idea of common-school education prevailed everywhere.
+
+Thomas Lincoln stood at the gate awaiting the return of Jasper.
+
+"I'm proper glad that you've come back to see us all," said he. "Wife
+has been lookin' for ye. What did you think of the school? Great, isn't
+it? That Crawford is a big man in these parts. They say he can cipher to
+the rule of three, whatever that may be. Indiana is going to be great on
+education, in my opinion."
+
+He was right. Indiana, with an investment of some ten million of dollars
+for public education, and with an army of well-trained teachers, leads
+the middle West in the excellence of her schools. Her model school
+system, which to-day would delight a Pestalozzi or a Froebel, had its
+rude beginning in schools like Crawford's.
+
+"Come, come in," said Thomas Lincoln, and led the way into the
+log-house.
+
+"This is my wife," said he to Jasper.
+
+The woman had a serene and benevolent face. Her features were open and
+plain, but there was heart-life in them. It was a face that could have
+been molded only by a truly good heart. It was strong, long-suffering,
+sympathetic, and self-restrained. Her forehead was high and thoughtful,
+her eyes large and expressive, and her voice loving and cheerful. Jasper
+felt at once that he was in the presence of a woman of decision of
+character.
+
+"Then you are a Tunker," she said. "I am a Baptist, too, but not your
+kind. But such things matter little if the heart is right."
+
+"You have well said," answered Jasper. "The true life is in the soul. We
+both belong to the same kingdom, and shall have the same life and drink
+from the same fountain and eat the same bread. Have you been here long?"
+
+"Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "and we have seen some dark days. We lived
+in the half-faced camp out yonder when I first came here. My first wife
+died of milk-sickness here. She was Abraham's mother. Ever heard of the
+milk-sickness, as the fever was called? It swept away a great many of
+the early inhabitants. Those were dark, dark days. I shall never forget
+them."
+
+"So your real mother is dead," said Jasper to Abraham.
+
+"I try to be a mother to him, poor boy," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Abraham is
+good to me and to everybody; one of the best boys I ever knew, though I
+ought not to praise him to his face. He does the best he can."
+
+"Awful lazy. You didn't tell that," said Thomas Lincoln; "all head and
+books. He is. I believe in tellin' the whole truth."
+
+"Oh, well," said Mrs. Lincoln, "some persons work with their hands, and
+some with their heads, and some with their hearts. Abraham's head is
+always at work--he isn't like most other boys. And as far as his
+heart--Well, I do love that boy, and I am his step-mother, too. He's
+always been so good to me that I love to tell on't. His father, I'm
+thinkin', is rather hard on him sometimes. Abe's heart knows mine and I
+know his'n, and I couldn't think more on him if he was my own son. His
+poor mother sleeps out there under the great trees; but I mean to be
+such a mother to him that he will never know no difference."
+
+"Yes," said Thomas Lincoln, "Abraham does middlin' well, considerin'.
+But he does provoke me sometimes. He would provoke old Job himself. Why,
+he will take a book with him into the corn-field, and he reads and
+reads, and his head gets loose and goes off into the air, and he puts
+the pumpkin-seeds in the wrong hills, like as not. He is great on the
+English Reader. I'd just like for you to hear him recite poetry out of
+that book. He's great on poetry; writes it himself. But that isn't
+neither here nor there. Come, preacher, we'll have some supper."
+
+The Tunker lifted his hand and said grace, after which the family sat
+down to the table.
+
+"We used to eat off a puncheon when we first came to these parts," said
+Mr. Lincoln. "We had no beds, and we slept on a floor of pounded clay.
+My new wife brought all of this grand furniture to me. That beereau
+looks extravagant--now don't it?--for poor folks, too. I sometimes think
+that she ought to sell it. I am told that in a city place it would be
+worth as much as fifty dollars."
+
+There were indeed a few good articles of furniture in the house.
+
+The supper consisted of corn-bread of very rough meal, and of bacon,
+eggs, and coffee.
+
+"Do you smoke?" asked Mr. Lincoln, when the meal was over.
+
+"No," said Jasper. "I have given up everything of that kind, luxuries,
+and even my own name. Let us talk about our experiences. There is no
+news in the world like the news from the soul. A man's inner life and
+experience are about all that is worth talking about. It is the king
+that makes the crown."
+
+But Thomas Lincoln was not a man of deep inward experiences and
+subjective ideas, though his first wife had been such a person, and
+would have delighted Jasper. Mr. Lincoln liked best to talk about his
+family and the country, and was more interested in the slow news that
+came from the new settlements than in the revelations from a higher
+world. His former wife, Abraham's mother, had been a mystic, but there
+was little sentiment in him.
+
+"You said that you were going to meet Black Hawk," said Mr. Lincoln.
+"Where do you expect to find him? He's everywhere, ain't he?"
+
+"I am going to the Sac village at Rock Island. It is a long journey, but
+the Voice tells me to go."
+
+"That is away across the Illinois, on the Mississippi River, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, the Sac village looks down on the Mississippi. It is a beautiful
+place. The prairies spread around it like seas. I love to think of it.
+It commands a noble view. I do not wonder that the Indians love it, and
+made it the burial-place of their race. I would love it myself."
+
+"You favor the Indians, do you?"
+
+"Yes. All men are my brothers. The field is the world. I am going to try
+to preach and teach among the Sacs and Foxes, as soon as I can find an
+interpreter, and Black Hawk has promised me one. He has sent for him to
+come down to Rock Island and meet me. He lives at Prairie du Chien, far
+away in the north, I am told."
+
+"Don't you have any antipathy against the Indians, preacher?"
+
+"No, none at all. Do you?"
+
+"My father was murdered by an Indian. Let me tell you about it. Not that
+I want to discourage you--you mean well; but I don't feel altogether as
+you do about the red-skins, preacher. You and Abe would agree better on
+the subject than you and I. Abe is tender-hearted--takes after his
+mother."
+
+Thomas Lincoln filled his pipe. "Abe," as his oldest boy was called, sat
+in the fireplace, "the flue," as it was termed. By his side sat John
+Hanks, who had recently arrived from Kentucky--a rough, kindly-looking
+man.
+
+[Illustration: LINES WRITTEN BY LINCOLN ON THE LEAF OF HIS SCHOOL-BOOK
+IN HIS FOURTEENTH YEAR.
+
+Preserved by his Step-mother.
+
+_Original in possession of J. W. Weik._]
+
+"Wait a minute," said great-hearted Mrs. Lincoln--"wait a minute before
+you begin."
+
+"What are you going to do, mother (wife)?"
+
+"I'm just going to set these potatoes to roast before the fire, so we
+can have a little treat all by ourselves when you have got through your
+story. There, that is all."
+
+The poor woman sat down by the table--she had brought the table to her
+husband on her marriage; he probably never owned a table--and began to
+knit, saying:
+
+"Abraham, you mind the potatoes. Don't let 'em burn."
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"Mother"--the word seemed to make her happy. Her face lighted. She sat
+knitting for an hour, silent and serene, while Thomas Lincoln talked.
+
+
+_THOMAS LINCOLN'S STORY._
+
+"My father," began the old story-teller, "came to Kentucky from
+Virginia. His name was Abraham Lincoln. I have always thought that was a
+good, solid name--a worthy name--and so I gave it to my boy here, and
+hope that he will never bring any disgrace upon it. I never can be much
+in this world; Abe may.
+
+"This was in Daniel Boone's day. On our way to Kentucky we began to hear
+terrible stories of the Indian attacks on the new settlers. In 1780, the
+year that we emigrated from Virginia, there were many murders of the
+settlers by the Indians, which were followed by the battle of Lower Blue
+Licks, in which Boone's son was wounded.
+
+"I have heard my mother and the old settlers talk over that battle.
+When Daniel Boone found that his son was wounded, he tried to carry him
+away. There was a river near, and he lifted the boy upon his back and
+hurried toward it. As he came to the river, the boy grew heavy.
+
+"'Father, I believe that I am dying,' said the boy.
+
+"'We will be across the river soon,' said Boone. 'Hold on.'
+
+"The boy clung to his father's neck with stiffening arms. While they
+were crossing the river the son died. Oh, it was a sight for pity--now,
+wasn't it, preacher? Boone in the river, with the dead body of his boy
+on his back. Our country has known few scenes like that. How that father
+must 'a' felt! You furriners little know these things.
+
+"The Indians swam after him. He laid down the body of his son on the
+ground and struck into the forest.
+
+"It was in this war that Boone's little daughter was carried away by the
+Indians. I must tell ye. I love to talk of old times.
+
+"She was at play with two other little girls outside of the stockade at
+Boonesborough, on the Kentucky River. There was a canoe on the bank.
+
+"'Let us take the canoe and go across the river,' said one of the girls,
+innocent-like.
+
+"Well, they got into the boat and paddled across the running river to
+the opposite side. They reached shallow water, when a party of Indians,
+who had been watching them, cunning-like, stole out of the thick trees
+'n' rushed down to the canoe 'n' drew it to the shore. The girls
+screamed, and their cries were heard at the fort.
+
+"Night was falling. Three of the Indians took a little girl apiece,
+and, looking back to the fort in the sunset, uttered a shriek of
+defiance, such as would ha' made yer flesh creep, and disappeared in the
+timber.
+
+"That night a party was got together at the fort to pursue the Indians
+and rescue the children.
+
+"Well, near the close of the next day the party came upon these Indians,
+some forty miles from the fort. They approached the camp cautiously,
+coyote-like, 'n' saw that the girls were there.
+
+"'Shoot carefully, now,' said the leader. 'Each man bring down an
+Indian, or the children will be killed before we can reach them.'
+
+"They fired upon the Indians, picking out the three who were nearest the
+children. Not one of the Indians was hit, but the whole party was
+terribly frightened, leaped up, 'n' run like deer. The children were
+rescued unharmed 'n' taken back to the fort. You would think them was
+pretty hard times, wouldn't ye?
+
+"There was one event that happened at the time about which I have heard
+the old folks tell, with staring eyes, and I will never forget it. The
+Indians came one night to attack a log-house in which were a man, his
+wife, and daughter, named Merrill. They did not wish to burn the cabin,
+but to enter it and make captives of the family; so they cut a hole in
+the door, with their hatchets, large enough to crawl through one at a
+time. They wounded Mr. Merrill outright.
+
+"But Mrs. Merrill was a host in herself. Her only weapon was an axe, and
+there never was fought in Kentucky, or anywhere else in the world, I'm
+thinkin', such another battle as that.
+
+"The leader of the Indians put his head through the hole in the door and
+began to crawl into the room, slowly--slowly--so--"
+
+Mr. Lincoln put out his great arms, and moved his hands mysteriously.
+
+"Well," he continued, "what do you suppose happened? Mrs. Merrill she
+dealt that Indian a death-blow on the head with the axe, just like
+_that_, and then drew him in slowly, slowly. The Indians without thought
+that he had crawled in himself, and another Indian followed him slowly,
+slowly. That Indian received his death-blow on the head, and was pulled
+in like the first, slowly. Another and another Indian were treated in
+the same way, until the dark cabin floor presented an awful scene for
+the morning.
+
+"Only one or two were left without. The women felt that they were now
+the masters in the contest, and stood looking on what they had done.
+There fell a silence over the place. Still, awful still everywhere. What
+a silence it was! The two Indians outside listened. Why were their
+comrades so still? What had happened? Why was everything so still? One
+of them tried to look through the hole in the door into the dark and
+bloody room. Then the two attempted to climb down the chimney from the
+low roof of the cabin, but Mrs. Merrill put her bed into the fireplace
+and set it on fire.
+
+"Such were some of the scenes of my father's few years of life in
+Kentucky; and now comes the most dreadful memory of all. Oh, it makes me
+wild to think o' it! Preacher, as I said, my father was killed by the
+Indians. You did not know that before, did you? No; well, it was so.
+Abraham Lincoln was shot by the red-skins. I was with him at the time, a
+little boy then, and I shall never forget that awful morning--never,
+never!--Abraham, mind the potatoes; you've heard the story a hundred
+times."
+
+Young Abraham Lincoln turned the potatoes and brightened the fire.
+Thomas Lincoln bent over and rested his body on his knees, and held his
+pipe out in one hand.
+
+"Preacher, listen. One morning father looked out of the cabin door, and
+said to mother:
+
+"'I must go to the field and build a fence to-day. I will let Tommy go
+with me.'
+
+"I was Tommy. I was six years old then. He loved me, and liked to have
+me with him. It was in the year 1784--I never shall forget the dark days
+of that year!--never, never.
+
+"I had two brothers older than myself, Mordecai and Josiah. We give boys
+Scriptur' names in those days. They had gone to work in another field
+near by.
+
+"We went to the field where the rails were to be cut and laid, and
+father began to work. He was a great, noble-looking man, and a true
+pioneer. I can see him now. I was playing near him, when suddenly there
+came a shot as it were out of the air. My poor father reeled over and
+fell down dead. What must have been his last thoughts of my mother and
+her five children? I have often thought of that--what must have been his
+last thoughts? Well, Preacher, you listen.
+
+"A band of Indians came leaping out of the bush howling like demons. I
+fell upon the ground. I can sense the fright now. A tall, black Indian,
+with a face like a wolf, came and stood over me, and was about to seize
+hold of me. I could hear him breathe. There came a shot from the house,
+and the Indian dropped down beside me, dead. My brother Mordecai had
+seen father fall, 'n' ran to the house 'n' fired that shot that saved my
+life. Josiah had gone to the stockade for help, and he returned soon
+with armed men, and the Indians disappeared.
+
+"O Preacher, those were dark days, wasn't they? Dark, dark days! You
+never saw such. They took up my father's body--what a sight!--and bore
+it into the cabin. You should have seen my poor mother then. What was to
+help us? Only the blue heavens were left us then. What could we do? My
+mother and five children alone in the wilderness full of savages!
+
+"Preacher, I have seen dark days! I have known what it was to be poor
+and supperless and friendless; but I never sought revenge on the
+Indians, though Mordecai did. I'm glad that you're going to preach among
+them. I couldn't do it, with such memories as mine, perhaps; but I'm
+glad you can, 'n' I hope that you will go and do them good. Heaven bless
+those who seek to do good in this sinful world--"
+
+"Abraham, are the potatoes done?" said a gentle voice.
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"Then pass them 'round. Give the preacher one first; then your father. I
+do not care for any."
+
+The tall boy passed the roasted potatoes around as directed. Jasper ate
+his potato in silence. The stories of the hardships of this forest
+family had filled his heart with sympathy, and Thomas Lincoln had
+_acted_ the stories that he told in such a way as to leave a most vivid
+impression on his mind.
+
+"These stories make you sad," said Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper. "They are
+heart-rendin', and I sometimes think it is almost wrong to tell them. Do
+you think it is right to tell a story that awakens hard and rebellious
+feelin's? 'Evil communications corrupt good manners,' the Good Book
+says. I sometimes wish that folks would tell only stories that are good,
+and make one the better for hearin'--parables like."
+
+"My heart feels for you all," said Jasper. "I feel for everybody. This
+life is all new to me."
+
+"Let us have something more cheerful now," said Mrs. Lincoln.--"Abraham,
+recite to the preacher a piece from the English Reader."
+
+"Which one, mother?"
+
+"The Hermit--how would that do? I don't know much about poetry, but
+Abraham does. He makes it up. It is a queer turn of mind he has. He
+learns all the poetry that he can find, and makes it up himself out of
+his own head. He's got poetry in him, though he don't look so. How he
+ever does it, puzzles me. His mother was poetic like. It is a gift, like
+grace. Where do you suppose it comes from, and what will he ever do with
+it? He ain't like other boys. He's kind o' peculiar some.--Come,
+Abraham, recite to us The Hermit. It is a proper good piece."
+
+The tall boy came out of "the flue" and stood before the dying fire. The
+old leather-covered English Reader, which he said in later life was the
+best book ever written, lay on the table before him. He did not open it,
+however. He put his hands behind him and raised his dark face as in a
+kind of abstraction. He began to recite slowly in a clear voice, full
+of a peculiar sympathy that gave color to every word. He seemed as
+though he felt that the experience of the poet was somehow a prophecy of
+his own life; and it was. He himself became a skeptical man in religious
+thought, but returned to the simple faith of his ancestors amid the dark
+scenes of war.
+
+The poem was a beautiful one in form and soul, an old English pastoral,
+by Beattie. How grand it seemed, even to unpoetic Thomas Lincoln, as it
+flowed from the lips of his studious son!
+
+_THE HERMIT._
+
+    At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
+      And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove;
+    When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill,
+      And naught but the nightingale's song in the grove:
+    'Twas thus, by the cave of the mountain afar,
+      While his harp rung symphonious, a hermit began;
+    No more with himself or with Nature at war,
+      He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man:
+
+    "Ah, why, all abandoned to darkness and woe,
+      Why, lone Philomela, that languishing fall?
+    For spring shall return, and a lover bestow,
+      And sorrow no longer thy bosom inthrall.
+    But, if pity inspire thee, renew the sad lay,
+      Mourn, sweetest complainer, man calls thee to mourn;
+    O soothe him whose pleasures like thine pass away:
+      Full quickly they pass--but they never return.
+
+    "Now gliding remote, on the verge of the sky,
+      The moon, half extinguished, her crescent displays:
+    But lately I marked when majestic on high
+      She shone, and the planets were lost in her blaze.
+    Roll on, thou fair orb, and with gladness pursue
+      The path that conducts thee to splendor again:
+    But man's faded glory what change shall renew?
+      Ah, fool! to exult in a glory so vain!
+
+    "'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more:
+      I mourn; but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;
+    For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
+      Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glitt'ring with dew.
+    Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;
+      Kind Nature the embryo blossom will save:
+    But when shall spring visit the moldering urn?
+      Oh, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave?
+
+    "'Twas thus by the glare of false science betrayed,
+      That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind;
+    My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade,
+      Destruction before me, and sorrow behind.
+    'Oh pity, great Father of light,' then I cried,
+      'Thy creature who fain would not wander from thee!
+    Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride:
+      From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free.'
+
+    "And darkness and doubt are now flying away;
+      No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn:
+    So breaks on the traveler, faint and astray,
+      The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.
+    See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph descending,
+      And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!
+    On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending,
+      And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb."
+
+Mrs. Lincoln used to listen to such recitations as this from the English
+Readers and Kentucky Orators with delight and wonder. She loved the boy
+with all her heart. In all the biographies of Lincoln there is hardly a
+more pathetic incident than one told by Mr. Herndon of his visit to Mrs.
+Lincoln after the assassination and the national funeral. Mr. Herndon
+was the law partner of Lincoln for many years, and we give the incident
+here, out of place as it is. Mrs. Lincoln said to her step-son's friend:
+
+"Abe was a poor boy, and I can say what scarcely one woman--a
+mother--can say, in a thousand: Abe never gave me a cross word or look,
+and never refused, in fact or appearance, to do anything I requested
+him. I never gave him a cross word in all my life.... His mind and my
+mind--what little I had--seemed to run together.... He was here after he
+was elected President." Here she stopped, unable to proceed any further,
+and after her grateful emotions had spent themselves in tears, she
+proceeded: "He was dutiful to me always. I think he loved me truly. I
+had a son, John, who was raised with Abe. Both were good boys; but I
+must say, both being now dead, that Abe was the best boy I ever saw or
+ever expect to see. I wish I had died when my husband died. I did not
+want Abe to run for President, did not want him elected; was afraid,
+somehow--felt it in my heart; and when he came down to see me, after he
+was elected President, I felt that something would befall him, and that
+I should see him no more."
+
+Equally beautiful was the scene when Lincoln visited this good woman for
+the last time, just before going to Washington to be inaugurated
+President.
+
+"Abraham," she said, as she stood in her humble backwoods cabin,
+"something tells me that I shall never see you again."
+
+He put his hand around her neck, lifted her face to heaven and said,
+"Mother!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE OLD BLACKSMITH'S SHOP AND THE MERRY STORY-TELLERS.
+
+
+_JOHNNIE KONGAPOD'S INCREDIBLE STORY._
+
+The country store, in most new settlements, is the resort of
+story-tellers. It was not so here. There was a log blacksmith-shop by
+the wayside near the Gentryville store, overspread by the cool boughs of
+pleasant trees, and having a glowing forge and wide-open doors, which
+was a favorite resort of 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 clear practical thought to Legislatures,
+senates, and councils of war. Abraham Lincoln claimed that he obtained
+his education by learning all that he could of any one who could teach
+him anything. In all the curious stories told in his hearing in this
+quaint Indiana smithy, he read some lesson of life.
+
+The old blacksmith was a natural story-teller. Young Lincoln liked to
+warm himself by the forge in winter and sun himself in the open door in
+summer, and tempt this sinewy man to talk. The smithy was a common
+resort of Thomas Lincoln, 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-stand of that day, the
+literary club, the lecture platform, the place of amusement, and
+everything that stirred associated life, found its common center in this
+rude old smithy by the wayside, amid the running brooks and fanning
+trees.
+
+The stories told here were the curious incidents and adventures of
+pioneer life, rude in fact and rough in language, but having pith and
+point.
+
+Thomas Lincoln, on the afternoon of the next day, said to Jasper:
+
+"Come, preacher, let's go over to the smithy. I want ye to see the
+blacksmith. We all like to see the blacksmith in these parts; he's an
+uncommon man."
+
+They went to the smithy. Abraham followed them. The forge was low, and
+the blacksmith was hammering over old nails on the anvil.
+
+"Hello!" said Thomas Lincoln; "not doin' much to-day. I brought the
+preacher over to call on you--he's a Tunker--has been to see the
+school--he teaches himself--thought you'd want to know him."
+
+"Glad you come. Here, sit down in the leather chair, and make yourself
+at home. Been long in these new parts?"
+
+"No, my friend; I have been to Illinois, but I have never been here
+before. I am glad to see you."
+
+[Illustration: STORY-TELLING AT THE SMITHY.]
+
+"What do you think of the country?" said the blacksmith. "Think it is a
+good place to settle in? Hope that you have come to cast your lot with
+us. We need 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 and prairies. I hope that you will like it, and
+get your folks to come. We'll do all we can for you. We be men of good
+will, if we be hard-looking and poor."
+
+"My good friend, I believe you. You are great-hearted men, and I like
+you."
+
+"Brainy, too. Let me start up the forge."
+
+"Preacher, come here," said Thomas Lincoln. "I haven't had no edication
+to speak of, but I've invented a new system of book-keepin' that beats
+the schools. There's one of them there. The blacksmith keeps all of his
+accounts by it. I've got one on a puncheon at home; did you notice it?
+This is how it is; you may want to use it yourself. Come and look at
+it."
+
+On a rough board over the forge Thomas Lincoln had drawn a number of
+straight lines with a coal, as are sometimes put on a blackboard by a
+singing-master. On the lower bars were several cloudy erasures, and at
+the end of these bars were initials.
+
+"Don't understand it, do you? Well, now, it is perfectly simple. I
+taught it to Aunt Olive, and she don't know more than some whole
+families, though she thinks that she knows more than the whole creation.
+Seen such people, 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 sermons, and you can't collect them all the time. Well,
+all you have to do is just to draw your finger across one of them lines,
+and write his initials after it. And when he comes again, rub out
+another place on the same lines."
+
+"And when you have rubbed out all the places you could along that line,
+how much would you be worth?" said the blacksmith.
+
+"I call that a new way of keeping accounts," continued Thomas Lincoln,
+earnestly. "Did you ever see anything of the kind before? No. It's a new
+and original way. We do a great lot o' thinkin' down here in
+winter-time, when we haven't much else to do. I'm goin' to put one o'
+them new systems into the mill."
+
+The meetings of the pioneers at the blacksmith's shop formed a kind of
+merry-go-round club. One would tell a story in his own odd way, and
+another would say, "That reminds me," and tell a similar story that was
+intended to exceed the first in point of humor. One of Thomas Lincoln's
+favorite stories was "GL-UK!" or, as he sometimes termed it--
+
+
+"_HOW ABRAHAM WENT TO MILL._
+
+"It was a mighty curi's happenin'," he would say. "I don't know how to
+account for it--the human mind is a very strange thing. We 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 again; if it have the new
+life and sense, it wakes again somewhere. We're curi's critters, all on
+us, and don't know what we are.
+
+"When I first came to Indiana I made a mill of my own--Abe and I did.
+'Twas just a big stone attached to a heavy pole like a well-sweep, so as
+to pound heavy, up and down, up and down. You can see it now, though it
+is all out of gear and kilter.
+
+"Then, they built a mill 'way down on the river, and I used to send Abe
+there on horseback. Took him all day to go and come: used to start early
+in the mornin', and, as he had to wait his turn at the mill, 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 he goes round
+and round, and never gets nowhere, but he grinds the corn and wheat.
+Something like me: I go round and round, and never seem to get anywhere,
+but something will come of it, you may depend.
+
+"Well, one day I says to Abraham:
+
+"You must hitch up the horse and go to Gordon's to mill. The meal-tub is
+low, and there's a storm a-brewin'.'
+
+"So Abe hitched up the horse and started. That horse is a mighty steady
+animal--goes around just like a machine; hasn't any capers nor
+antics--just as sober as a minister. I should have no more thought of
+his kickin' than I should have thought of the millstones a-hoppin' out
+of the hopper. 'Twas a mighty curi's affair.
+
+"Well, Abe went to Gordon's, and his turn come to grind. He hitched the
+horse to the pole, and said, as always, 'Get up, you old jade!' I always
+say that, so Abe does. He didn't mean any disrespect to the horse, who
+always maintained a very respectable-like character up to that day.
+
+"The horse went round and round, round and round, just as steady as
+clock-work, until the grist was nearly out, and the 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 jade!' then puckered up his
+mouth, so, to say 'Gluck.' 'Tis a word I taught him to use. Every one
+has his own horse-talk.
+
+"He waved his stick, and said 'Gl--'
+
+"Was the horse bewildered? He never did such a thing before. In an
+instant, like a thunder-clap when the sun was shinin', he h'isted up his
+heels and kicked Abraham in the head, and knocked him over on the
+ground, and then stopped as though to think on what he had done.
+
+"The mill-hands ran to Abraham. There the boy lay stretched out on the
+ground just as though he was dead. They thought he was dead. They got
+some water, and worked over him a spell. They could see that he
+breathed, but they thought that every breath would be his last.
+
+"'He's done for this world,' said Gordon. 'He'll never come to his
+senses again. Thomas Lincoln would be proper sorry.' And so I should
+have been had Abraham died. Sometimes I think like it was the Evil One
+that possessed that horse. It don't seem to me that he'd 'a' ever ha'
+kicked Abe of his own self--right in the head, too. You can see the scar
+on him now.
+
+"Well, almost an hour passed, when Abe came to himself--consciousness
+they call it--all at once, in an instant. And what do you think was the
+first thing he said? Just this--'uk!'
+
+"He finished the word just where he left it when the horse kicked him,
+and looked around wild-like, and there was the critter standin' still as
+the mill-stun.' Now, where do you think the soul of Abe was between
+'Gl--' and 'uk'? I'd like to have ye tell me that."
+
+A long discussion would follow such a question. Abraham Lincoln himself
+once discussed the same curious incident with his law-partner Herndon,
+and made it a subject of the continuance of mental consciousness after
+death.
+
+It was a warm afternoon. A dark cloud hung in the northern sky, and grew
+slowly over the arch of serene and sunny blue.
+
+"Goin' to have a storm," said the blacksmith. "Shouldn't wonder if it
+were a tempest. We generally get a tempest about this time of year, when
+winter finally breaks up into spring. Well, I declare! there comes
+Johnnie Kongapod, the Kickapoo Indian from Illinois--he and his dogs."
+
+A tall Indian was seen coming toward the smithy, followed by two dogs.
+The men watched him as he approached. He was a kind of chief, and had
+accepted the teachings 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 heart. He once composed an epitaph
+for himself, which was well meant but read oddly, and which Abraham
+Lincoln sometimes used to quote in his professional career:
+
+    "Here lies poor Johnnie Kongapod,
+    Have mercy on him, gracious God,
+    As he would do if he was God,
+    And you were Johnnie Kongapod."
+
+The Indian sat down on the log sill of the blacksmith's shop, and
+watched the gathering cloud as it slowly shut out the sky.
+
+"Storm," said he. "Lay down, Jack; lay down, Jim."
+
+Jack and Jim were his two dogs. They eyed the flaming forge. One of them
+seemed tired, and lay down beside his master, but the other made himself
+troublesome.
+
+"That reminds me," said Dennis Hanks; and he related a curious story of
+a troublesome dog, perhaps the one which in its evolutions 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. Lincoln himself is represented as telling
+this, or a like story, to General Grant after the Vicksburg campaign,
+something as follows:
+
+"'Your enemies were constantly coming to me with their criticisms while
+the siege was in progress, and they did not cease their ill opinions
+after the city fell. 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 tried to show me the great mistake that
+you had made in paroling Pemberton's army, I thought I could get rid of
+them best by telling the story of Sykes's dog.
+
+"'Have you ever heard the story of Sykes's dog?' I said to the spokesman
+of the delegation.
+
+"'No.'
+
+"'Well, I must tell it to you. Sykes had a yellow dog that he set great
+store by; but there were a lot of _small boys_ around the village, and
+the dog became very unpopular among them. His eye was so keen on his
+master's interests that there arose prejudice against him. The boys
+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 stood choking,
+when one of them touched off the fuse. There was a loud report. Sykes
+came out of the house, and found the ground was strewed with pieces of
+the dog. He picked up the biggest piece that he could find--a portion of
+the back with the tail still hanging to it--and said:
+
+"'Well, I guess that will never be of much account again--_as a
+dog_.'--'I guess that Pemberton's forces will never amount to much
+again--as an army.' By this time the delegation were looking for their
+hats."
+
+Like stories followed among the merry foresters. One of them told
+another "That reminds me"--how that two boys had been pursued by a small
+but vicious dog, and one of them had caught and held him by the tail
+while the other ran up a tree. At last the boy who was holding the dog
+became tired and knew not what to do, and cried out:
+
+"Jim!"
+
+"What say?"
+
+"Come down."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To help me let go of the dog."
+
+This story, also, whatever may have been the date of it, President
+Lincoln used to tell amid the perplexities of the war. In the darkest
+times of his life at the White House his mind used to return for
+illustration to the stories told at this backwoods smithy, and at the
+country stores that he afterward came to visit at Gentryville, Indiana,
+and New Salem, Illinois.
+
+He delighted in the blacksmith's own stories and jokes. The man's name
+was John Baldwin. He was the Homer of Gentryville, as the village
+portion of this vast unsettled portion of country was called. Dennis
+Hanks, Abraham 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 President, his mind went back to the quaint smithy in the
+cool, free woods, and to the country stores, and he told these stories
+all over again. It seemed restful to his mind to wander back to old
+Indiana and Illinois.
+
+The cloud grew. The air darkened. There was an occasional rustle of wind
+in the tree-tops.
+
+"It's comin'," said the blacksmith. "Now, Johnnie Kongapod, you tell us
+the story. Tell us how Aunt Olive frightened ye when you went to pilot
+her off to the camp-meetin'."
+
+"No," said Johnnie Kongapod. "It thunders. You must get Aunt Olive to
+tell you that story."
+
+"When you come to meet her," said the blacksmith to Jasper. "Kongapod
+would tell it to you, but he's afraid of the cloud. No wonder."
+
+A vivid flash of lightning forked the sky. There followed an appalling
+crash of thunder, a light wind, a few drops of rain, a darker air, and
+all was still. The men looked out as the cloud passed over.
+
+"You will have to stay here now," said the blacksmith, "until the cloud
+has passed. Our stories may seem rather rough to you, edicated as you
+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
+German stories, may be I'll tell you how Johnnie Kongapod here and Aunt
+Olive went to the camp-meetin', and what happened to them on the way."
+
+There was a long silence on the dark air. The blacksmith enlivened the
+fire, which lit up the shop. Jasper sat down in the leather chair, and
+said:
+
+"Those Indian dogs remind me of scenes and stories unlike anything here.
+The life of the dog has its lesson true, and there is nothing truer in
+this world than the heart of a shepherd's dog. I am a shepherd's dog. I
+am speaking in parable; you will understand me better by and by.
+
+"Let me tell you the story of 'THE SHEPHERD DOG,' and the story will
+also tell a story, as do all stories that have a soul; and it is only
+stories that have souls that live. The true story gathers a soul from
+the one who tells it, else it is no story at all.
+
+"There once lived on the borders of the Black Forest, Germany, an old
+couple who were very poor. Their name was Gragstein. The old man kept a
+shepherd dog that had been faithful to him for many years, and that
+loved him more than it did its own life, and he came to call him
+Faithful.
+
+"One day, as the old couple were seated by the fire, Frau Gragstein
+said:
+
+"'Hear the wind blow! There is a hard winter comin', and we have less in
+our crib than we ever had before. We must live snugger than ever. We
+shall hardly have enough to keep us two. It will be a long time before
+the birds sing again. You must be more savin', and begin now. Hear the
+wind howl. It is a warning.'
+
+"'What would you have me do?' asked Gragstein.
+
+"'There are three of us, and we have hardly store for two.'
+
+"'But what would you have me do with _him_? He is old, and I could not
+sell him, or give him away.'
+
+"'Then I would take him away into the forest and shoot him, and run and
+leave him. I know it is hard, but the pinch of poverty is hard, and it
+has come.'
+
+"'Shoot Faithful! Shoot old Faithful! Take him out into the forest and
+shoot him! Why, a man's last friends are his God, his mother, and his
+dog. Would you have me shoot old Faithful? How could I?'
+
+"At the words 'Shoot old Faithful,' the great dog had started up as
+though he understood. He bent his large eyes on the old woman and
+whined, then wheeled around once and sank down at his master's feet.
+
+"'He acts as though he understood what you were saying.'
+
+"'No, he don't,' said the old woman. 'You set too much store by the dog,
+and imagine such things. He's too old to ever be of service to us any
+more, and he eats 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 not see many more. We must live
+while we do live, and the dog must be put out of the way. You must take
+Faithful out into the forest in the morning and kill him.'
+
+"The dog started up again. 'Take Faithful and kill him!' He seemed to
+comprehend. He looked into his master's face and gave a piteous howl,
+and went to the door and pawed.
+
+"'Let him go out,' said the old woman. 'What possesses him to go out
+to-night into the storm? But let him go, and then I can talk easier
+about the matter. Did you see his eyes--as if he knew? He haunts me! Let
+him go out.'
+
+"The old man opened the door, and the dog disappeared in the darkness,
+uttering another piteous howl.
+
+"Then the old couple sat down and talked over the matter, and Gragstein
+promised his wife that he would shoot the dog in the morning.
+
+"'It is hard,' said the old woman, 'but Providence wills it, and we
+must.'
+
+"The wind lulled, and there was heard a wild, pitiful howl far away in
+the forest.
+
+"'What is that?' asked the old woman, starting.
+
+"'It was Faithful.'
+
+"'So far away!'
+
+"'The poor dog acted strange. There it is again, farther away.'
+
+"The morning came, but the dog did not return. He had never stayed away
+from the old hut before. The next day he did not come, nor the next. The
+old couple missed him, and the old man bitterly reproached his wife for
+what she had advised him to do.
+
+"Winter came, with pitiless storms and cold, and the old man would go
+forth to hunt alone, wishing Faithful was with him.
+
+"'It is not safe for me to go alone,' said he. 'I wish that the dog
+would come back.'
+
+"'He will never come back,' said the old woman. 'He is dead. I can hear
+him howl nights, far away on the hill. He haunts me. Every night, when I
+put out the light, I can hear him howl out in the forest. 'Tis my
+tender heart that troubles me. 'Tis a troubled conscience that makes
+ghosts.'
+
+"The old man tottered away with his gun. It was a cold morning after a
+snow. The old woman watched him from the frosty window as he
+disappeared, and muttered:
+
+"'It is hard to be old and poor. God pity us all!'
+
+"Night came, but the old man did not return. The old woman was in great
+distress, and knew not what to do. She set the candle in the window, and
+went to the door and called a hundred times, and listened, but no answer
+came. The silent stars filled the sky, and the moon rose over the snow,
+but no answer came.
+
+"The next morning she alarmed the neighbors, and a company gathered to
+search for Gragstein. The men followed his tracks into the forests, over
+a cliff, and down to a stream of running water. They came to some thin
+ice, which had been weakened by the rush of the current, and there the
+tracks were lost.
+
+"'He attempted to cross,' said one, 'and fell in. We will find his body
+in the spring. I pity his poor old wife. What shall we tell her?--What
+was that?'
+
+"There was heard a pitiful howl on the other side of the stream.
+
+"'Look!' said another.
+
+"Just across the stream a great, lean shepherd dog came out of the snow
+tents of firs. His voice was weak, but he howled pitifully, as though
+calling the men.
+
+"'We must cross the stream!' said they all.
+
+"The men made a bridge by pushing logs and fallen trees across the ice.
+The dog met them joyfully, and they followed him.
+
+"Under the tents of firs they found Gragstein, ready to perish with cold
+and hunger.
+
+"'Take me home!' said he. 'I can not last long. Take me home, and call
+home the dog!'
+
+"'What has happened?' asked the men.
+
+"'I fell in. I called for help, and--the dog came--Faithful. He rescued
+me, but I was numb. He lay down on me and warmed me, and kept me alive.
+Faithful! Call home the dog!'
+
+"The men took up the old man and rubbed him, and gave him food. Then
+they called the dog and gave him food, but he would not eat.
+
+"They returned as fast as they could to the cottage. Frau Gragstein came
+out to meet them. The dog saw her and stopped and howled, dived into the
+forest, and disappeared.
+
+"The old man died that night. They buried him in a few days. The old
+woman was left all alone. The night after the funeral, when she put out
+the light, she thought that she heard a feeble howl in the still 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 evenings of many years,
+lay the body of old Faithful, dead. He had never ceased to watch the
+house, and had died true. 'Tis the best thing that we can say of any
+living creature, man or dog, he was true-hearted.
+
+"Remember the story. It will make you better. The storm is clearing."
+
+The cloud had passed over, leaving behind the blue sky of spring.
+
+"That was an awful good dog to have," said John Hanks. "There are human
+folks wouldn't 'a' done like that."
+
+"I wouldn't," said one of the men. "But here, I declare, comes the old
+woman. Been out neighborin', and got caught in the storm, and gone back
+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,
+elder--she'll tell it to you herself. She's a master-hand to go to
+meetin', and sing, and tell stories, she is.--Here, elder--this is Aunt
+Olive."
+
+The same woman that Jasper had met on his way to Pigeon Creek came into
+the blacksmith's shop, and held her hands over the warm fire.
+
+"Proper smart rain--spring tempest," said she. "Winter has broke, and we
+shall have steady weather.--Found your way, elder, didn't you? Well, I'm
+glad. It's a mighty poor sign for an elder to lose his way. You took my
+advice, didn't you?--turned to the right and kept straight ahead, and
+you got there. 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 here for?--And Johnnie Kongapod! This ain't any
+place for men in the spring of the year! I've been neighborin'. I have
+to do it just to see if folks are doin' as they oughter. There are a
+great many people who don't do as they oughter in this world. Now I am
+goin' straight home between the drops."
+
+The woman hurried away and disappeared under the trees.
+
+The cloud broke in two dark, billowy masses, and red sunset, like a sea,
+spread over the prairie, the light heightening amid glimmerings of
+pearly rain.
+
+Jasper went back to Pigeon Creek with Abraham.
+
+"Isn't that woman a little queer?" he asked--"a little touched in mind,
+may be?"
+
+"She does not like me," said the boy; "though most people like me. I
+seem to have a bent for study, and father thinks that the time I spend
+in study is wasted, and Aunt Olive calls me lazy, and so do the
+Crawfords--I don't mean the master. Most people like me, but there are
+some here that don'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 things as that it makes me feel down in the
+mouth. Do you ever feel down in the mouth? I do. I wonder what will
+become of me? Whatever happens, or folks may say, elder, I mean to make
+the best of life, and be true to the best that is in me. Something will
+come of it. Don't you think so, elder?"
+
+They came to Thomas Lincoln's cabin, and the serene face of Mrs. Lincoln
+met them at the door. A beautiful evening followed the tempest gust, and
+the Lincolns and the old Tunker sat down to a humble meal.
+
+The mild spring evening that followed drew together another group of
+people to the lowly home of Thomas Lincoln. Among them came Aunt Olive,
+whose missionary work among her neighbors was as untiring as her tongue.
+And last among the callers there came stealing into the light of the
+pine fire, like a shadow, the tall, brown form of Johnnie Kongapod, or
+Konapod.
+
+The pioneer story-telling here began again, and ended in an episode that
+left a strange, mysterious impression, like a prophecy, on nearly every
+mind.
+
+"Let me tell you the story of my courtship," said Thomas Lincoln.
+
+"Thomas!" said a mild, firm voice.
+
+"Oh, don't speak in that tone to me," said the backwoodsman to his wife,
+who had sought to check him.--"Sally don't like to hear 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 don't believe that there is an
+honester creatur' in all these parts, unless it was that Injun that
+Johnnie Kongapod tells about."
+
+A loud laugh arose, and the dusky figure of Johnnie Kongapod retreated
+silently back into a deep shadow near the open door. His feelings had
+been wounded. Young Abraham Lincoln saw the Indian's movement, and he
+went out and stood in the shadow in silent sympathy.
+
+"Well, good folks, Sally and I used to know each other before I removed
+from Kentuck' to Indiany. After my first wife died of the milk-fever I
+was lonesome-like with two young children, and about as 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 case had haunted me, that
+I would just go up to Kentucky and see. Souls kind o' draw each other a
+long way apart; it goes in the air. So I hitched up and went, and I
+found Sally at home, and all alone.
+
+"'Sally,' said I, 'do you remember me?'
+
+"'Yes,' said she, 'I remember you well. You are Tommy Linken. What has
+brought you back to Kentuck'?'
+
+"'Well, Sally,' said I, 'my wife is dead.'
+
+"'Is that so,' said she, all attention.
+
+"'Yes; wife died more than a year ago, and a good wife she was; and I've
+just come back to look for another.'
+
+"She sat like a statue, Sally did, and never spoke a word. So I said:
+
+"'Do you like me, Sally Johnson?'
+
+"'Yes, Tommy Linken.'
+
+"'You do?'
+
+"'Yes, Tommy Linken, I like you well enough to marry you, but I could
+never think of such a thing--at least not now.'
+
+"'Why?'
+
+"'Because I'm in debt, and I would never ask a man who had offered to
+marry me to pay my debts.'
+
+"'Let me hear all about it,' said I.
+
+"She brought me her account-book from the cupboard. Well, good folks,
+how much do you suppose Sally owed? Twelve dollars! It was a heap of
+money for a woman to owe in those days.
+
+"Well, I put that account-book straight into my pocket and _run_. When
+I came back, all of her debts were paid. I told her so.
+
+"'Will you marry me now?' said I.
+
+"'Yes,' said she.
+
+"And, good folks all, the next morning at nine o'clock we were married,
+and we packed up all her things and started on our weddin' tour to
+Indiany, and here we be now. Now that is what I call an honest
+woman.--Johnnie Kongapod, can you beat that? Come, now, Johnnie
+Kongapod."
+
+The Indian still stood in the shadow, with young Abraham beside him. He
+did not answer.
+
+"Johnnie is great on telling stories of good Injuns," said Mr. Lincoln,
+"and we think that kind o' Injuns have about all gone up to the moonlit
+huntin'-grounds."
+
+The tall form of the Indian moved into the light of the doorway. His
+eyes gleamed.
+
+"Thomas Linken, that story that I told you was true."
+
+"What! that an Injun up to Prairie du Chien was condemned to die, and
+that he asked to go home and see his family all alone, and promised to
+return on his honor?"
+
+"Yes, Thomas Linken."
+
+"And that they let him go home all alone, and that he spent his night
+with his family in weepin' and wailin', and returned the next mornin' to
+be shot?"
+
+"Yes, Thomas Linken."
+
+"And that they shot him?"
+
+"Yes, Thomas Linken."
+
+"Well, Johnnie, if I could believe that, I could believe anything."
+
+"An Injun has honor as well as a white man, Thomas Linken."
+
+"Who taught it to him?"
+
+"His own heart--_here_. The Great Spirit's voice is in every man's
+heart; his will is born in all men; his love and care are over us all.
+You may 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 the heavens. That story was true, and I know it to be true, and the
+Great Spirit knows it to be true. Johnnie Kongapod is an honest Injun."
+
+"Then we have two honest folks here," said Aunt Olive. "Three,
+mebby--only Tom Linken owes me a dollar and a half. So, Jasper, you see
+that you have come to good parts. You'll see some strange things in your
+travels, way off to Rock 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 of the family of that Indian that
+went home on his honor all alone to see his family, and came back to be
+shot or hung, you just let us know. I'd like to adopt one of his boys.
+That would be something to begin a Sunday-school with!"
+
+The company burst into another loud laugh.
+
+Johnnie Kongapod raised his long arm and stood silent. Aunt Olive
+stepped before him and looked him in the face. The Indian's red face
+glowed, and he said vehemently: "Woman, that story is true!"
+
+Sally Lincoln arose and rested her hand on the Indian's shoulder.
+"Johnny Kongapod, I can believe you--Abraham can."
+
+There was a deep silence in the cabin, broken only by Aunt Olive, who
+arose indignantly and hurried away, and flung back on the mild air the
+sharp words "_I_ don't!"
+
+The story of the Indian who held honor to be more than life, as related
+by Johnnie Kongapod, had often been told by the Indians at their
+camp-fires, and by traveling preachers and missionaries who had faith in
+Indian character. Among those settlers who held all Indians to be bad it
+was treated as a joke. Old Jasper asked Johnnie Kongapod many questions
+about it, and at last laid his hand on the dusky poet's shoulder, and
+said:
+
+"My brother, I hope that it is true. I believe it, and I honor you for
+believing it. It is a good heart that believes what is best in life."
+
+How strange all this new life seemed to Jasper! How unlike the old
+castles and cottages of Germany, and the cities of the Rhine! And yet,
+for the tall boy by that cabin fire new America had an opportunity that
+Germany could offer to no peasant's son. Jasper little thought that that
+boy, so lively, so rude, so anxious to succeed, was an uncrowned king;
+yet so it was.
+
+And the legend? A true story has a soul, and a peculiar atmosphere and
+influence. Jasper saw what the Indian's story was, though he had heard
+it only indirectly and in outline. It haunted him. He carried it with
+him into his dreams.
+
+[Illustration: THE HOME OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN WHEN IN HIS TENTH YEAR.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A BOY WITH A HEART.
+
+
+Spring came early to the forests and prairies of southern Indiana. In
+March the maples began to burn, and the tops of the timber to change,
+and to take on new hues in the high sun and lengthening days. The birds
+were on the wing, and the banks of the streams were beginning to look
+like gardens, as indeed Nature's gardens they were.
+
+The woodland ponds were full of turtles or terrapins, and these began to
+travel about in the warm spring air.
+
+There was a great fireplace in Crawford's school, and, as fuel cost
+nothing, it was, as we have said, well fed with logs, and was kept
+almost continually glowing.
+
+It was one of the cruel sports of the boys, at the noonings and recesses
+of the school, to put coals of fire on the backs of wandering terrapins,
+and to joke at the struggles of the poor creatures to get to their homes
+in the ponds.
+
+Abraham Lincoln from a boy had a tender heart, a horror of cruelty and
+of everything that would cause any creature pain. He was merciful to
+every one but the unmerciful, and charitable to every one but the
+uncharitable, and kind to everyone but the unkind. But his nature made
+war at once on any one who sought to injure another, and he was
+especially severe on any one who was so mean and cowardly as to
+disregard the natural rights of a dumb animal or reptile. He had in this
+respect the sensitiveness of a Burns. All great natures, as biography
+everywhere attests, have fine instincts--this chivalrous sympathy for
+the brute creation.
+
+Lincoln's nature was that of a champion for the right. He was a born
+knight, and, strangely enough, his first battles in life were in defense
+of the turtles or terrapins. He was a boy of powerful strength, and he
+used it roughly to maintain his cause. He is said to have once exclaimed
+that the turtles were his brothers.
+
+The early days of spring in the old forests are full of life. The Sun
+seems to be calling forth his children. The ponds become margined with
+green, and new creatures everywhere stir the earth and the waters. Life
+and matter become, as it were, a new creation, and one can believe
+anything when he sees how many forms life and matter can assume under
+the mellowing rays of the sun. The clod becomes a flower; the egg a
+reptile, fish, or bird. The cunning woodchuck, that looks out of his
+hole on the awakening earth and blue sky, seems almost to have a sense
+of the miracle that has been wrought. The boy who throws a stone at him,
+to drive him back into the earth, seems less sensible of nature than he.
+It is a pleasing sight to see the little creature, as he stands on his
+haunches, wondering, and the brain of a young Webster would naturally
+seek to let such a groundling have all his right of birth.
+
+One day, when the blue spring skies were beginning to glow, Abraham went
+out to play with his companions. It was one of his favorite amusements
+to declaim from a stump. He would sometimes in this way recite long
+selections from the school Reader and Speaker.
+
+He had written a composition at school on the defense of the rights of
+dumb animals, and there was one piece in the school Reader in which he
+must have found a sympathetic chord, and which was probably one of those
+that he loved to recite. It was written by the sad poet Cowper, and
+began thus:
+
+    "I would not enter on my list of friends
+    (Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
+    Yet wanting sensibility) the man
+    Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
+    An inadvertent step may crush the snail,
+    That crawls at evening in the public path;
+    But he that has humanity, forewarned,
+    Will tread aside, and let the reptile live."
+
+As Abraham and his companions were playing in the warm sun, one said:
+
+"Make a speech for us, Abe. Hip, hurrah! You've only to nibble a pen to
+make poetry, and only to mount a stump to be a speaker. Now, Abe, speak
+for the cause of the people, or anybody's cause. Give it to us strong,
+and we will do the cheering."
+
+Abraham mounted a stump in the school-grounds, on which he had often
+declaimed before. He felt something stirring within him, half-fledged
+wings of his soul, that waited a cause. He would imitate the few
+preachers and speakers that he had heard--even an old Kentucky preacher
+named Elkins, whom his own mother had loved, and whose teachings the
+good woman had followed in her short and melancholy life.
+
+He began his speech, throwing up his long arms, and lifting at proper
+periods his coon-skin cap. The scholars cheered as he waxed earnest. In
+the midst of the speech a turtle came creeping into the grounds.
+
+"Hello!" said one of the boys, "here's another turtle come to school!
+He, too, has seen the need of learning."
+
+The terrapin crawled along awkwardly toward the house, his head
+protruding from his shell, and his tail moving to and fro.
+
+At this point young Abraham grew loud and dramatic. The boys raised a
+shout, and the girls waved their hoods.
+
+In the midst of the enthusiasm, one of the boys seized the turtle by the
+tail and slung it around his head, as an evidence of his delight at the
+ardor of the speaker.
+
+"Throw it at him," said one of the scholars. "Johnson once threw a
+turtle at him, when he was preachin' to his sister, and it set him to
+runnin' on like a minister."
+
+Abraham was accustomed to preach to the young members of his family. He
+would do the preaching, and his sister the weeping; and he sometimes
+became so much affected by his own discourses that he would weep with
+her, and they would have a very "moving service," as such a scene was
+called.
+
+The boy swung the turtle over his head again, and at last let go of it
+in the air, so as to project it toward Abraham.
+
+The poor reptile fell crushed at the foot of the stump and writhed in
+pain.
+
+Abraham ceased to speak. He looked down on the pitiful sight of
+suffering, and his heart yearned over the helpless creature, and then
+his brain became fired, and his eyes flashed with rage.
+
+"Who did that?" he exclaimed. "Brute! coward! wretch!" He looked down
+again, and saw the reptile trying to move away with its broken shell.
+His anger turned to pity. He began to expostulate against all such
+heartlessness to the animal world as the scene exhibited before him. The
+poor turtle again tried to move away, his head just protruding, looking
+for some way out of the world that would deny him his right to the
+sunshine and the streams. The young orator saw it all; his lip curled
+bitterly, and his words burned. He awakened such a sympathy for the
+reptile, and such a feeling of resentment against the hand which had
+ruined this little life, that the offender shrank away from the scene,
+calling out defiantly:
+
+"Come away, and let him talk. He's only chicken-hearted."
+
+The scholars knew that there was no cowardice in the heart of Lincoln.
+They felt the force of the scene. The boys and girls of Andrew
+Crawford's school never forgot the pleas that Abraham used to make for
+the animals and reptiles of the woods and streams.
+
+Nearly every youth exhibits his leading trait or characteristic in his
+school-days.
+
+"The tenor of our whole lives," said an English poet, "is what we make
+it in the first five years after we become our masters"; and a wiser
+than he has said, "The thing that has been is, and God requireth the
+past." Columbus on the quays of Genoa; Zinzendorf forming among his
+little companions the order of the "Grain of Mustard-Seed"; the poets
+who "lisped in numbers"; the boy statesmanship of Cromwell; and the
+early aspiration of nearly every great leader of mankind--all showed the
+current of the life-stream, and it is the current alone that knows and
+prophesies the future. When Abraham Lincoln fell, the world uncovered
+its head. Thrones were sorrowful, and humanity wept. Yet his earliest
+rostrum was a stump, and his cause the natural rights of the voiceless
+inhabitants of the woods and streams. The heart that throbbed for
+humanity, and that won the heart of the world, found its first utterance
+in defense of the principles of the birds'-nest commandment. It was a
+beginning of self-education worthy of the thought of a Pestalozzi. It
+was a prophecy.
+
+As the young advocate of the rights and feelings of the dumb creation
+was ending his fiery discourse, the buttonless Tunker, himself a
+disciple of Pestalozzi, came into the school-grounds and read the
+meaning of the scene. Jasper saw the soul of things, and turned always
+from the outward expressions of life to the inward motive. He read the
+true character of the boy in buckskin breeches, human heart, and fluent
+tongue. He sat down on the log step of the school-house in silence, and
+Mr. Crawford presently came out with a quill pen behind his ear, and sat
+down beside him.
+
+"That boy has been teaching what you and I ought first to teach," said
+Jasper.
+
+"What is that?" asked Mr. Crawford.
+
+"The heart! What is head-learning worth, if the heart is left
+uneducated? As Pestalozzi used to say, The soul is the true end of all
+education. Religion itself is a failure, without right character."
+
+"But you wouldn't teach morals as a science, would you?"
+
+"I would train the heart to feel, and the soul to love to be just and do
+right, and make obedience to the moral sense the habit of life. This
+can best be done at the school age, and I tell you that this is the
+highest education. A boy who can spell all the words in the
+spelling-book, and bound all the countries in the world, and repeat all
+the dates of history, and yet who could have the heart to crush a
+turtle, has not been properly educated."
+
+"Then your view is that the end of education is to make a young person
+do right?"
+
+"No, my good friend, pardon me if I speak plain. The end of education is
+not to _make_ young people do right, but to train the young heart to
+love to do right; to make right doing the nature and habit of life."
+
+"How would you begin?"
+
+"As that boy has begun. He has made every heart on the ground feel for
+that broken-shelled turtle. That boy will one day become a leader among
+men. He has a heart. The head may make friends, but only the heart can
+hold them. It is the heart-power that serves and rules. The best thing
+that can be said of any one is, 'He is true-hearted.' I like that boy.
+He is true-hearted. His first client a turtle, it may not be his last.
+Train him well. He will honor you some day."
+
+The boys took the turtle to the pond and left him on the bank. Jasper
+watched them. He then turned to the backwoods teacher, and said:
+
+"That, sir, is the result of right education. First teach character;
+second, life; third, books. Let education begin in the heart, and
+everybody made to feel that right makes might."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.--HER QUEER STORIES.
+
+
+Aunt Olive Eastman had made herself a relative to every one living
+between the two Pigeon Creeks. She had formed this large acquaintance
+with the pioneers by attending the camp-meetings of the Methodists and
+the four-days' meetings of the Baptists in southern Indiana, and the
+school-house meetings everywhere. She was a widow, was full of rude
+energy and benevolence, had a sharp tongue, a kindly heart, and a
+measure of good sense. But she was "far from perfect," as she used to
+very humbly acknowledge in the many pioneer meetings that she attended.
+
+"I make mistakes sometimes," she used to say, "and it is because I am a
+fallible creatur'."
+
+She was an always busy woman, and the text of her life was "Work," and
+her practice was in harmony with her teaching.
+
+"Work, work, my friends and brethren," she once said in the log
+school-house meeting. "Work while the day is passin'. We's all children
+of the clay. To-day we're here smart as pepper-grass, and to-morrer
+we're gone like the cucumbers of the ground. Up, and be doin'--up, and
+be doin'!"
+
+One morning Jasper the Tunker appeared in the clearing before her
+cabin. She stood in the door as he appeared, shading her eyes with one
+hand and holding a birch broom in the other. The sunset was flooding the
+swollen creek in the distance, and shimmering in the tops of the ancient
+trees. Jasper turned to the door.
+
+"This is a lovely morning," said he. "The heavens are blue above us. I
+hope that you are well."
+
+"The top of the morning to you! You are a stranger that I met the other
+day, I suppose. I've been hopin' you'd come along and see me. Where do
+you hail from, anyway? Come in and tell me all about it."
+
+"I am a German," said Jasper, entering. "I came from Germany to
+Pennsylvania, and went from there to Ohio, and now I am here, as you
+see."
+
+"How far are you goin'? Or are you just goin' to stop with us here?
+Southern Injiany is a goodly country. 'Tis all land around here, for
+_millions_ of miles, and free as the air. Perhaps you'll stop with us."
+
+"I am going to Rock Island, on the Mississippi River, across the prairie
+of the Illinois."
+
+"Who are you now, may it please you? What's your callin'? Tell me all
+about it, now. I want to know."
+
+"I am one of the Brethren, as I said. I preach and teach and cobble. I
+came here now to ask you if you had any shoe-making for me to do."
+
+"One of the Tunkers--a Tunker, one o' them. Don't belong to no sect, nor
+nothin', but just preaches to everybody as though everybody was alike,
+and wanders about everywhere, as if you owned the whole world, like the
+air. I've seen several Tunkers in my day. They are becomin' thick in
+these woods. Well, I believe such as you mean well--let's be charitable;
+we haven't long to live in this troublesome world. I'm fryin' doughnuts;
+am just waitin' for the fat to heat. Hope you didn't think that I was
+wastin' time, standin' there at the door? I'll give you some doughnuts
+as soon as the fat is hot--fresh ones and good ones, too. I make good
+doughnuts, just such as Martha used to make in Jerusalem. I've fried
+doughnuts for a hundred ministers in my day, and they all say that my
+doughnuts are good, whatever they may think of me. Come in. I'm proper
+glad to see ye."
+
+Jasper sat down in the kitchen of the cabin. The room was large, and had
+a delightful atmosphere of order and neatness. Over the fire swung an
+immense iron crane, and on the crane were pot-hooks of various sizes,
+and on one of these hung a kettle of bubbling fat.
+
+The table was spread with a large dish of dough, a board called a
+kneading-board, a rolling-pin, and a large sheet of dough which had been
+rolled into its present form by the rolling-pin, which utensil was white
+with flour.
+
+"I knew you were comin'," said Aunt Olive. "I dropped my rollin'-pin
+this mornin'; it's a sure sign. You said that you are goin' to Rock
+Island. The Injuns live there, don't they? What are ye goin' there for?"
+
+"Black Hawk has invited me. He has promised to let me have an Indian
+guide, or runner, who can speak English and interpret. I'm going to
+teach among the tribes, the Lord willing, and I want a guide and an
+interpreter."
+
+"Black Hawk? He was born down in Kaskaskia, the old Jesuit town, 'way
+back almost a century ago, wasn't he? Or was it in the Sac village? He
+was a Pottawattomie, I'm told, and then I've heard he wasn't. Now he's
+chief of the Sacs and Foxes. I saw him once at a camp-meetin'. His face
+is black as that pot and these hooks and trummels. How he did skeer me!
+Do you dare to trust him? Like enough he'll kill ye, some day. I don't
+trust no Injuns. Where did you stay last night?"
+
+"At Mr. Lincoln's."
+
+"Tom Linken's. Pretty poor accommodations you must have had. They're
+awful poor folks. Mrs. Linken is a nice woman, but Tom he is shiftless,
+and he's bringin' up that great tall boy Abe to be lazy, too. That boy
+is good to his mother, but he all runs to books and larnin', just as
+some turnips all run to tops. You've seen 'em so, haven't ye?"
+
+"But the boy has got character, and character is everything in this
+world."
+
+"Did you notice anything _peculiarsome_ about him? His cousin, Dennis
+Hanks, says there's something peculiarsome about him. I never did."
+
+"My good woman, do you believe in gifts?"
+
+"No, I believe in works. I believe in people whose two fists are full of
+works. Mine are, like the Marthas of old."
+
+Aunt Olive rolled up her sleeves, and began to cut the thin layer of
+dough with a knife into long strips, which she twisted.
+
+"I'm goin' to make some twisted doughnuts," she said, "seein' you're a
+preacher and a teacher."
+
+"I think that young lad Lincoln has some inborn gift, and that he will
+become a leader among men. It is he who is willing to serve that rules,
+and they who deny themselves the most receive the most from Heaven and
+men. He has sympathetic wisdom. I can see it. There is something
+peculiar about him. He is true."
+
+"Oh, don't you talk that way. He's lazy, and he hain't got any
+calculation, 'n' he'll never amount to shucks, nor nothin'. He's like
+his father, his head in the air. Somethin' don't come of nothin' in this
+world; corn don't grow unless you plant it; and when you add nothin' to
+nothin' it just makes nothin'.
+
+"Well, preacher, you've told me who you are, and now I'll tell ye who I
+am. But first, let me say, I'll have a pair of shoes. I have my own
+last. I'll get it for you, and then you can be peggin' away, so as not
+to lose any time. It is wicked to waste time. 'Work' is my motto. That's
+what time is made for."
+
+Aunt Olive got her last. The fat was hot by this time--"all sizzlin',"
+as she said.
+
+"There, preacher, this is the last, and there is the board on which my
+husband used to sew shoes, wax and all. Now I will go to fryin' my
+doughnuts, and you and I can be workin' away at the same time, and I'll
+tell ye who I am. Work away--work away!
+
+"I'm a widder. You married? A widower? Well, that ain't nothin' to me.
+Work away--work away!
+
+"I came from old Hingham, near Boston. You've heard of Boston? That was
+before I was married. Our family came to Ohio first, then we heard that
+there was better land in Injiany, and we moved on down the Ohio River
+and came here. There was only one other family in these parts at that
+time. That was folks by the name of Eastman. They had a likely smart
+boy by the name of Polk--Polk Eastman. He grew up and became lonesome. I
+grew up and became lonesome, and so we concluded that we'd make a home
+together--here it is--and try to cheer each other. Listenin', be ye?
+Yes? Well, my doughnuts are fryin' splendid. Work away--work away!
+
+"A curious time we had of it when we went to get married. There was a
+minister named Penney, who preached in a log church up in Kentuck, and
+we started one spring mornin', something like this, to get him to marry
+us. We had but one horse for the journey. I rode on a kind of a second
+saddle behind Polk, and we started off as happy as prairie plovers. A
+blue sky was over the timber, and the bushes were all alive with birds,
+and there were little flowers runnin' everywhere among the new grass and
+the moss. It seemed as though all the world was for us, and that the
+Lord was good. I've seen lots of trouble since then. My heart has grown
+heavy with sorrow. It was then as light as air. Work away!
+
+"Well, the minister Penney lived across the Kentuck, and when we came to
+the river opposite his place the water was so deep that we couldn't ford
+it. There had been spring freshets. It was an evenin' in April. There
+was a large moon, and the weather was mild and beautiful. We could see
+the pine-knots burnin' in Parson Penney's cabin, so that we knew that he
+was there, but didn't see him.
+
+"'What are we to do now?' Polk said he. 'We'll have to go home again,'
+banterin'-like."
+
+"'Holler,' said I. 'Blow the horn!' We had taken a horn along with us.
+He gave a piercin' blast, and I shouted out, 'Elder Penney! Elder
+Penney!'
+
+"The door of the cabin over the river opened, and the elder came out and
+stood there, mysterious-like, in the light of the fire.
+
+"'Who be ye?' he called. 'Hallo! What is wanted?'
+
+"'We're comin' to be married!' shouted Polk. 'Comin' to be
+married--_married_! How shall we get across the river?'
+
+"'The ford's too deep. Can't be done. Who be ye?' shouted the elder.
+
+"'I'm Polk Eastman--Polk Eastman!' shouted Polk.
+
+"'I'm Olive Pratt--Olive Pratt--Olive!' shouted I.
+
+"'Well, you just stay where you be, and I'll marry you there.'
+
+"So he began shouting at the top of his voice:
+
+"'Do you, Olive Pratt, take that there man, over there on the horse, to
+be your husband? Hey?'
+
+"I shouted back, 'Yes, sir!'
+
+"'Do you, Polk Eastman, take that there woman, over there on the horse,
+to be your wife?'
+
+"Polk shouted back, 'Yes, elder, that is what I came for!'
+
+"'Then,' shouted the minister, 'join your right hands.'
+
+"Polk put up his hand over his shoulder, and I took it; and the horse,
+seein' his advantage, went to nibblin' young sprouts. The elder then
+shouted:
+
+"'I pronounce you husband and wife. You can go home now, and I'll make a
+record of it, and my wife shall witness it. Good luck to you! Let us
+pray.'
+
+[Illustration: AUNT OLIVE'S WEDDING.]
+
+"Polk hitched up the reins and the horse stood still. How solemn it
+seemed! The woods were still and shady. You could hear the water rushing
+in the timber. The full moon hung in the clear sky over the river, and
+seemed to lay on the water like a sparkling boat. I was happy then. On
+our journey home we were chased by a bear. I don't think that the bear
+would have hurt us, but the scent of him frightened the horse and made
+him run like a deer.
+
+"Well, we portaged a stream at midnight, just as the moon was going
+down. We made our curtilage here, and here we lived happy until husband
+died of a fever. I'm a middlin' good woman. I go to all the meetin's
+round, and wake 'em up. I've got a powerful tongue, and there isn't a
+lazy bone in my whole body. Work away--work away! That's the way to get
+along in the world. Peg away!"
+
+While Aunt Olive had been relating this odd story, John Hanks, a cousin
+of the Lincolns, had come quietly to the door, and entered and sat down
+beside the Tunker. He had come to Indiana from Kentucky when Abraham was
+fourteen years of age, and he made his home with the Lincolns for four
+years, when he went to Illinois, and was enthused by the wonders of
+prairie farming. It was Uncle John who gave to Abraham Lincoln the name
+of rail-splitter. He loved the boy Lincoln, and led his heart away to
+the rich prairies of Illinois a few years after the present scenes.
+
+"He and I," he once said of Abraham, "worked barefooted, grubbed,
+plowed, mowed, and cradled together. When we returned from the field, he
+would snatch a piece of corn-bread, sit down on a chair, with his feet
+elevated, and read. He read constantly."
+
+This man had heard Aunt Olive--Indiana, or "Injiany," he called
+her--relate her marriage experiences many times. He was not interested
+in the old story, but he took a keen delight in observing the curiosity
+and surprise that such a novel tale awakened in the mind of the Tunker.
+
+"This is very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very extraordinary. We
+do not have in Germany any stories like that. I hardly know what my
+people would say to such a story as that. This is a very extraordinary
+country--very extraordinary."
+
+"I can tell you a wedding story worth two o' that," said Uncle John
+Hanks. "Why, that ain't nowhere to it.--Now, Aunt Injiany, you wait, and
+set still. I'm goin' to tell the elder about the 'TWO TURKEY-CALLS.'"
+
+The Tunker only said, "This is all very extraordinary." Uncle John
+crossed his legs and bent forward his long whiskers, stretched out one
+arm, and was about to begin, when Aunt Olive said:
+
+"You wait, John Hanks--you wait. I'm goin' to tell the elder that there
+story myself."
+
+John Hanks never disputed with Aunt Olive.
+
+"Well, tell it," said he, and the backwoods woman began:
+
+"'Tis a master-place to get married out here. There's a great many more
+men than women in the timber, and the men get lonesome-like, and no man
+is a whole man without a wife. Men ought not to live alone anywhere.
+They can not out here. Well, well, the timber is full of wild turkeys,
+especially in the fall of the year, but they are hard to shoot. The best
+way to get a shot at a turkey is by a turkey-call. You never heard one,
+did you? You are not to blame for bein' ignorant. It is like this--"
+
+Aunt Indiana put her hands to her mouth like a shell, and blew a low,
+mysterious whistle.
+
+"Well, there came a young settler from Kentucky and took up a claim on
+Pigeon Creek; and there came a widow from Ohio and took a claim about
+three miles this side of him, and neither had seen the other. Well,
+well, one shiny autumn mornin' each of them took in to their heads to go
+out turkey-huntin', and curiously enough each started along the creek
+toward each other. The girl's name was Nancy, and the man's name was
+Albert. Nancy started down the creek, and Albert up the creek, and each
+had a right good rifle.
+
+"Nancy stood still as soon as she found a hollow place in the timber,
+put up her hand--_so_--and made a turkey-call--_so_--and listened.
+
+"Albert heard the call in the hollow timber, though he was almost a mile
+away, and he put up his hands--_so_--and answered--_so_.
+
+"'A turkey,' said Nancy, said she. 'I wish I had a turkey to cook.'
+
+"'A turkey,' said Albert, said he. 'I wish I had some one at home to
+cook a turkey.'
+
+"Then each stole along slowly toward the other, through the hollow
+timber.
+
+"It was just a lovely mornin'. Jays were callin', and nuts were fallin',
+and the trees were all yellow and red, and the air put life into you,
+and made you feel as though you would live forever.
+
+"Well, they both of them stopped again, Nancy and Albert. Nancy she
+called--_so_--and Albert--_so_.
+
+"'A turkey, sure,' said Nancy.
+
+"'A turkey, sure,' said Albert.
+
+"Then each went forward a little, and stopped and called again.
+
+"They were so near each other now that each began to hide behind the
+thicket, so that neither might scare the turkey.
+
+"Well, each was scootin' along with head bowed--_so_--gun in
+hand--_so_--one wishin' for a husband and one for a wife, and each for a
+good fat turkey, when what should each hear but a voice in a tree! It
+was a very solemn voice, and it said:
+
+"'Quit!'
+
+"Each thought there was a scared turkey somewhere, and each became more
+stealthy and cautious, and there was a long silence.
+
+"At last Nancy she called again--_so_--and Albert he answered
+her--_so_--and each thought there was a turkey within shootin' distance,
+and each crept along a little nearer each other.
+
+"At last Nancy saw the bushes stir a few rods in front of her, and
+raised her gun into position, still hiding in the tangle. Albert
+discovered a movement in front of him, and he took the same position.
+
+"Nancy was sure she could see something dark before her, and that it
+must be the turkey in the tangle. She put her finger on the lock of the
+gun, when a voice in the air said:
+
+"'Quit!'
+
+"'It's a turkey in the tops of the timber,' thought she, 'and he is
+watchin' me, and warnin' the other turkey.'
+
+"Albert, too, was preparin' to shoot in the tangle when the command
+from the tree-top came. Each thought it would be well to reconnoiter a
+little, so as to get a better shot.
+
+"Nancy kneeled down on the moss among the red-berry bushes, and peeked
+cautiously through an openin' in the tangle. What was that?
+
+"A hat? Yes, it was a hat!
+
+"Albert he peeked through another openin', and his heart sunk like a
+stone within him. What was that? A bonnet? Yes, it was a bonnet!
+
+"Was ever such a thing as that seen before in the timber? Bears had been
+seen, and catamounts, and prairie wolves, but a bonnet! He drew back his
+gun. Just then there came another command from the tree-top:
+
+"'Quit!'
+
+"Now, would you believe it? Well, two guns were discharged at that
+turkey in the tree, and it came tumblin' down, a twenty-pounder, dead as
+a stone.
+
+"Nancy run toward it. Albert run towards it.
+
+"'It's yourn,' said Nancy.
+
+"'It's yourn,' said Albert.
+
+"Each looked at the other.
+
+"Nancy looked real pink and pretty, and Albert he looked real noble and
+handsome-like.
+
+"'I'm thinkin',' said Albert, 'it kind o' belongs to both of us.'
+
+"'So I think, too,' said Nancy, said she. 'Come over to my cabin and
+I'll cook it for ye. I'm an honest girl, I am.'
+
+"The two went along as chipper as two squirrels. The creek looked really
+pretty to 'em, and the prairie was all a-glitter with frost, and the
+sky was all pleasant-like, and you know the rest. There, now. They're
+livin' there yet. Just like poetry--wasn't it, now?"
+
+"Very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very! I never read a novel like
+that. Very extraordinary!"
+
+A tall, lank, wiry boy came up to the door.
+
+"Abe, I do declare!" said Aunt Olive. "Come in. I'm makin' doughnuts,
+and you sha'n't have one of them. I make Scriptur' doughnuts, and the
+Scriptur' says if a man spends his time porin' over books, of which
+there is no end, neither shall he eat, or somethin' like that--now don't
+it, elder?--But seein' it's you, Abe, and you are a pretty good boy,
+after all, when people are in trouble, and sick and such, I'll make you
+an elephant. There ain't any elephants in Injiany."
+
+Aunt Olive cut a piece of doughnut dough in the shape of a picture-book
+elephant and tossed it into the fat. It swelled up to enormous
+proportions, and when she scooped it out with a ladle it was, for a
+doughnut, an elephant indeed.
+
+"Now, Abe, there's your elephant.--And, elder, here's a whole pan full
+of twisted doughnuts. You said that you were goin' to meet Black Hawk.
+Where does he live? Tell us all about him."
+
+"I will do so, my good woman," said Jasper. "I want you to be interested
+in my Indian missions. When I come this way again, I shall be likely to
+bring with me an Indian guide, an uncommon boy, I am told. You shall
+hear my story."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+JASPER GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO BLACK HAWK.--AUNT INDIANA'S WIG.
+
+
+Aunt Indiana, Jasper, John Hanks, and young Abraham Lincoln sat between
+the dying logs in the great fireplace and the open door. The company was
+after a little time increased for Thomas Lincoln came slowly into the
+clearing, and saying, "How-dy?" and "The top of the day to ye all," sat
+down in the sunshine on the log step; and soon after came Dennis Hanks
+and dropped down on a puncheon.
+
+"I think that you are misled," said Jasper, "when you say that Black
+Hawk was born at Kaskaskia. If I remember rightly, he said to me: 'I was
+born in this Sac village. Here I spent my youth; my fathers' graves are
+here, and the graves of my children, and here where I was born I wish to
+die.' Rock Island, as the northern islands, rapids, and bluffs of the
+Mississippi are called, is a very beautiful place. Black Hawk clings to
+the spot as to his life. 'I love to look down,' he said, 'upon the big
+rivers, shady groves, and green prairies from the graves of my fathers,'
+and I do not wonder at this feeling. His blood is the same and his
+rights are the same as any other king, and he loves Nature and has a
+heart.
+
+"It is my calling to teach and preach among the Indians and new towns
+of Illinois. This call came to me in Pennsylvania. God willed it, and I
+had no will but to obey. I heard the Voice within, just as I heard it in
+Germany on the Rhine. _There_ it said, 'Go to America.' In Pennsylvania
+it said, 'Go to the Illinois.'
+
+"I went. I have walked all the way, teaching and preaching in the log
+school-houses. I sowed the good seed, and left the harvest to the
+heavens. Why should I be anxious in regard to the result? I walk by
+faith, and I know what the result will be in God's good time, without
+seeking for it. Why should I stop to number the people? I know.
+
+"I wanted an Indian guide and interpreter, and the inward Voice told me
+to go to Black Hawk and secure one from the chief himself. So I went to
+the bluffs of the Mississippi, and told Black Hawk all my heart, and he
+let me preach in his lodges, and I made some strong winter shoes for
+him, and tried to teach the children by signs. So I was fed by the
+ravens of the air. He had no interpreter or runner such as he would
+trust to go with me; but he told me if I would return in the May moon,
+he would provide me one. He said that it would be a boy by the name of
+Waubeno, whose father was a noble warrior and had had a strange and
+mysterious history. The boy was then traveling with an old uncle by the
+name of Main-Pogue. These names sound strange to German ears: Waubeno
+and Main-Pogue! I promised to return in May. I am on my way.
+
+"If I get the boy Waubeno--and the Voice within tells me that I will--I
+intend to travel a circuit, round and round, round and round, teaching
+and preaching. I can see my circuit now in my mind. This is the map of
+it: From Rock Island to Fort Dearborn (Chicago); from Fort Dearborn to
+the Ohio, which will bring me here again; and from the Ohio to the
+Mississippi, and back to Rock Island, and so round and round, round and
+round. Do you see?"
+
+The homely travels of Thomas Lincoln and the limited geography of Andrew
+Crawford had not prepared Jasper's audience to see even this small
+circuit very distinctly. Thomas Lincoln, like the dwellers in the
+Scandinavian valleys, doubtless believed that there "are people beyond
+the mountains, _also_" but he knew little of the world outside of
+Kentucky and Illinois. Mrs. Eastman was quite intelligent in regard to
+New England and the Middle States, but the West to her mind was simply
+land--"oceans of it," as she expressed herself--"where every one was at
+liberty to choose without infringin' upon anybody."
+
+"Don't you ever stop to build up churches?" said Mrs. Eastman to Jasper.
+
+"No."
+
+"You just baptize 'em, and let 'em run. That's what I can't understand.
+I can't get at it. What are you really doin'? Now, say?"
+
+"I am the Voice in the wilderness, preparing the way."
+
+"No family name?"
+
+"No. What have I to do with a name?"
+
+"No money?"
+
+"Only what I earn."
+
+"That's queerer yet. Well, you are just the man to preach to the
+uninhabited places of the earth. Tell us more about Black Hawk. I want
+to hear of him, although we all are wastin' a pile of time when we all
+ought to be to work. Tell us about Black Hawk, and then we'll all up and
+be doin'. My fire is goin' out now."
+
+"He's a revengeful critter, that Black Hawk," said Thomas Lincoln, "and
+you had better be pretty wary of him. You don't know Indians. He's a
+flint full of fire, so people say that come to the smithy. You look
+out."
+
+"He has had his wrongs," said Jasper, "and he has been led by his animal
+nature to try to avenge them. Had he listened to the higher teachings of
+the soul, it might have been different. We should teach him."
+
+"What was it that set him against white folks?" asked Mrs. Eastman.
+
+"He told me the whole story," said Jasper, "and it made my heart bleed
+for him. He's a child of Nature, and has a great soul, but it needs a
+teacher. The Indians need teachers. I am sent to teach in the
+wilderness, and to be fed by the birds of the air. I am sent from over
+the sea. But listen to the tale of Black Hawk. You complain of your
+wrongs, don't you? Why should not he?
+
+"Years ago Black Hawk had an old friend whom he dearly loved, for the
+friendships of Indians are ardent and noble. That friend had a boy, and
+Black Hawk loved this boy and adopted him as his own, and became as a
+father to him, and taught him to hunt and to go to war. When Black Hawk
+joined the British he wished to take this boy with him to Canada; but
+his own father said that he needed him to care for him in his old age,
+to fish and to hunt for him. He said, moreover, that he did not like
+his boy to fight against the Americans, who had always treated him
+kindly. So Black Hawk left the boy with his old father.
+
+"On his return to Rock River and the bluffs of the Mississippi, after
+the war on the lakes, and as he was approaching his own town in the
+sunset, he chanced to notice a column of white smoke curling from a
+hollow in one of the bluffs. He stepped aside to see what was there. As
+he looked over the bluff he saw a fire, and an aged Indian sitting alone
+on a prayer-mat before it, as though humbling himself before the Great
+Spirit. He went down to the place and found that the man was his old
+friend.
+
+"'How came you here?' asked Black Hawk. But, although the old Indian's
+lip moved, he received no answer.
+
+"'What has happened?' asked Black Hawk.
+
+"There was a pitiful look in the old man's eyes, but this was his only
+reply. The old Indian seemed scarcely alive. Black Hawk brought some
+water to him. It revived him. His consciousness and memory seemed to
+return. He looked up. With staring eyes he said, suddenly:
+
+"'Thou art Black Hawk! O Black Hawk, Black Hawk, my old friend, he is
+gone!'
+
+"'Who has gone?'
+
+"'The life of my heart is gone, he whom you used to love. Gone, like a
+maple-leaf. Gone! Listen, O Black Hawk, listen.
+
+"'After you went away to fight for the British, I came down the river at
+the request of the pale-faces to winter there. When I arrived I found
+that the white people had built a fort there. I went to the fort with
+my son to tell the people that we were friendly."
+
+"'The white war-chief received me kindly, and told us that we might hunt
+on this side of the Mississippi, and that he would protect us. So we
+made our camp there. We lived happy, and we loved to talk of you, O
+Black Hawk!
+
+"'We were there two moons, when my boy went to hunt one day,
+unsuspicious of any danger. We thought the white man spoke true. Night
+came, and he did not return. I could not sleep that night. In the
+morning I sent out the old woman to the near lodges to give an alarm,
+and say that my boy must be sought.
+
+"'There was a band formed to hunt for him. Snow was on the ground, and
+they found his tracks--my boy's tracks. They followed them, and saw that
+he had been pursuing a deer to the river. They came upon the deer, which
+he had killed and left hanging on the branch of a tree. It was as he had
+left it.
+
+"'But here they found the tracks of the white man. The pale-faces had
+been there, and had taken our boy prisoner. They followed the tracks and
+they found him. O Black Hawk! he was dead--my boy! The white men had
+murdered him for killing the deer near the fort; and the land was ours.
+His face was all shot to pieces. His body was stabbed through and
+through, and they had torn the hair from his head. They had tied his
+hands behind him before they murdered him. Black Hawk, my heart is dead.
+What do the hawks in the sky say?'
+
+"The old Indian fell into a stupor, from which he soon expired. Black
+Hawk watched over his body during the night, and the next day he buried
+it upon the bluff. It was at that grave that Black Hawk listened to the
+hawks in the sky, and vowed vengeance against the white people forever,
+and summoned his warriors for slaughter."
+
+"He's a hard Indian," said Thomas Lincoln. "Don't you trust Black Hawk.
+You don't know him."
+
+"Hard? Yes, but did not your brother Mordecai make the same vow and
+follow the same course after the murder of your father by the Indians? A
+slayer of man is a slayer of man whoever and wherever he may be. May the
+gospel bring the day when the shedding of human blood will cease! But
+the times are still evil. The world waits still for the manifestation of
+the sons of God; as of old it waits. I have given all I am to the
+teaching of the gospel of peace. The Indians need it; you need it, all
+of you. You do the same things that the savages do."
+
+"Just hear him!" said Aunt Indiana.--"Who are you preachin' to, elder?
+Callin' us savages! I'm an exhorter myself, I'd like to have you know. I
+could exhort _you_. Savages? We know Indians here better than you do.
+You wait."
+
+"Let me tell you a story now," said Thomas Lincoln.
+
+"Of course you will," said Aunt Indiana. "Thomas Lincoln never heard a
+story told without telling another one to match it; and Abe, here, is
+just like him. The thing that has been, is, as the Scriptur' says."
+
+
+_AN ASTONISHED INDIAN._
+
+"Well," said Thomas Lincoln, "I hain't no faith at all, elder, in
+Injuns. I once knew of a woman in Kentuck, in my father's day, who knew
+enough for 'em, and the way that she cleared 'em out showed an amazin'
+amount of spirit. Women was women in Daniel Boone's time, in old
+Kentuck. The Injuns found 'em up and doin', and they learned to sidle
+away pretty rapid-like when they met a sun-bonnet.
+
+"Well, as I was sayin', this was in my father's time. The Injuns were
+prowlin' about pretty plenty then, and one day one of 'em came, all
+feathers and paint, and whoops and prancin's, to a house owned by a Mr.
+Daviess, and found that the man of the house was gone.
+
+"But the wimmin-folks were at home--Mrs. Daviess and the children. Well,
+the Injun came on like a champion, swingin' his tommyhawk and liftin'
+his heels high. The only weapon that the good woman had was a bottle of
+whisky.
+
+"Well, whisky is a good weapon sometimes--there's many a man that has
+found it a slow gunpowder. Well, this woman, as I was sayin', had her
+wits about her. What do you think that she did?
+
+"Well, she just brought out the whisky-bottle, and held it up before
+him--_so_. It made his eyes sparkle, you may be sure of that!
+
+"'Fire-water,' said she, 'mighty temptin'.
+
+"'Ugh!' said the Indian, all humps and antics and eyes.
+
+"Ugh! Did you ever hear an Injun say that--'Ugh?'
+
+"'Have some?' said she.
+
+"Have some? Of course he did.
+
+"She got a glass and put it on the table, and then she uncorked the
+bottle and _handed_ it to him to pour out the whisky. He lost his wits
+at once.
+
+"He set down his gun to pour out a dram, all giddy, when Mrs. Daviess
+seized the shooter and lifted it up quick as a flash and pointed to his
+head.
+
+"'Set that down, or I'll fire! Set that bottle down!'
+
+"The poor Injun's jaw dropped. He set down the bottle, looked wild, and
+begged for his life.
+
+"'Set still,' said she; and he looked at the whisky-bottle and then
+slunk all up in a heap and remained silent as a dead man until Mr.
+Daviess came home, when he was allowed to crawl away into the forest. He
+gave one parting look at the bottle, but he never wanted to see a white
+woman again, I'll be bound."
+
+"You ridicule the Indian for his love of whisky," said the Tunker, "but
+who taught him to love it? Woe unto the world because of offenses."
+
+"Hello!" said John Hanks, starting up. "Here comes Johnnie Kongapod
+again, from the Illinois. I like to see any one from Illinois, even if
+he is an Indian. I'm goin' there myself some day. I've a great opinion
+of that there prairie country--hain't you, elder?"
+
+"Yes, it is a garden of wild flowers that seems as wide as the sky. It
+can all be turned into green, and it will be some day."
+
+Aunt Indiana greeted the Indian civilly, and the Tunker held out his
+hand to him.
+
+"Elder," said Aunt Indiana, "I must tell you one of my own experiences,
+now that Johnnie Kongapod has come--the one that they bantered me about
+over to the smithy. Johnnie and I are old friends. I used to be a kind
+of travelin' preacher myself; I am now--I go to camp-meetin's, and I
+always do my duty.
+
+"Well, a few years ago, durin' the Injun troubles, there was goin' to be
+a camp-meetin' on the Illinois side, and I wanted to go. Now, Johnnie
+Kongapod is a good Injun, and I arranged with him that he should go with
+me.
+
+"You didn't know that I wore a wig, did ye, elder? No? Well, most people
+don't. I have had to wear a wig ever since I had the scarlet fever, when
+I was a girl. I'm kind o' ashamed to tell of it, I've so much nateral
+pride, but have to speak of it when I tell this story.
+
+"Johnnie Kongapod never saw a wig before I showed him mine, and I never
+showed it to him until I had to.
+
+"Well, he came over from Illinois, and we started off together to the
+camp-meetin'. It was a lovely time on the prairies. The grass was all
+ripe and wavin', and the creeks were all alive with ducks, and there
+were prairie chickens everywhere. I felt very brisk and chipper.
+
+"We had two smart horses, and we cantered along. I sang hymns, and sort
+o' preached to Johnnie, when all at once we saw a shadow on the prairie
+like a cloud, and who should come ridin' up but three Injuns! I was
+terribly frightened. I could see that they were hostile Injuns--Sacs,
+from Black Hawk. One of them swung his tommyhawk in the air, and made
+signs that he was goin' to scalp me. Johnnie began to beg for me, and I
+thought that my last hour had come.
+
+"The Injun wheeled his pony, rode away, then turned and came dashin'
+towards me, with tommyhawk lifted.
+
+"'Me scalp!' said he, as he dashed by me. Then he turned his horse and
+came plungin' towards me again.
+
+"Elder, what do you think I did? I snatched off my bonnet and threw it
+upon the ground. Then I grabbed my wig, held it up in the air, and when
+the Injun came rushin' by I held it out to him.
+
+"'There it is,' said I.
+
+"Well--would you believe it?--that Injun gave one glance at it, and put
+spurs to his horse, and he never stopped runnin' till he was out of
+sight. The two other Injuns took one look at my wig as I held it out in
+my hand.
+
+"'Scalped herself!' said one.
+
+"'Took her head off!' said the other. 'She conjur's!'
+
+"They spurred their horses and flew over the prairie like the wind.
+And--and--must I say it?--Johnnie Kongapod--he ran too; and so I put on
+my wig, picked up my sun-bonnet, and turned and came home again.
+
+"There are some doughnuts, Johnnie Kongapod, if you did desert me.
+
+"Elder, this is a strange country. And don't you believe any stories
+about honest Injuns that the law condemns, and that go home to see their
+families overnight and return again; you will travel a long way, elder,
+before you find any people of that kind, Injuns or white folks. I know.
+I haven't lived fifty years in this troublesome world for nothin'.
+People who live up in the air, as you do, elder, have to come down. I'm
+sorry. You mean well!"
+
+Johnnie Kongapod arose, lifted his brown arm silently, and, bending his
+earnest face on Jasper, said:
+
+"_That_ story is true. You will know. Time tells the truth. Wait!"
+
+"Return in the morning to be shot!" said Aunt Olive. "Injuns don't do
+that way here. When I started for Injiany I was told of a mother-in-law
+who was so good that all her daughters' husbands asked her to come and
+live with them. They said she moved to Injiany. Now, I have traveled
+about this State to all the camp-meetin's, and I never found her
+anywhere. Stands to reason that no such story as that is true. You'll
+have to travel a long way, elder, before you find any people of that
+kind in these parts."
+
+Whom was Jasper to believe--the confident Indian or the pioneers?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL.
+
+
+Examination-day is an important time in country schools, and it excited
+more interest seventy years ago than now. Andrew Crawford was always
+ambitious that this day should do credit to his faithful work, and his
+pupils caught his inspiration.
+
+There were great preparations for the examination at Crawford's this
+spring. The appearance of the German school-master in the place who
+could read Latin was an event. Years after, when the pure gold of fame
+was no longer a glimmering vision or a current of fate, but a wonderful
+fact, Abraham Lincoln wrote of such visits as Jasper's in the settlement
+a curious sentence in an odd hand in an autobiography, which we
+reproduce here:
+
+[Illustration: If a straggler ^{supposed to understand latin?} happened
+to sojourn in the neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizzard--]
+
+With such a "wizard" as Jasper in the settlement, who would certainly
+attend the examination, it is no wonder that this special event excited
+the greatest interest in all the cabins between the two Pigeon Creeks of
+southern Indiana.
+
+"May we decorate the school-house?" asked a girl of Mr. Crawford, before
+the appointed day. "May we decorate the school-house out of the woods?"
+
+"I am chiefly desirous that you should decorate your minds out of the
+spelling-book," said Mr. Crawford; "but it is a commendable thing to
+have an eye to beauty, and to desire to present a good appearance. Yes,
+you may decorate the house out of the woods."
+
+The timber was green in places with a vine called creeping Jenney, and
+laurels whose leaves were almost as green and waxy as those of the
+Southern magnolia. The creeping Jenney could be entwined with the
+laurel-leaves in such a way as to form long festoons. The boys and girls
+spent the mornings and recesses for several days in gathering Jenney,
+and in twining the vines with the laurel and making decorative festoons.
+
+They hung these festoons about the wooden walls of the low building and
+over the door. Out of the tufts of boxberry leaves and plums they made
+the word "Welcome," which they hung over the door. They covered the rude
+chimney with pine-boughs, and in so doing filled the room with a
+resinous odor. They also covered the roof with boughs of evergreen.
+
+The spelling-book was not neglected in the preparations of the eventful
+week. There was to be a spelling-match on the day, and, although it was
+already felt that Abraham Lincoln would easily win, there was hard study
+on the part of all.
+
+One afternoon, after school, in the midst of these heroic preparations,
+a party of the scholars were passing along the path in the timber. A
+dispute arose between two boys in regard to the spelling of a word.
+
+"I spelled it just as Crawford did," said one.
+
+"No, you didn't. Crawford spelled it with a _i_."
+
+"He spelled it with a _y_, and that is just the way I spelled it."
+
+"He didn't, now, I know! I heard Crawford spell it himself."
+
+"He did!"
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that I lie?"
+
+"You do--it don't need telling."
+
+"I won't be called a liar by anybody. I'll make you ache for that!"
+
+"We'll see about that. You may ache yourself before this thing is
+settled. I've got fists as well as you, and I will not take such words
+as that from anybody. Come on!"
+
+The two backwoods knights rushed toward each other with a wounded sense
+of honor in their hearts and with uplifted arms.
+
+Suddenly a form like a giant passed between them. It took one boy under
+one of its arms and the other under the other, and strode down the
+timber.
+
+"He called me a liar," said one of the boys. "I won't stand that from
+any _man_."
+
+"He _sassed_ me," said the other, "and I won't stand any sassin', not
+while my fists are alive."
+
+"_You_ wouldn't be called a liar," said the first.
+
+"Nor take any sassin'," said the second.
+
+The tall form in blue-jean shirt and leather breeches strode on, with
+the two boys under its arms.
+
+"I beg!" at last said one of the boys.
+
+"I beg!" said the other.
+
+"Then I'll let you go, and we'll all be friends again!"
+
+"Yes, Abraham, I'll give in, if he will."
+
+"I will. Let me go."
+
+The tall form dropped the two boys, and soon all was peace in the
+April-like air.
+
+"Abraham Lincoln will never allow any quarrels in our school," said
+another boy. "Where he is there has to be peace. It wouldn't be fair for
+him to use his strength so, only he's always right; and when strength is
+right it is all for the best."
+
+The boy had a rather clear perception of the true principles of human
+government. A will to do right and the power to enforce it, make nations
+great as well as character powerful.
+
+The eventful day came, with blue-birds in the glimmering timber, and a
+blue sky over all. People came from a distance to attend the
+examination, and were surprised to find the school-house changed into a
+green bower.
+
+[Illustration: ABRAHAM AS A PEACE-MAKER.]
+
+The afternoon session had been assigned to receiving company, and the
+pupils awaited the guests with trembling expectation. It was a warm day,
+and the oiled paper that served for panes of glass in the windows had
+been pushed aside to admit the air and make an outlook, and the door had
+been left open. The first to arrive was Jasper. The school saw him
+coming; but he looked so kindly, benevolent, and patriarchal, that the
+boys and girls did not stand greatly in awe of him. They seemed to feel
+instinctively that he was their friend and was with them. But a
+different feeling came over them when 'Squire Gentry, of Gentryville,
+came cantering on a horse that looked like a war-charger. 'Squire Gentry
+was a great man in those parts, and filled a continental space in their
+young minds. The faces of all the scholars were turned silently and
+deferently to their books when the 'Squire banged with his whip-handle
+on the door. Aunt Olive was next seen coming down the timber. She was
+dressed in a manner to cause solicitude and trepidation. She wore knit
+mits, had a lofty poke bonnet, and a "checkered" gown gay enough for a
+valance, and, although it was yet very early spring, she carried a
+parasol over her head. There was deep interest in the books as her form
+also darkened the festooned door.
+
+Then the pupils breathed freer. But only for a moment. Sarah Lincoln,
+Abraham's sister, looked out of the window, and beheld a sight which she
+was not slow to communicate.
+
+"Abe," she whispered, "look there!"
+
+"Blue-nose Crawford," whispered the tall boy, "as I live!"
+
+In a few moments the school was all eyes and mouths. Blue-nose Crawford
+bore the reputation of being a very hard taskmaster, and of holding to
+the view that severe discipline was one of the virtues that wisdom ought
+to visit upon the youth. He once lent to Abraham Lincoln Weems's "Life
+of Washington." The boy read it with absorbing interest, but there came
+a driving storm, and the rain ran in the night through the walls of the
+log-cabin and wet and warped the cover of the book. Blue-nose Crawford
+charged young Lincoln seventy-five cents for the damage done to the
+book. "Abe," as he was called, worked three days, at twenty-five cents a
+day, pulling fodder, to pay the fine. He said, long after this hard
+incident, that he did his work well, and that, although his feelings
+were injured, he did not leave so much as a strip of fodder in the
+field.
+
+"The class in reading may take their places," said Andrew Crawford.
+
+It was a tall class, and it was provided with leather-covered English
+Readers. One of the best readers in the class was a Miss Roby, a girl of
+some fifteen years of age, whom young Lincoln greatly liked, and whom he
+had once helped at a spelling match, by putting his finger on his eye
+(_i_) when she had spelled _defied_ with a _y_. This girl read a
+selection with real pathos.
+
+"That gal reads well," said Blue-nose Crawford, or Josiah Crawford, as
+he should be called. "She ought to keep school. We're goin' to need
+teachers in Indiana. People are comin' fast."
+
+Miss Roby colored. She had indeed won a triumph of which every pupil of
+Spencer County might be proud.
+
+"Now, Nathaniel, let's hear you read. You're a strappin' feller, and you
+ought not to be outread by a gal."
+
+Nathaniel raised his book so as to hide his face, like one near-sighted.
+He spread his legs apart, and stood like a drum-major awaiting a word of
+command.
+
+"You may read Section V in poetry," said Mr. Crawford, the teacher.
+"Verses supposed to be written by Alexander Selkirk. Speak up loud, and
+mind your pauses."
+
+He did.
+
+"I am monarch of all I survey," he began, in a tone of vocal thunder.
+Then he made a pause, a very long one. Josiah Crawford turned around in
+great surprise; and Aunt Olive planted the chair in which she had been
+sitting at a different angle, so that she could scrutinize the reader.
+
+The monarch of all he surveyed, which in the case of the boy was only
+one page of the English Reader, was diligently spelling out the next
+line, which he proceeded to pronounce like one long word with surprising
+velocity:
+
+"My-right-there-is-none-to-dispute."
+
+There was another pause.
+
+"Hold down your book," said the master.
+
+"Yes, hold down your book," said Josiah Crawford. "What do ye cover yer
+face for? There's nuthin' to be ashamed of. Now try again."
+
+Nathaniel lowered the book and revealed the singular struggle that was
+going on in his mind. He had to spell out the words to himself, and in
+doing so his face was full of the most distressing grimaces. He
+unconsciously lifted his eyebrows, squinted his eyes, and drew his mouth
+hither and thither.
+
+    "From the cen-t-e-r, center; center, all round _to_ the sea,
+      I am lord of the f-o-w-l _and_-the-brute."
+
+The last line came to a sudden conclusion, and was followed by a very
+long pause.
+
+"Go on," said Andrew Crawford, the master.
+
+"Yes, go on," said Josiah. "At the rate you're goin' now you won't get
+through by candle-light."
+
+Nathaniel lifted his eyebrows and uttered a curiously exciting--
+
+"O"--
+
+"That boy'll have a fit," said Aunt Olive. "Don't let him read any more,
+for massy sake!"
+
+"O--What's that word, master? S-o-l-i-t-u-d-e, so-li-tu-de.
+O--So-li-tu-de."
+
+"O Solitude, where are the charms?" read Mr. Andrew Crawford,
+
+      "That sages have seen in thy face?
+    Better dwell in the midst of alarms
+      Than reign in this horrible place."
+
+Nathaniel followed the master like a race-horse. He went on smoothly
+until he came to "this horrible place," when his face assumed a startled
+expression, like one who had met with an apparition. He began to spell
+out _horrible_, "h-o-r-, hor--there's your hor, _hor_; r-i-b-, there's
+your _rib_, horrib--"
+
+"Don't let that boy read any more," said Aunt Olive.
+
+Nathaniel dropped his book by his side, and cast a far-away glance into
+the timber.
+
+"I guess I ain't much of a reader," he remarked, dryly.
+
+"Stop, sir!" said the master.
+
+Poor Nathaniel! Once, in attempting to read a Bible story, he read, "And
+he smote the Hittite that he died"--"And he smote him Hi-ti-ti-ty, that
+he _did_" with great emphasis and brief self-congratulation.
+
+In wonderful contrast to Nathaniel's efforts was the reading in concert
+by the whole class. Here was shown fine preparation for a forest school.
+The reading of verses, in which "sound corresponded to the
+signification," was smoothly, musically, and admirably done, and we give
+some of these curious exercises here:
+
+
+_Felling trees in a wood._
+
+    Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes;
+    On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks
+    Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets brown,
+    Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.
+
+
+_Sounds of a bow-string._
+
+                                The string let fly
+    Twanged short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry.
+
+
+_The pheasant._
+
+    See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
+    And mounts exulting on triumphant wings.
+
+
+_Scylla and Charybdis._
+
+    Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,
+    And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms.
+    When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,
+    The rough rock roars; tumultuous boil the waves.
+
+
+_Boisterous and gentle sounds._
+
+    Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,
+    The roaring winds' tempestuous rage restrain:
+    Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide,
+    And ships secure without their hawsers ride.
+
+
+_Laborious and impetuous motion._
+
+    With many a weary step, and many a groan,
+    Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone:
+    The huge round stone resulting with a bound,
+    Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.
+
+
+_Regular and slow movement._
+
+    First march the heavy mules securely slow;
+    O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks they go.
+
+
+_Motion slow and difficult._
+
+    A needless Alexandrine ends the song,
+    That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
+
+
+_A rock torn from the brow of a mountain._
+
+    Still gath'ring force, it smokes, and urged amain,
+    Whirls, leaps, and thunders down impetuous to the plain.
+
+
+_Extent and violence of the waves._
+
+    The waves behind impel the waves before,
+    Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore.
+
+
+_Pensive numbers._
+
+    In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
+    Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells,
+    And ever-musing melancholy reigns.
+
+
+_Battle._
+
+            Arms on armor clashing brayed
+    Horrible discord; and the madding wheels
+    Of brazen fury raged.
+
+
+_Sound imitating reluctance._
+
+    For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
+      This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned;
+    Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
+      Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind?
+
+A spelling exercise followed, in which the pupils spelled for places, or
+for the head. Abraham Lincoln stood at the head of the class. He was
+regarded as the best speller in Spencer County. He is noted to have soon
+exhausted all that the three teachers whom he found there could teach
+him. Once, in after years, when he was asked how he came to know so
+much, he answered, "By a willingness to learn of every one who could
+teach me anything."
+
+"Abraham," said Master Crawford, "you have maintained your place at the
+head of the class during the winter. You may take your place now at the
+foot of the class, and try again."
+
+The spelling for turns, or for the head, followed the method of the old
+Webster's "Speller," that was once so popular in country schools:
+
+    ail, to be in trouble.
+    ale, malt liquor.
+    air, the atmosphere.
+    _h_eir, one who inherits.
+    all, the whole.
+    awl, an instrument.
+    al-tar, a place for offerings.
+    al-ter, to change.
+    ant, a little insect.
+    a_u_nt, a sister to a parent.
+    ark, a vessel.
+    arc, part of a circle.
+
+All went correctly and smoothly, to the delight and satisfaction of
+Josiah Crawford and Aunt Olive, until the word _drachm_ was reached,
+when all the class failed except Abraham Lincoln, who easily passed up
+to the head again.
+
+The writing-books, or copy-books, were next shown to the visitors. The
+writing had been done on puncheon-desks with home made ink. Abraham
+Lincoln's copy-book showed the same characteristic hand that signed the
+Emancipation Proclamation. In one corner of a certain page he had
+written an odd bit of verse in which one may read a common experience in
+the struggles of life after what is better and higher. Emerson said, "A
+high aim is curative." Poor backwoods Abe seemed to have the same
+impression, but he did not write it down in an Emersonian way, but in
+this odd rhyme:
+
+    "Abraham Lincoln,
+      His hand and pen,
+    He will be good,
+      But God knows when."
+
+The exercises ended with a grand dialogue translated from Fenelon
+between Dionysius, Pythias, and Damon, in which fidelity in friendship
+was commended. After this, each of the visitors, Aunt Olive included,
+was asked to make a "few remarks." Aunt Olive's remarks were "few," but
+to the point:
+
+"Children, you have read well, and spelled well, and are good
+arithme_tickers_, but you ain't sot still. There!"
+
+Josiah Crawford thought the progress of the school had been excellent,
+but that more of the rod had been needed.
+
+(Where had all the green bushes gone in the clearing, but to purposes of
+discipline?)
+
+Then good Brother Jasper was asked to speak. The "wizard" who could
+speak Latin arose. The pupils could see his great heart under his face.
+It shone through. His fine German culture did not lead him away from the
+solid merits of the forest school.
+
+"There are purposes in life that we can not see," he began, "but the
+secret comes to those who listen to the beating of the human heart, and
+at the doors of heaven. Spirits whisper, as it were. The soul, a great
+right intention, is here; and there is a conscience here which is power;
+and here, for aught we can say, may be some young Servius Tullius of
+this wide republic."
+
+Servius Tullius? Would any one but he have dreamed that the citizens of
+Rome would one day delight to honor an ungainly pupil of that forest
+school?
+
+One day there came to Washington a present to the Liberator of the
+American Republic. It looked as follows, and bore the following
+inscription:
+
+[Illustration: "To Abraham Lincoln, President, for the second time, of
+the American Republic, citizens of Rome present this stone, from the
+wall of Servius Tullius, by which the memory of each of those brave
+assertors of liberty may be associated. Anno 1865."]
+
+It is said that the modest President shrank from receiving such a
+compliment as that. It was too much. He hid away the stone in a
+storeroom of the capital, in the basement of the White House. It now
+constitutes a part of his monument, being one of the most impressive
+relics in the Memorial Hall of that structure. It is twenty-four hundred
+years old, and it traveled across the world to the prairies of Illinois,
+a tribute from the first advocate of the rights of the people to the
+latest defender of all that is sacred to the human soul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE PARABLE PREACHES IN THE WILDERNESS.
+
+
+The house in which young Abraham Lincoln attended church was simple and
+curious, as were the old forest Baptist preachers who conducted the
+services there. It was called simply the "meeting-house." It stood in
+the timber, whose columns and aisles opened around it like a vast
+cathedral, where the rocks were altars and the birds were choirs. It was
+built of rude logs, and had hard benches, but the plain people had done
+more skillful work on this forest sanctuary than on the school-house.
+The log meeting-house stood near the log school-house, and both revealed
+the heart of the people who built them. It was the Prussian
+school-master, trained in the moral education of Pestalozzi, that made
+the German army victorious over France in the late war. And it was the
+New England school-master that built the great West, and made Plymouth
+Rock the crown-stone of our own nation. The world owes to humble
+Pestalozzi what it never could have secured from a Napoleon. It is right
+ideas that march to the conquest, that lift mankind, and live.
+
+It had been announced in the school-house that Jasper the Parable would
+preach in the log church on Sunday. The school-master called the
+wandering teacher "Jasper the Parable," but the visitor became commonly
+known as the "Old Tunker" in the community. The news flew for miles that
+"an old Tunker" was to preach. No event had awakened a greater interest
+since Elder Elkins, from Kentucky, had come to the settlement to preach
+Nancy Lincoln's funeral sermon under the great trees. On that occasion
+all the people gathered from the forest homes of the vast region. Every
+one now was eager to visit the same place in the beautiful spring
+weather, and to "hear what the old Tunker would have to say."
+
+Among the preachers who used to speak in the log meeting-house and in
+Thomas Lincoln's cabin were one Jeremiah Cash, and John Richardson, and
+young Lamar. The two latter preachers lived some ten miles distant from
+the church; but ten miles was not regarded as a long Sabbath-day journey
+in those days in Indiana. When the log meeting-house was found too small
+to hold the people, such preachers would exhort under the trees. There
+used to be held religious meetings in the cabins, after the manner of
+the present English cottage prayer-meetings. These used to be appointed
+to take place at "early candle-lighting," and many of the women who
+attended used to bring tallow dips with them, and were looked upon as
+the "wise virgins" who took oil in their lamps.
+
+It was a lovely Sunday in April. The warm sunlight filled the air and
+bird-songs the trees. The notes of the lark, the sparrow, and the
+prairie plover were bells--
+
+    "To call me to duty, while birds in the air
+    Sang anthems of praise as I went forth to prayer,"
+
+as one of the old hymns used to run. The buds on the trees were
+swelling. There was an odor of walnut and "sassafrax" in the tides of
+the sunny air. Cowslips and violets margined the streams, and the sky
+over all was serene and blue, and bright with the promise of the summer
+days.
+
+The people began to gather about the meeting-house at an early hour. The
+women came first, in corn-field bonnets which were scoop-shaped and
+flaring in front, and that ran out like horns behind. On these
+funnel-shaped, cornucopia-like head-gears there might now and then be
+seen the vanity of a ribbon. The girls carried their shoes in their
+hands until they came in sight of the meeting-house, when they would sit
+down on some mossy plat under an old tree, "bein' careful of the
+snakes," and put them on. All wore linsey-woolsey dresses, of which four
+or five yards of cloth were an ample pattern for a single garment, as
+they had no use for any superfluous polonaises in those times.
+
+Long before the time for the service the log meeting-house was full of
+women, and the yard full of men and horses. Some of the people had come
+from twenty miles away. Those who came from the longest distances were
+the first to arrive--as is usual, for in all matters in life promptness
+is proportioned to exertion.
+
+When the Parable came, Thomas Lincoln met him.
+
+"You can't preach here," said he. "Half the people couldn't hear you.
+You have a small voice. You don't holler and pound like the rest of 'em,
+I take it. Suppose you preach out under the trees, where all the people
+can hear ye. It looks mighty pleasant there. With our old sing-song
+preachers it don't make so much difference. We could hear one of them
+if you were to shut him up in jail. But with you it is different. You
+have been brought up different among those big churches over there. What
+do you say, preacher?"
+
+"I would rather preach under the trees. I love the trees. They are the
+meeting-house of God."
+
+"Say, preacher, would you mind goin' over and preachin' at Nancy's
+grave? Elder Elkins preached there, and the other travelin' ministers.
+Seems kind o' holy over there. Nancy was a good woman, and all the
+people liked her. She was Abraham's mother. The trees around her grave
+are beautiful."
+
+"I would like to preach there, by that lonely grave in the wilderness."
+
+"The Tunker will preach at Nancy's grave," said Thomas Lincoln in a loud
+voice. He led the way to the great cathedral of giant trees, which were
+clouded with swelling buds and old moss, and a long procession of people
+followed him there.
+
+Among them was Aunt Olive, with a corn-field bonnet of immense
+proportions, and her hymn-book. She was a lively worshiper. At all the
+meetings she sang, and at the Methodist meetings she shouted; and after
+all religious occasions she "tarried behind," to discuss the sermon with
+the minister. She usually led the singing. Her favorite hymns were, "Am
+I a soldier of the Cross," "Come, thou Fount of every blessing," and "My
+Bible leads to glory." The last hymn and tune suited her emotional
+nature, and she would pitch it upon a high key, and make the woods ring
+with the curious musical exhortation of the chorus:
+
+      "Sing on, pray on,
+    Ye followers of Emmanuel."
+
+At the early candle-meetings at Thomas Lincoln's cabin and other cabins,
+she sang hymns of a more persuasive character. These were oddly
+appropriate to the hard-working, weary, yet hopeful community. One of
+these began thus:
+
+    "Come, my brethren, let us try,
+      For a little season,
+    Every burden to lay by--
+      Come, and let us reason.
+    What is this that casts you down?
+      What is this that grieves you?
+    Speak, and let the worst be known--
+      Speaking may _relieve_ you."
+
+The music was weird and in a minor key. It was sung often with a
+peculiar motion of the body, a forward-and-backward movement, with
+clasped hands and closed eyes. Another of the pioneer hymns began:
+
+    "Brethren, we have met for worship,
+      And to adore the Lord our God:
+    Will you pray with all your power,
+      While we wait upon the Lord?
+    All is vain unless the Spirit
+      Of the Holy One comes down;
+    Brethren, pray, and heavenly manna
+      Will be showered all around.
+
+    "Sisters, will you join and help us?
+      Moses' sister help-ed him," etc.
+
+The full glory of a spring day in Indiana shone over the vast forests,
+as the Tunker rose to speak under the great trees. It was like an
+Easter, and, indeed, the hymn sung at the opening of the service was
+much like an Easter hymn. It related how--
+
+    "On this lovely morning my Saviour was rising,
+    The chains of mortality fully despising;
+    His sufferings are over, he's done agonizing--
+    This morning my Saviour will think upon _me_."
+
+The individuality of the last line seemed especially comforting to many
+of the toiling people, and caused Aunt Olive to uplift her voice in a
+great shout.
+
+"Come with me," said Jasper; "come with me this morning, and we will
+walk beside the Sea of Galilee together. Galilee! I love to think of
+Galilee--far, far away. The words spoken on the shores of Galilee, and
+on the mountains over-looking Galilee, are the hope of the world. They
+are the final words of our all-loving Father to his children. Times may
+change, but these words will never be exceeded or superseded; nothing
+can ever go beyond these teachings of the brotherhood of man, and the
+way that the heart may find God, and become conscious of the presence of
+God, and know its immortality, and the everlasting truth. What did the
+great Teacher say on Galilee?"
+
+The Parable began to repeat from memory the Sermon on the Mount and the
+Galilean teachings. The birds came and sang in the trees during the long
+recitations, and the people sank down on the grass. Once or twice Aunt
+Olive's corn-field bonnet rose up, and out of it came a shout of
+"Glory!" One enthusiastic brother shouted, at one point of the
+quotations: "That's right, elder; pitch into 'em, and give it 'em--they
+need it. We're all sinners here; a good field to improve upon! Go on!"
+
+It was past high noon when Jasper finished his quotations from the
+Gospels. He then paused, and said:
+
+"Do you want to know who I am, and why I am here, and what has sent me
+forth among the speckled birds of the forest? I will tell you. A true
+life has no secrets--it needs none; it is open to all like the
+revelations of the skies, and the sea, and the heart of Nature--what is
+concealed in the heart is what should not be.
+
+"I had a teacher. He is living now--an old, broken man--a name that will
+sound strange to your ears. He gave up his life to teach the orphans
+made by the war. He studied with them, learned with them, ate with them;
+he saw with their eyes and felt with their hearts. He taught after the
+school of Nature; as Nature teaches the child within, so he taught,
+using outward objects.
+
+"He once said to me:
+
+"'For thirty years my life has been a struggle against poverty. For
+thirty years I have had to forego many of the barest necessities of
+life, and have had to shun the society of my fellow-men for want of
+decent clothes. Many and many times I have gone without a dinner, and
+eaten in bitterness a dry crust of bread on the road, at a time when
+even the poorest were seated around a table. All this I have suffered,
+and am suffering still to-day, and with no other object than to realize
+my plan for helping the poor.'
+
+"When I heard him say that, I loved him. It made me ashamed of my
+selfish life. Then I heard the Dunkards preach, and tell of America over
+the sea. I began to study the words of the Teacher of Galilee. I, too,
+longed to teach. My wife died, and my two children. Then I said: 'I
+will live for the soul. That is all that has any lasting worth. I will
+give up everything for the good of others, and go over the sea, and
+teach the children of the forest.' I am now on my way to see Black Hawk,
+who has promised to send out with me an interpreter and guide. I have
+given up my will, my property, and my name, and I am happy. Good-by, my
+friends. I have nothing, and am happy."
+
+At this point Aunt Olive's corn-field bonnet rose up, and her voice rang
+out on the air:
+
+    "My brother, I wish you well!
+    My brother, I wish you well!
+    When my Lord calls, I hope I shall
+    Be _mentioned_ in the promised land.
+
+    "My sister, I wish you well!" etc.
+
+    "Poor sinners, I wish you well!" etc.
+
+Galilee! There was one merry, fun-making boy in that sacred place, to
+whom, according to tradition, that word had a charm. He used to love to
+mimic the old backwoods preachers, and he became very skeptical in
+matters of Christian faith and doctrine, but he never forgot the
+teachings of the Teacher of Galilee. In the terrible duties that fell to
+his lot the principles of the Galilean teachings came home to his heart,
+and he came to know in experience what he had not accepted from the
+mouths of men. He is said to have said, just before his death, which
+bowed the nation: "When the cares of state are over, I want to go to
+Galilee," or words of like meaning. The legend is so beautiful that we
+could wish it to be true.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+AUNT INDIANA'S PROPHECIES.
+
+
+Jasper heard the local stories at the smithy and at Aunt Indiana's with
+intense interest. To him they furnished a study of the character of the
+people. They were not like stories of beautiful spiritual meaning that
+he had been accustomed to hear at Marienthal, at Weimar, and on the
+Rhine. The tales of Richter, Haupt, Hoffman, and Baron Fouque could
+never have been created here. These new settlements called for the
+incident or joke that represented a practical fact, and not the
+soul-growth of imagination. The one question of education was, "Can you
+cipher to the rule of three?" and of religion, "Have you found the
+Lord?" The favorite tales were of Indians, bears, and ghosts, and the
+rough hardships that overcome life. Jasper heard these tales with a
+sympathetic heart.
+
+The true German story is a parable, a word with a soul. Jasper loved
+them, for the tales of a people are the heart of a people, and express
+the progress of culture and opinion.
+
+One day, as Jasper was cobbling at Aunt Olive's, he sought to teach her
+a lesson of contentment by a German household story. Johnnie Kongapod
+had come in, and the woman was complaining of her hard and restricted
+life.
+
+"Aunt Indiana," said Jasper, "do you have fairies here?"
+
+"Never have seen any. We don't spin air here in America."
+
+"We have fairies in Germany. All the children there pass through
+fairy-land. There once came a fairy to an old couple who were
+complaining, like you."
+
+"Like me? I'm the contentedest woman in these parts. 'Tis no harm to
+wish for what you haven't got."
+
+"There came a fairy to them, and said:
+
+"'You may have three wishes. Wish.'
+
+"The old couple thought:
+
+"'We must be very wise,' said the woman, 'and not make any mistake,
+since we can only wish three times. I wish I had a pudding.'
+
+"Immediately there came a pudding upon the table. The poor woman was
+greatly surprised.
+
+"'There, you see what you have done by your foolish wishing!' said the
+man.
+
+"'One of our opportunities has gone,' said the woman. 'We have but two
+chances left. We must be _wiser_.'
+
+"They sat and looked into the fire. The fairy had disappeared from the
+hearth, and there were only embers and ashes there.
+
+"The man grew angry that his wife had lost one of their opportunities.
+
+"'Nothin' but a pudding!' said he. 'I wish that that miserable pudding
+were hung to your nose!'
+
+"The pudding leaped from the table and hung at the end of the old
+woman's nose.
+
+"'There!' said she, 'now you see what you have done by your foolish
+wishing.'
+
+"The old man sighed. 'We have but one wish left. We must now be the
+wisest people in all the world.'
+
+"They watched the dying embers, and thought. As they did so, the pudding
+grew heavy at the end of the old woman's nose. At last she could endure
+it no longer.
+
+"'Oh!' she said, 'how I wish that pudding was off again!'
+
+"The pudding disappeared, and the fairy was gone."
+
+"'Tain't true," said Aunt Indiana.
+
+"Yes," said Jasper, "what is true to life is true. Stories are the
+alphabet of life."
+
+Johnnie Kongapod had listened to the tale with delight. Aunt Indiana
+knew that no fairy would ever appear on her hearth, but Johnnie was not
+so sure.
+
+"I've seen 'em," said he.
+
+"You--what? What have you seen? I'd like to know," said Aunt Indiana.
+
+"Fairies--"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"When I've been asleep."
+
+"There never was any fairies in my dreams," said Aunt Indiana.
+
+No, there were not. The German Tunker and the prairie Indian might see
+fairies, but the hard-working Yankee pioneer had no faculties for
+creative fancy. Her fairy was the plow that breaks the ground, or the
+axe that fells the timber. Yet the German soul-tale seemed to haunt her,
+and she at last said:
+
+"I wish that we had more such stories as that. It is pleasant talk. Abe
+Lincoln tells such things out of the Pilgrim's Progress. He's all
+imagination, just like you and the Indians. People who don't have much
+to do run to such things. I suppose that he has read that Pilgrim's
+Progress over a dozen times."
+
+"I have observed that the boy had ideals," said Jasper.
+
+"What's them?" said Aunt Indiana.
+
+"People build life out of ideals," said Jasper. "A cathedral is an ideal
+before it is a form. So is a house, a glass--everything. He has the
+creative imagination."
+
+"Yes--that's what I said: always going around with a book in his hand,
+as though he was walking on the air."
+
+"His step-mother says that he's one of the best of boys. He does
+everything that he can for her, and he has never given her an unkind
+word. He loves his step-mother like an own mother, and he forgets
+himself for others. These are good signs."
+
+"Signs--signs! Stop your cobblin', elder, and let me prophesy! That boy
+just takes after his father, and he will never amount to anything in
+this world or any other. His mother what is dead was a good woman--an
+awful good woman; but she was sort o' visionary. They say that she used
+to see things at camp-meetin's, and lose her strength, and have far-away
+visions. She might have seen fairies. But she was an awful good
+woman--good to everybody, and everybody loved her; and we were all sorry
+when she died, and we all love her grave yet. It is queer, but we all
+seem to love her grave. A sermon goes better when it is preached there
+under the great trees. Some folks had rather hear a sermon preached
+there than at the meetin'-house. Some people leave a kind o' influence;
+_Miss_ Linken did. The boy means well--his heart is all right, like his
+poor dead mother's was--but he hasn't got any head on 'im, like as I
+have. He hasn't got any calculation. And now, elder, I'm goin' to say
+it, though I'm sorry to: he'll never amount to shucks! There, now!
+Josiah Crawford says so, too."
+
+"There is one very strong point about Abraham," said Jasper. "He has a
+keen sense of what is right, and he is always governed by it. He has
+faith that right is might. Didn't you ever notice it?"
+
+"Yes, I'll do him justice. I never knew him to do a thing that he
+thought wrong--never. He couldn't. He takes after his mother's folks,
+and they say that there is Quaker blood in the Linkens."
+
+"But, my good woman, a fool would be wise if he always did right,
+wouldn't he? There is no higher wisdom than to always do right. And a
+boy that has a heart to feel for every one, and a conscience that is
+true to a sense of right, and that loves learning more than anything
+else, and studies continually, is likely to find a place in the world.
+
+"Now, I am going to prophesy. This country is going to need men to lead
+them, and Abraham Lincoln will one day become a leader among men. He
+leads now. His heart leads; his mind leads. I can see it. The world here
+is going to need men of knowledge, and it will select the man of the
+most learning who has the most heart, the most sympathy with the people.
+It will select him. I have a spiritual eye, and I can see."
+
+"A leader of the people--Abe Lincoln! You have said it now. I would as
+soon think of Johnnie Kongapod! A leader of the people! Are you daft?
+When the prairies leap into corn-fields and the settlements into banks
+of gold, and men can travel a mile a minute, and clodhoppers become
+merchants and Congressers, and as rich as Spanish grandees, then Abraham
+Lincoln may become a leader of the people, but not till then! No, elder,
+you are no Samuel, that has come down here among the sons of Jesse to
+find a shepherd-boy for a king. You ain't no Samuel, and he ain't no
+shepherd-boy. He all runs to books and legs, and I tell you he ain't got
+no calculation. Now, I've prophesied and you've prophesied."
+
+"Time tells the truth about all things," said Jasper. "We shall meet, if
+I make my circuits, and we will talk of our prophecies in other years,
+should Providence permit. My soul has set its mark on that boy: wait,
+and we will see if the voice within me speaks true. It has always spoken
+true until now."
+
+At the close of this prophetic dialogue the subject of it appeared at
+the door. He was a tall boy, with a dark face, homely, ungainly,
+awkward. He wore a raccoon-skin cap, a linsey-woolsey shirt, and leather
+breeches, and was barefooted, although the weather was yet cool. He did
+not look like one who would ever cause the thrones of the world to lean
+and listen, or who would find in the Emperor of all the Russias the
+heart of a brother.
+
+"Abe," said Aunt Indiana, "the Tunker here has been speakin' well of
+you, though you don't deserve it. He just says as how you are goin' to
+be somebody, and make somethin' in the world. I hope you will, though
+you're a shaky tree to hang hopes on. I ain't got nothin' ag'in ye. He
+says that you'll become a leader among men. What do you think o' that,
+Abe? Don't stand there gawkin'. Come in and sit down."
+
+"It helps one to have some one believe in him," said the tall boy. "One
+tries to fulfill the good prophecies made about him. I wish I was
+good.--Thank ye, elder, for your good opinion. I wonder if I will ever
+make anything? I sometimes think I will. I look over toward mother's
+grave there, and think I will; but you can't tell. Crawford the
+schoolmaster he thinks good of me, but the other Crawford--Josiah--he's
+ag'in me. But if we do right, we'll all come out right."
+
+"Yes, my boy," said Jasper, "have faith that right is might. This is
+what the Voice and the Being within tells me to preach and to teach. Let
+us have faith that right is might, and do our duty, and the Spirit of
+God will give us a new nature, and make us new creatures, and the
+rebirth of the spiritual life into the eternal kingdom."
+
+The prairie winds breathed through the trees. A robin came and sang in
+the timber.
+
+The four sat thoughtful--the Tunker, the Indian, the pioneer woman, and
+the merry, sad-faced boy. It was a commonplace scene in the Indiana
+timber, and that one lonely grave is all that is left to recall such
+scenes to-day--the grave of the pioneer mother.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE INDIAN RUNNER.
+
+
+The young May moon was hanging over the Mississippi on the evening when
+Jasper came to the village of the Sacs and Foxes. This royal town, the
+head residence of the two tribes, and the ancient burying-ground of the
+Indian race, was very beautifully situated at the junction of the Rock
+River with the Mississippi. The Father of Waters, which is in many
+places turbid and uninteresting, here becomes a clear and impetuous
+stream, flowing over beds of rock and gravel, amid high and wooded
+shores. The rapids--the water-ponies of the Indians--here come leaping
+down, surging and foaming, and are checked by monumental islands. The
+land rises from the river in slopes, like terraces, crowned with hills
+and patriarchal trees. From these hills the sight is glorious. On one
+hand rolls the mighty river, and on the other stretch vast prairies,
+flower-carpeted, sun-flooded, a sea of vegetation, the home of the
+prairie plover and countless nesters of the bright, warm air. It is a
+park, whose extent is bounded by hundreds of miles.
+
+Water-swept and beautiful lies Rock Island, where on a parapet of rock
+was built Fort Armstrong in the days of the later Indian troubles.
+
+The royal town and burying-ground was a place of remarkable fertility.
+The grape-vine tangled the near woods, the wild honeysuckle perfumed the
+air, and wild plums blossomed white in May and purpled with fruit in
+summer. If ever an Indian race loved a town, it was this. The Indian
+mind is poetic. Nature is the book of poetry to his instinct, and here
+Nature was poetic in all her moods.
+
+The Indians venerated the graves of their ancestors. Here they kept the
+graves beautiful, and often carried food to them and left it for the
+dead.
+
+The chant at these graves was tender, and shows that the human heart
+everywhere is the same. It was like this:
+
+    "Where are you, my father?
+      Oh, where are you now?
+    I'm longing to see thee;
+      I'm wailing for thee.
+                          (Wail.)
+
+    "Are you happy, my father?
+      Are you happy now?
+    I'm longing to see thee;
+      I'm wailing for thee.
+                          (Wail.)
+
+    "Spring comes to the river,
+      But where, then, art thou?
+    I'm longing to see thee;
+      I'm wailing for thee.
+                          (Wail.)
+
+    "The flowers come forever;
+      I'll meet thee again;
+    I'm longing to see thee--
+      Time bears me to thee!"
+                           (Wail.)
+
+As Jasper ascended the high bluffs of the lodge where Black Hawk dwelt,
+he was followed by a number of Indians who came out of their houses of
+poles and bark, and greeted him in a kindly way. The dark chief met him
+at the door of the lodge.
+
+"You are welcome, my father. The new moon has bent her bow over the
+waters, and you have come back. You have kept your promise. I have kept
+mine. There is the boy."
+
+An Indian boy of lithe and graceful form came out of the lodge, followed
+by an old man, who was his uncle. The boy's name was Waubeno, and his
+uncle's was Main-Pogue. The latter had been an Indian runner in Canada,
+and an interpreter to the English there. He spoke English well. The boy
+Waubeno had been his companion in his long journeys, and, now that the
+interpreter was growing old, remained true to him. The three stood
+there, looking down on the long mirror of the Mississippi--Black Hawk,
+Main-Pogue, and Waubeno--and waiting for Jasper to speak.
+
+"I have come to bring you peace," said Jasper--"not the silence of the
+hawk or the bow-string, but peace here."
+
+He laid his hand on his breast, and all the Indians did the same.
+
+"I am a man of peace," continued Jasper. "If any one should seek to slay
+me, I would not do him any harm. I would forgive him, and pray that his
+blindness might go from his soul, and that he might see a better life.
+You welcome me, you are true to me, and, whatever may happen, I will be
+true to your race."
+
+The black chief bowed, Main-Pogue, and the boy Waubeno.
+
+"I believe you," said Black Hawk. "Your face says 'yes' to your words.
+The Indian's heart is always true to a friend. Sit down; eat, smoke the
+peace-pipe, and let us talk. Sit down. The sky is clear, and the
+night-bird cries for joy on her wing. Let us all sit down and talk. The
+river rolls on forever by the graves of the braves of old. Let us sit
+down."
+
+The squaws brought Jasper some cakes and fish, and Black Hawk lighted
+some long pipes and gave them to Main-Pogue and Waubeno.
+
+"I have brought the boy here for you," said Black Hawk. "He comes of the
+blood of the brave. Let me tell you his story. It will shame the
+pale-face, but let me tell you the story. You will say that the Indian
+can be great, like the pale-face, when I tell you his story. It will
+smite your heart. Listen."
+
+A silence followed, during which a few puffs of smoke curled into the
+air from the black chief's pipe. He broke his narrative by such
+silences, designed to be impressive, and to offer an opportunity for
+thought on what had been said.
+
+Strange as it may seem to the reader, the story that follows is
+substantially true, and yet nothing in classic history or modern heroism
+can surpass in moral grandeur the tale that Black Hawk was always proud
+to tell:
+
+"Father, that is the boy. He knows all the ways from the Great Lakes to
+the long river, from the great hills to Kaskaskia. You can trust him; he
+knows the ways. Main-Pogue knows all the ways. Main-Pogue was a runner
+for the pale-face. He has taught him the ways. Their hearts are like one
+heart, Main-Pogue's and Waubeno's.
+
+[Illustration: BLACK HAWK TELLS THE STORY OF WAUBENO.]
+
+"His father is dead, Waubeno's. Main-Pogue has been a father to him.
+They would die for each other. Main-Pogue says that Waubeno may run with
+you, if I say that he may run. I say so. Main-Pogue and Waubeno are true
+to me.
+
+"The boy's father is dead, I said. Who was the father of that
+boy?--Waubeno, stand up."
+
+The boy arose, like a tall shadow. There was a silence, and Black Hawk
+puffed his pipe, then laid it beside his blanket.
+
+"Who was the father of Waubeno? He was a brave, a warrior. He wore the
+gray plume, and honor to him was more than life. He would not lie, and
+they put him to death. He was true as the stars, and they killed him."
+
+There followed another silence.
+
+"Father, you teach. You teach the head; you teach the heart: to live a
+true life, is the thing to teach--the thing you call conscience, soul,
+those are the right things to teach. What are books to the head, if the
+soul is not taught to be true?
+
+"Father, the father of Waubeno could teach the pale-face. In the head?
+No, in the heart? No, in the soul, which is the true book of the Great
+Spirit that you call God. You came to us to teach us God. It is good.
+You are a brother, but God came to us before. He has written the law of
+right in the soul of every man. The right will find the light. You teach
+the way--you bring the Word of him who died for mankind. It is good.
+I've got you a runner to run with you. It is good. You help the right to
+find the light.
+
+"Father, listen. I am about to speak. Before the great war with the
+British brother (1812) that boy's father struck down to the earth a
+pale-face who had done him wrong. The white man died. He who wrongs
+another does not deserve the sun. He died, and his soul went to the
+shadows. The British took the red warrior prisoner for killing this man
+who had wronged him. Waubeno was a little one then, when they took his
+father prisoner.
+
+"The British told the old warrior that they had condemned him to die.
+
+"'I am not afraid to die,' said the warrior. 'Let me go to the
+Ouisconsin (Wisconsin) and see my family once more, and whisper my last
+wish in the ear of my boy, and I will return to you and die. I will
+return at the sunrise.'
+
+"'You would never return,' said the commander of the stockade.
+
+"The warrior strode before him.
+
+"'Can a true man lie?'
+
+"The commander looked into his face, and saw his soul.
+
+"'Well, go,' said he. 'I would like to see an Indian who would come back
+to die.'
+
+"The warrior went home, under the stars. He told his squaw all. He had
+six little children, and he hugged them all. Waubeno was the oldest boy.
+He told him all, and pressed him to his heart. He whispered in his
+ear.--What was it he said, Waubeno?"
+
+The shadowy form of the boy swayed in the dim light, as he answered. He
+said:
+
+"'Avenge my death! Honor my memory. The Great Spirit will teach you
+how.' That is what my father said to me, and I felt the beating of his
+heart."
+
+There was a deep silence. Then Black Hawk said:
+
+"The warrior looked down on the Ouisconsin under the stars. He looked up
+to heaven, and cried, 'Lead thou my boy!' Then he set his face toward
+the stockades of Prairie du Chien.
+
+"He strode across the prairie as the sun was rising; he arrived in time,
+and--Father, listen!"
+
+There was another silence, so deep that one might almost hear the
+puffing smoke as it rose on the air.
+
+"_They shot him!_ That is his boy, Waubeno."
+
+Jasper stood silent; he thought of Johnnie Kongapod's story, and the
+night-scene at Pigeon Creek.
+
+"I shall teach him a better way," said Jasper, at last. "I will lead him
+to honor the memory of his great father in a way that he does not now
+know. The Great Spirit will guide us both. His father was a great man. I
+will lead him to become a greater."
+
+"Father," said the boy, coming forward, "I will always be true to you,
+but I have sworn by the stars."
+
+Jasper stood like one in a dream. Could such a tale as this be true
+among savages? Honor like this only needed the gospel teaching to do
+great deeds. Jasper saw his opportunity, and his love of mankind never
+glowed before as it did then. He folded his hands, closed his eyes, and
+his silent thoughts winged upward to the skies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO.
+
+
+Jasper and Waubeno crossed the prairies to Lake Michigan. It was June,
+the high tide of the year. The long days poured their sunlight over the
+seas of flowers. The prairie winds were cool, and the new vegetation was
+alive with insects and birds.
+
+The first influence that Jasper tried to exert on Waubeno was to induce
+him to forego the fixed resolution to avenge his father's death.
+
+"The first thing in education," he used to say, "is conscience, the
+second is the heart, and the third is the head."
+
+He had planned to teach Waubeno while the Indian boy should be teaching
+him, and he wished to follow his own theory that a new pupil should
+first learn to be governed by his moral sense.
+
+"Waubeno," he said, in their long walk over the prairie, "I wish to
+teach you and make you wise, but before I can do you justice you must
+make a promise. Will you, Waubeno?"
+
+"I will. You would not ask me to do what is wrong."
+
+"It may be a hard thing, but, Waubeno, I wish you to promise me that
+you will never seek to avenge your father. Will you, Waubeno?"
+
+"Parable, I will promise you any right thing but that. I have made
+another promise about that thing--it must hold."
+
+"Waubeno, I can not teach you as I would while you carry malice in your
+heart. The soul does not see clearly that is dark with evil. Do you see?
+I wish it for your good."
+
+"The white man punishes his enemies, does he not? Why should not I
+avenge a wrong? The white fathers at Malden" (the trade-post on Lake
+Erie) "avenge every wrong that is done them by the Indians, do they
+not?"
+
+"Christ died for his enemies. He forgave them, dying. You have heard."
+
+"Then why do his followers not do the same?"
+
+"They do."
+
+"I have never seen one who did."
+
+"Not one?"
+
+"No, not one."
+
+"Then they are false to the cross. Waubeno, I love you. I am seeking
+your good. Trust me. I would make you any promise that I could. Make me
+this promise, and then we will be brothers. Your vow rises between us
+like a cloud."
+
+"Parable, listen. I will promise, on one condition."
+
+"What, Waubeno?"
+
+"You say that right is might, Parable?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"_When I find a single white man who defends an Indian to his own hurt
+because it is right, I will promise._ I have known many white men who
+defended the Indian because they thought that it was good for them to
+do it--good for their pockets, good for their church, good for their
+souls in another world--but never one to his own harm, because it was
+right; listen, Parable--never one to his own harm because it was right.
+When I meet one--such a one--I will promise you what you ask. Parable,
+my folks did right because it was right."
+
+"Waubeno, I once knew a boy who defended a turtle to his own harm,
+because it was right. The boys laughed at him, but his soul was true to
+the turtle."
+
+"I would like to meet that boy," Waubeno said. "He and I would be
+brothers. But I have never seen such a boy, Parable. I have never seen
+any man who had the worth of my own father, and, till I do, I shall hold
+to my vow to him! God heard that vow, and he shall see that I prove true
+to a man who died for the truth!"
+
+The two came in sight of blue Lake Michigan, where the old Jesuit
+explorer had had a vision of a great city; and where Point au Sable, the
+San Domingo negro, for a time settled, hoping to be made an Indian king.
+Here he found the hospitable roofs of John Kinzie, the pioneer of
+Chicago, the Romulus of the great mid-continent city, where storehouses
+abounded with peltries and furs.
+
+John Kinzie (the father of the famous John H. Kinzie) was a grand
+pioneer, like the Pilgrim Fathers of the elder day. He dealt honestly
+with the Indians, and won the hearts of the several tribes. He settled
+in Chicago in 1804, at which time a block-house was built by the
+Government as a frontier house or garrison. This frontier house stood
+near the present Rush Street Bridge. Mr. Kinzie's house stood on the
+north side of the Chicago River, opposite the fort. The storm-beaten
+block-house was to be seen in Chicago as late as 1857, and the place of
+Mr. Kinzie's home will ever be held as sacred ground. The frontier house
+was known as Fort Dearborn. A little settlement grew around the fort and
+the hospitable doors of Mr. Kinzie, until in 1830 it numbered twelve
+houses. Twelve houses in Chicago in 1830! Pass the bridge of sixty
+years, and lo! the rival city of the Western world, with its more than a
+million people--more than fulfilling the old missionary's dream!
+
+For twenty years John Kinzie was the only white man not connected with
+the garrison and trading-post who lived in northern Illinois. He was a
+witness of the Indian massacre of the troops in 1812, when he himself
+was driven from his home by the lake.
+
+He saw another and different scene in August, 1821--a scene worthy of a
+poet or painter--the Great Treaty, in which the Indian chiefs gave up
+most of their empire east of the Mississippi. There came to this
+decisive convocation the plumes of the Ottawas, Chippewas, and
+Pottawattamies. General Cass was there, and the old Indian agents. The
+chiefs brought with them their great warriors, their wives and children.
+There the prairie Indians made their last stand but one against the
+march of emigration to the Mississippi.
+
+Me-te-nay, the young orator of the Pottawattamies, was there, to make a
+poetic appeal for his race. But the counsels of the white chiefs were
+too persuasive and powerful. A treaty was concluded, which virtually
+gave up the Indian empire east of the Mississippi.
+
+Then the chiefs and the warriors departed, their red plumes
+disappearing over the prairie in the sunset light. Before them rolled
+the Mississippi. Behind them lay the blue seas of the lakes. It was a
+sorrowful procession that slowly faded away. Some twelve years after, in
+August, 1835, another treaty was concluded with the remaining tribes,
+and there occurred the last dance of the Pottawattamies on the grounds
+where the city of Chicago now stands.
+
+Five thousand Indians were present, and nearly one thousand joined in
+the dance. The latter assembled at the council-house, on the place where
+now is the northeast corner of North Water and Rush Streets, and where
+the Lake House stands. Their faces were painted in black and vermilion;
+their hair was gathered in scalp-locks on the tops of their heads, and
+was decorated with Indian plumes. They were led by drums and rattles.
+They marched in a dancing movement along the river, and stopped before
+each house to perform the grotesque figures of their ancient traditions.
+
+They seemed to be aware that this was their last gathering on the lake.
+The thought fired them. Says one who saw them:
+
+"Their eyes were wild and bloodshot. Their muscles stood out in great,
+hard knots, as if wrought to a tension that must burst them. Their
+tomahawks and clubs were thrown and brandished in every direction."
+
+The dance was carried on in a procession through the peaceful streets,
+and was concluded at Fort Dearborn in presence of the officers and
+soldiers of the garrison. It was the last great Indian gathering on the
+lake.
+
+A new civilization began in the vast empire of the inland seas with the
+signing of the Treaty of Chicago and these concluding rites. Around the
+home of pastoral John Kinzie were to gather the new emigrations of the
+nations of the world, and the Queen City of the Lakes was to rise, and
+Progress to make the seat of her empire here. Never in the history of
+mankind did a city leap into life like this, which is now setting on her
+brow the crown of the Columbus domes.
+
+On the arrival of Jasper and Waubeno at Fort Dearborn, an incident
+occurred which affords a picture of the vanished days of the prairie
+chiefs and kings. There came riding up to the trading-houses a
+middle-aged chief named Shaubena.
+
+This chief may be said to have been the guardian spirit of the infant
+city of Chicago. He hovered around her for her good for a half-century,
+and was faithful to her interests from the first to the end of his long
+life. If ever an Indian merited a statue or an imperishable memorial in
+a great city, it is Shaubena.
+
+He was born about the year 1775, on the Kankakee River. His home was on
+a prairie island, as a growth of timber surrounded by a prairie used to
+be called. It was near the head-waters of Big Indian Creek, now in De
+Kalb County. This grove, or prairie island, still bears his name.
+
+Here were his corn-fields, his sugar-camps, his lodges, and his happy
+people. In his youth he had been employed by two Ottawa priests, or
+prophets, to instruct the people in the principles of their religion,
+and so he had traveled extensively in the land of the lakes, and spoke
+English well. The old Methodist circuit-riders used to visit him on his
+prairie island, and his family was brought under their influence and
+accepted their faith. When, in 1812, Indian runners from Tecumseh
+visited the tribal towns of the Illinois River to tell the warriors that
+war had been declared between the United States and England, and to
+counsel them to unite with the English, Shaubena endeavored to restrain
+his people from such a course, and to prevent a union of the tribes
+against the American settlers. When he found that the Indians were
+marching against Chicago, he followed them on his pony.
+
+He arrived too late. A scene of blood met his eyes. Along the lake,
+where the blue waves rolled in the sun, lay forty-two dead bodies, the
+remains of white soldiers, women, and children. These bodies lay on the
+prairie for four years, until the rebuilding of Fort Dearborn in 1816,
+with the exception of the mutilated remains of Captain Wells, which
+Black Partridge buried.
+
+John Kinzie and his family had been saved, largely by the influence of
+Shaubena. Black Partridge summoned his warriors to protect the house.
+Shaubena rushed up to the porch-steps and set his rifle across the
+doorway. The rooms were occupied by Mrs. Kinzie, her children, and Mrs.
+Helm. A party of excited Indians rushed upon the place and forced their
+way into the house, to kill the women. The intended massacre was delayed
+by the friendly Indians.
+
+In the mean time a half-breed girl, who had been employed by good John
+Kinzie, and who was devoted to his family, had stolen across the prairie
+to Sauganash, or Billy Caldwell, the friendly chief. This warrior seized
+his canoe and came paddling down the waters, plumed with eagle-feathers,
+with a rifle in his hand. He rose up in his canoe, in the dark, as he
+came to the shore.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Black Partridge.
+
+"I am Sauganash."
+
+"Then save your white friends. You only can save them."
+
+The chief came to the house.
+
+"Go!" he said to the Indians. "I am Sauganash!"
+
+John Kinzie was not only ever after grateful to Sauganash and the
+half-breed girl for what they had done to save him and his family, but
+he saw that he had found a faithful heart in Shaubena. So when, to-day,
+Shaubena came riding up to his door from his prairie island on his
+little pony, he said, heartily:
+
+"Shaubena, thou art welcome!"
+
+Jasper and Waubeno joined John Kinzie and the prairie chief.
+
+"Thou, too art welcome," said John Kinzie. "Whence do you come?"
+
+Jasper told again his simple story: how that he was a Tunker, traveling
+to preach to every one, and to hold schools among the Indians; how that
+he had been to Black Hawk for an interpreter and guide, and how Black
+Hawk had sent out Waubeno as his companion.
+
+Jasper and Waubeno built a cabin of logs, bark, and bushes, in view of
+the lake, a little distance above the fort. They spent several days on
+the rude structure.
+
+"There are many Indian children who come to the trading-post," said
+Jasper, "and I may be able to begin here my first Indian school. You
+will do all you can for me, will you not, Waubeno?"
+
+"Parable, listen! You love my people, and I will do all that this arm,
+this heart, and this head can do for you. Whatever may happen, I will be
+true to you. If it costs my life, I will be true to you! You may have my
+life. Do you not believe Waubeno?"
+
+"Yes, I believe you, Waubeno. You hold honor dearer than life. You say
+that I love your people. You know that I would do right by your people,
+to my own harm. Then why will you not make to me the promise I sought
+from you on the prairie?"
+
+"I have not seen you tried. We know not any one until he is tried. My
+father was tried. He was true. I would talk with the boy that was
+laughed at for defending the turtle. He was tried. He did right because
+it was right. We will know each other better by and by. But Waubeno will
+always be true to you while you are true to Waubeno."
+
+The school opened in the new cabin about the time that the troops were
+withdrawn from the fort and the place left in the charge of the Indian
+agent. Waubeno was the teacher, and Jasper his only pupil. After a time
+Jasper secured a few pupils from the post-trading Indians. But these
+remained but for a short time. They did not like the confinement of
+instruction.
+
+One day a striking event occurred. The Indian agent came to visit the
+school. He was interested in the Indian boys, and especially in the
+progress of Waubeno, who was quick to learn. Before leaving, he said:
+
+"I have a medal in my hand. It was given to me by the general of
+Michigan. On one side of it is the Father of his Country--see him with
+his sword--Washington, the immortal Washington."
+
+He held up the medal and paused.
+
+"On the other side is an Indian chief. He is burying his hatchet. I was
+given the medal as a reward, and I will give it at the end of three
+weeks to the boy in this school who best learns his lessons. Jasper
+shall decide who it shall be."
+
+"I am glad you have said that," said Jasper. "That is the education of
+good-will. I am glad."
+
+The Indian boys studied well, but Waubeno excelled them all. At the end
+of three weeks the Indian agent again appeared, and Jasper hoped to gain
+the heart of Waubeno by the award of the medal.
+
+"To whom shall I give the medal?" asked the agent, at the end of the
+visit.
+
+Jasper looked at his boy.
+
+"It has been won by Waubeno," said Jasper. "I would be unjust not to say
+that all have been faithful, but Waubeno has been the most faithful of
+all."
+
+Waubeno sat like a statue. He did not lift his eyes.
+
+"Waubeno," said the agent, "you have heard what your teacher has said.
+The medal is yours. Here it is. You have reason to be proud of it.
+Waubeno, arise."
+
+Waubeno arose. The agent held out the medal to him.
+
+"Will you let me look at the medal?" said the boy.
+
+The medal was handed to him. He examined it. He did not smile, or show
+any emotion. His look was indifferent and stoical. What was passing in
+his mind?
+
+"The Indian chief is burying his hatchet, in the picture on this side of
+the medal," he said, slowly.
+
+"Yes," said the Indian agent, "he is a good chief."
+
+"The picture on this side represents Washington, you say?"
+
+"Yes--Washington, the Father of his Country."
+
+"He has a sword by his side, general, has he not? See."
+
+"Yes, Waubeno, he has a sword by his side."
+
+"He is a good chief, too?"
+
+"Yes, Waubeno."
+
+"Then why does he not bury his sword? I do not want the medal. What is
+good for the red chief should be as good for the white chief. I would be
+unlike my father to take a mean thing like that."
+
+He stood like a statue, with curled lip and a fiery eye. The agent
+looked queerly at Jasper. He had nothing more to say. He took back the
+medal and went away. When he had gone, Waubeno said to Jasper:
+
+"Pardon, brother; _he_ is not _the_ man--my promise to my father holds.
+They teach well, but they do not do well: it is the doing that speaks to
+the heart. The chief that buried his hatchet is a plumb fool, else the
+white chief would do so too. I have spoken!"
+
+He sat down in silence and looked out upon the lake, on which the waves
+were breaking into foam in the purple distances. His face had an injured
+look, and his eyes glowed.
+
+He arose at last and raised his hand, and said:
+
+"I will pay them all some day!--"
+
+Then he turned to Jasper and marked his disappointed face, and added:
+
+"I will be true to you. Waubeno will be true to you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO.
+
+
+One morning, as Jasper threw aside the curtain of skins that answered
+for a door to his cabin, a strange sight met his eyes. In the clearing
+between the cabin and the lake stood the tall form of an Indian. It was
+the most noble and beautiful form that he had ever seen, and the
+Indian's face and hands were white.
+
+Jasper stood silent. The white Indian bent his eyes upon him, and the
+two looked in surprise at each other.
+
+The Indian's eyes were dark, and like the eyes of the native races; but
+his nose was Roman, and his skin English, with a slight brown tinge. His
+hair was long and curly, and tinged with brown.
+
+"Waubeno," said Jasper, "who is that?"
+
+Waubeno came to the entrance of the cabin, and said:
+
+"The white Indian. _They_ bring good. Speak to him. It is a good sign."
+
+"They?" said Jasper. "I never knew that there were white Indians,
+Waubeno. Where do they live? Where do they come from?"
+
+"From the Great River. They come and go, and come and go, and they are
+unlike other Indians. They know things that other Indians do not know.
+They have a book that talks to them. It came from heaven."
+
+Jasper stepped out on to the clearing, and Waubeno followed him. The
+white Indian awaited their approach.
+
+"Welcome, stranger," said Jasper. "Where are you journeying from?"
+
+"From the Great River (Mississippi) to the land of the lakes. They are
+coming, coming, my brothers from over the sea, as the prophet said. I
+have not seen you here before. I am glad that you have come."
+
+"Where do you live?" asked Jasper.
+
+"My tribe is few, and they wander. They wander till the brothers come.
+We are not like other people here, though all the tribes treat us well
+and give us food and shelter. We are wanderers. We have lived in the
+country many years, and we have often visited Kaskaskia. You will hear
+of us there. When the French came, we thought they were brothers. Then
+the English came, and we felt that they were brothers. The white people
+are our brothers."
+
+"Come in," said Jasper, "and breakfast with us. You are strange to me. I
+never heard of you. You seem like a visitant from another world. Tell
+me, my brother, how came you to be white?"
+
+"I beg your pardon, stranger, but I ask you the same question, How came
+you to be white? The same Power that made your face like the cloud and
+the snow, made mine the same. There is kindred blood in our veins, but I
+know not how it is--we do not know. Our ancestors had a book that told
+us of God, but it was lost when the French raised the cross at
+Kaskaskia. We had a legend of the cross, and of armies marching under
+the cross, and when the bell began to ring over the praise house there,
+we found that we, too, had ancient tales of the bell. More I can not
+tell. All the tribes welcome us, and we belong to all the tribes, and we
+have wandered for years and years. Our fathers wandered."
+
+"This is all very strange," said Jasper. "Tell us more."
+
+"I expected your coming," said the white Indian. "I was not surprised to
+see you here. I expected you. I knew it. There are more white brothers
+to come--many. Let me tell you about it all.
+
+"We had a prophet once. He said that we came from over the sea, and that
+we would never return, but that we must wander and wander, and that one
+day our white brothers would come from over the sea to us. They are
+coming; their white wagons are crossing the plains. Every day they are
+coming. I love to see them come and pass. The prophet spoke true.
+
+"The French say that we came from a far-away land called Wales. The
+French say that a voyager, whose name was Modoc, set sail for the West
+eight hundred years ago, and was never heard of again in his own land;
+that his ships drifted West, and brought our fathers here. That is what
+the French say. I do not know, but I think that you and I are brothers.
+I feel it in my heart. You have treated me like a brother, and I kiss
+you in my heart. I love the English. They are my friends. I am going to
+Malden. There will be more white faces here when I come again."
+
+He took breakfast in the cabin, and went away. Jasper hardly
+comprehended the visit. He sought the Indian agent, and described to him
+the appearance of the wandering stranger, and related the story that the
+man had told.
+
+"There are white crows, white blackbirds, white squirrels, and white
+Indians," said the agent, "strange as it may seem. I know nothing about
+the origin of any of them--only that they do exist. Ever since the
+French and Indians came to the lakes white Indians have been seen. So
+have white crows and blackbirds. The French claim that these white
+Indians are of Welsh origin, and are the descendants of a body of
+mariners who were driven to our shores in the twelfth century by some
+accident of navigation or of weather. If so, the Welsh are the second
+discoverers of America, following the Northmen. But I put no faith in
+these traditions. I only know that from time to time a white-faced
+Indian is seen in the Mississippi Valley. There are many tales and
+traditions of them. It is simply a mystery that will never be solved."
+
+"But what am I to think of the white Indian's story?"
+
+"Simply that he had been taught by the French romancers, and that he
+believed it himself. Black faces have strangely appeared among white
+peoples, and Nature alone, could she speak, could explain her laws in
+these cases. The Indians have various traditions of the white Indian's
+appearance in the regions about Chicago; they regard him as a
+medicine-man, or a prophet, or a kind of good ghost. It is thought to be
+good fortune to meet him."
+
+"Why does he come here?" said Jasper.
+
+"To see the white people. He believes that the white people are his
+kindred, and that they are coming, 'coming,' and one day that they will
+flock here in multitudes. The French have told him this. He is a
+mythical character. Somehow he has white blood in his veins. I can not
+tell how. The Welsh tradition may be true, but it is hardly probable."
+
+Years passed. The white Indian appeared again. The fort had become a
+town. The Indian races were disappearing. He saw the white wagons
+crossing the prairies, and the reluctant Pottawattomies making their way
+toward the Great River and the lands of the sunset. He went away,
+solitary as when he came, and was never seen again.
+
+Who may have been these mysterious persons whose white faces for
+generations haunted the lakes and the plains? They appeared at
+Kaskaskia, their canoes glided mysteriously along the Mississippi, and
+they were often seen at the hunting-camps of the North. They sought the
+French and the English as soon as these races began to make settlements,
+and they seemed to be strangely familiar with English tones, sounds, and
+words.
+
+Jasper loved to look out from his cabin on the blue lake, and to dream
+of the old scenes of the Prussian war, of Koerner, Von Weber, of
+Pestalozzi, and his friend Froebel, and contrast them with the rude new
+life around him. The past was there, but the future was here, and here
+was his work for the future. It is not what a man has that makes him
+happy, but what he is; not his present state, but the horizon of the
+future around him that imparts glow to life, and Jasper was at peace
+with himself in the sense of doing his duty. Heaven to him was bright
+with the smile of God, and he longed no more for the rose-gardens of
+Marienthal or the castles of the Rhine.
+
+The appearance of the white Indian filled the mind of Waubeno with pride
+and hope.
+
+"We will be happy now," he said. "You will be happy now; nothing happens
+to them who see the white Indian; all goes well. I know that you are
+good within, else he would not come; only they whose beings within are
+good see the white Indian, and he brings bright suns and moons and
+calumets of peace, and so the days go on forever. I now know that you
+speak true. And Waubeno has seen him; he will do well; he has seen the
+white crow among the black crows, and he will do well. Happy moons await
+Waubeno."
+
+The lake was glorious in these midsummer days. The prairie roses hung
+from the old trees in the groves, and the air rang with the joyful notes
+of the lark and plover. Indians came to the fort and went away.
+Pottawattomies encamped near the place and visited the agency, and white
+traders occasionally appeared here from Malden and Fort Wayne.
+
+But these were uneventful days of Fort Dearborn. The stories of Mrs.
+John Kinzie are among the most interesting memories of these days of
+general silence and monotony. The old Kinzie house was situated where is
+now the junction of Pine and North Water Streets. The grounds sloped
+toward the banks of the river. It had a broad piazza looking south, and
+before it lay a green lawn shaded by Lombardy poplars and a cottonwood
+tree. Across the river rose Fort Dearborn, amid groves of locust trees,
+the national flag blooming, as it were, above it.
+
+The cottonwood tree in the yard was planted by John Kinzie, and lived
+until Chicago became a great city, in Long John Wentworth's day.
+
+The old residents of Chicago will ever recall the beauty of the outlook
+from the south piazza. At the dull period of the agency, only an Indian
+canoe, perhaps from Mackinaw, disturbed the peace of the river.
+
+It was on this piazza that on a June morning was heard the chorus of
+Moore's Canadian Boat Song on the Chicago River, and here General Lewis
+Cass presently appeared. The great men of the New West often gathered
+here after that. Here the best stories of the lake used to be told by
+voyagers, and Mark Beaubien, we may well suppose, often played his
+violin.
+
+The scene of the lake and river from the place was changed by moonlight
+into romance.
+
+Amid such scenes the old Chief Shaubena related the legends of the
+tribes, and Mrs. Kinzie the thrilling episodes of the massacre of 1812.
+Jasper, we may imagine, joined the company, with the beautiful spiritual
+tales of the Rhine, and Waubeno added his delightful wonder-tale of the
+white Indian, whose feet brought good fortune. No one then dreamed that
+John Kinzie's home stood for two millions of people who would come there
+before the century should close, or that the cool cottonwood tree would
+throw its shade over some of the grandest scenes in the march of the
+world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+LAFAYETTE AT KASKASKIA--THE STATELY MINUET.
+
+
+Jasper made the best use of the story-telling method of influence in his
+school in the little cabin on the lake near Chicago River. He sought to
+impart moral ideas by the old Roman fables and German folk-lore stories.
+He often told the tale of the poor girl who went out for a few drops of
+water for her dying mother, in the water famine, and how her dipper was
+changed into silver, gold, and diamonds, as she shared the water with
+the sufferers on her return. But neither AEsop nor fairy lore so
+influenced the Indian boys as his story of the Indiana boy who defended
+the turtles and pitied the turtle with the broken shell.
+
+"I would like to meet him," said Waubeno, one day when the story had
+been told. "What is his name, Parable? What do you call him by?"
+
+"Lincoln," said Jasper, "Abraham Lincoln."
+
+"Where does he live, Parable?"
+
+"On Pigeon Creek, in Indiana."
+
+"Is the place far away?"
+
+"Yes, very far away by water, and a hard journey by land. Pigeon Creek
+is far away, near the Ohio River; south, Waubeno--far away to the
+south."
+
+"Will you ever go there again?"
+
+"Yes--I hope to go there again, and to take you along with me," said
+Jasper. "I have planned to go down the Illinois in the spring, in a
+canoe, to the Mississippi, and down the Mississippi to the Ohio, and
+visit Kaskaskia, and thence along the Ohio to the Wabash, and to the
+home where the boy lives who defended the turtles. It will be a long
+journey, and I expect to stop at many places, and preach and teach and
+form schools. I want you to go with me and guide my canoe. All these
+rivers are beautiful in summer. They are shaded by trees, and run
+through prairies of flowers. The waters are calm, and the skies are
+bright, and the birds sing continually. O Waubeno, this is a beautiful
+world to those who use it rightly--a beautiful, beautiful world!"
+
+"Me will go," said Waubeno. "Me would see that boy. I want to see a
+story boy, as you say."
+
+The attempt to establish an Indian school on the Chicago was not wholly
+successful. The pupils did not remain long enough to receive the
+intended influence. They came from encampments that were never stable.
+The Indian village was there one season, and gone the next. The Indians
+who came in canoes to the agency soon went away again. Jasper, in the
+spring of 1825, resolved to carry out the journey that he had described
+to Waubeno, and with the first warm winds he and the Indian boy set out
+for Kaskaskia by the way of the Illinois to the Mississippi, and by the
+Mississippi to the Kaskaskia.
+
+It was a long journey. Jasper stopped often at the Indian encampments
+and the new settlements. Waubeno was a faithful friend, and he came to
+love him for true-heartedness, sympathy, and native worth of soul. He
+often tried to teach him by stories, but as often as he said, "Now,
+Waubeno, we will talk," he would say, "Tell me the one with broken
+shell"--meaning the story. There was some meaning behind this story of
+the turtle with the broken shell that had completely won the heart of
+Waubeno. The boy Abraham Lincoln was his hero. Again and again, after he
+had listened to the simple narrative, he asked:
+
+"Is the story boy alive?"
+
+"Yes, Waubeno."
+
+"And we will meet him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That is good. I feel for him here," and he would lay his hand on his
+heart. "I love the story boy."
+
+They traveled slowly. After a long journey down the Illinois, the
+Mississippi rolled before them in the full tides of early spring. They
+passed St. Louis, and one late April evening found them before the once
+royal town of Kaskaskia.
+
+The bell was ringing as they landed, the bell that had been cast in fair
+Rochelle, and that was the first bell to ring between the Alleghanies
+and the Mississippi. Most of the black-robed missionaries were gone, as
+had the high-born French officers, with their horses, sabers, and
+banner-plumes, who once sought treasure and fame in this grand town of
+the Mississippi Valley. The Bourbon lilies had fallen from old Fort
+Chartres a generation ago, and the British cross had come down, and
+to-day all the houses, new and old, were decked with the stars and
+stripes. It was not a holiday. What did it mean?
+
+Jasper and Waubeno entered the old French town, and gazed at the brick
+buildings, the antique roofs, the high dormer windows, and the faded
+houses of by-gone priest and nun. The tavern was covered with flags,
+French and American, as were the grand house of William Morrison and the
+beautiful Edgar mansion. The house once occupied by the French
+commandant was wrapped in the national colors. It had been the first
+State House of Illinois. A hundred years before--just one hundred
+years--Kaskaskia Commons had received its grand name from his most
+Christian Majesty Louis XV, and it then seemed likely to become the
+capital of the French mid-continent empire in the New World. The Jesuits
+flocked here, zealous for the conversion of the Indian races. Here came
+men of rank and military glory, and Fort Chartres rose near it, grand
+and powerful as if to awe the world. But there was a foe in the fort of
+the French heart, and the boundless empire faded, and the old French
+town went to the American pioneer, and the fort became a ruin, like
+Louisburg at Cape Breton.
+
+As Jasper and Waubeno passed along the broad streets they noticed that
+the town was filled with country people, and that there were Indians
+among them.
+
+One of these Indians approached Waubeno, and said:
+
+"She--yonder--see--Mary Panisciowa--daughter of the Great Chief--Mary
+Panisciowa."
+
+Waubeno followed with his eye the daughter of the Chief of the Six
+Nations. He went forward with the crowd and came to the house that she
+was making her home, and asked to meet her. Jasper had followed him.
+
+They turned aside from the street, which was full of excited
+people--excited Jasper knew not why. The door of the house where Mary
+Panisciowa was visiting stood open, and they were asked to enter.
+
+She looked a queen, yet she had the graces of the English and French
+people. She was a most accomplished woman. She spoke both English and
+French readily, her education having been conducted by an American agent
+to whom she had been commended by her father.
+
+"This is good news," she said.
+
+"What?" said Jasper. "Good news comes from God. Yet all events are news
+from heaven. The people seem greatly exercised. What has happened?"
+
+"Lafayette, the great Lafayette--have you not heard?--the marquis--he is
+on his way to Kaskaskia, and that is why I am here. My father fought
+under him, and the general sent him a letter thanking him for his
+services in the American cause. It was written forty years ago. I have
+brought it. I hope to meet him. Would you like to see it?--a letter from
+the great Lafayette."
+
+Mary Panisciowa took from her bosom a faded letter, and said:
+
+"My father fought for the new people, and I have taken up their religion
+and customs. I suppose that you have done the same," she said to
+Waubeno.
+
+"No; that can not be, for me."
+
+"Why? I supposed that you were a Christian, as you travel with the
+Tunker."
+
+"Mary Panisciowa knows how my father died. I am his son. I swore to be
+true to his name. The Tunker says that I must forswear myself to become
+a Christian. That I shall never do. I respect the teachings of your new
+religion, and I love the Tunker and shall always be true to him, but I
+shall be true to the memory of my father. Mary Panisciowa, think how he
+died, and of the men who killed him. They claimed to be Christians.
+Think of that! I am not a Christian. Mary Panisciowa, there is a spot
+that burns in my heart. I do not dissemble. I do not deceive. But that
+fire will burn there till I have kept my vow, and I shall do it."
+
+"Waubeno," said the woman, "listen to better counsels. Revenge only
+spreads the fires of evil. Forgiveness quenches them.--That is a noble
+letter," she said to Jasper.
+
+"Yes, a noble letter, and the marquis is an apostle of human liberty, a
+friend of all men everywhere. What brings him here?"
+
+"The old French and new English families. His visit is unexpected. The
+people can not receive him as they ought to, but he is to dine at the
+tavern, and there are to be two grand receptions at the great houses,
+one at Mr. Edgar's. I wish I could see him and show him this letter. I
+shall try. But they have not invited me. They are proud people, and they
+will not invite me; but I shall try to see him. It would be the happiest
+hour of my life if I could take the hand of the great Lafayette."
+
+Mary Panisciowa was thrilled with her desire to meet General Lafayette.
+
+Cannons boomed, drums and fifes played, and all the people hurried
+toward the landing. The marquis came in the steamer Natchez from St.
+Louis. When Mary Panisciowa heard the old bell ringing she knew that the
+marquis was coming, and she hid the faded old letter in her bosom and
+wept. She sent a messenger to the tavern, who asked Lafayette if he
+would meet the daughter of Panisciowa, and receive a message from her.
+
+Just at night she looked out of the door, and saw an officer in uniform
+and a party of her own people coming toward the house. The officer
+appeared before the door, touched his head and bowed, and said:
+
+"Mary Panisciowa, I am told."
+
+"My father was Panisciowa."
+
+"He fought under General Lafayette?"
+
+"Yes, he fought under Lafayette, and I have a letter from the general
+here, written to him more than forty years ago. Will you read it?"
+
+The officer took the letter, read it, and said:
+
+"You should meet the general."
+
+"You are very kind, sir. I want to meet him; but how? There is to be a
+reception at the Morrisons, but I am not invited. The Governor is to be
+there. But they would not invite me."
+
+"Come to the reception at the Morrisons. I will be responsible. The
+marquis will welcome you. He is a gentleman. To say that a man is a
+gentleman, is to cover all right conduct. Bring your letter, and he will
+receive you. I will speak to Governor Coles about you. You will come?"
+
+"May my friend Waubeno come with me? I am the daughter of a chief, and
+he is the son of a warrior. It would be befitting that we should come
+together. I wish that he might see the great Lafayette."
+
+"As you like," said the officer, hurrying away with uncovered head.
+
+Mary Panisciowa prepared to go to the grand reception. Early in the
+evening she and Waubeno, followed by Jasper, came up to the Morrison
+mansion, where a kind of court reception was to be held.
+
+The streets were full of people. The houses were everywhere illuminated,
+and people were hurrying to and fro, or listening to the music in the
+hall.
+
+Lafayette was now nearly threescore and ten years of age, the beloved
+hero of France and America, and the leader of human liberty in all
+lands. He had left Havre on July 12th, 1824, and had arrived in New York
+on the 15th of August. He was accompanied by his son, George Washington
+Lafayette, and his private secretary, M. Levasseur. His passage through
+the country had been a triumphal procession, under continuous arches of
+flags, evergreens, and flowers, bearing the words, "Welcome, Lafayette."
+Forty years had passed since he was last in America. The thirteen States
+had become twenty-four. He had visited Joseph Bonaparte, the grave of
+Washington, and the battle-field of Yorktown. His reception in the South
+had been an outpouring of hearts. And now he had turned aside from the
+great Mississippi to see Kaskaskia, the romantic town of the vanished
+French empire of the Mississippi.
+
+Mary and Waubeno waited outside of the door. The Indian woman listened
+for a time to the gay music, and watched the bright uniforms as they
+passed to and fro under the glittering astrals. At last an American
+officer came down the steps, lifted his hat, and said to the two Indians
+and to Jasper:
+
+"Follow me."
+
+Lafayette had already received the public men of the place. Airy music
+arose, and the officials and their wives and guests were going through
+the form of the old court minuet.
+
+The music of Mozart's Don Giovanni minuet has been heard in a thousand
+halls of state and at the festivals of many lands. We may imagine the
+charm that such music had here, in this oaken room of the forest and
+prairie. At the head of the plumed ladies and men in glittering uniforms
+stood the Marquis of France, whom the world delighted to honor, and led
+the stately obeisances to the picturesque movement of the music under
+the flags and astrals. A remnant of the old romantic French families
+were there, soldiers of the Revolution, the leaders of the new order of
+American life, Governor Coles and his officers, and rich traders of St.
+Louis. As the music swayed these stately forms backward and forward with
+the fascinating poetry of motion that can hardly be called a dance, the
+two Indian faces caught the spirit of the scene. Waubeno had never heard
+the music of the minuet before, and the strains entranced him as they
+rose and fell.
+
+[Illustration: Minuet from Don Giovanni.
+
+BY MOZART. ARR. BY CARL ERICH.
+
+Published by the permission of Arthur P. Schmidt.
+
+Copyright, 1880, by Carl Pruefer.]
+
+After the minuet, Lafayette and Governor Coles received the
+towns-people, and among the first to be presented to the marquis was
+Mary Panisciowa.
+
+She bowed modestly, and told him her simple tale. The marquis listened
+at first with courtly interest, then with profound emotion. She drew
+from her bosom the letter that he had written to her father, the chief.
+His own writing brought before him the scenes of almost a half-century
+gone, the struggle for liberty in the new land to which he had given his
+young soul. He remembered the old chief, and the forest scenes of those
+heroic years; Washington, and the generals he had loved, most of whom
+were gone, arose again. His heart filled with emotion, and he said:
+
+"Nothing in my visit here has affected me so much as this. I thank you
+for seeking me. I welcome you with all my heart. Let me spend as much
+time as I may in your company. Your father was a hero, and your presence
+fills my heart with no common pleasure and delight. Stay with me."
+
+The marquis welcomed Waubeno cordially, and expressed his pleasure at
+meeting him here. At the romantic festival no people were more warmly
+met than the chief's daughter and her escort.
+
+"The French have always been true to the Indians," said Waubeno, on
+leaving the general, "and the Indians have been as true to the French."
+
+"Never did rulers have better subjects," said the general.
+
+"Never did subjects have better rulers," said Waubeno, almost repeating
+the scene of Dick Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London, by virtue of
+his wonderful cat, to King Henry.
+
+The Indians withdrew amid the gay strains of national music, the stately
+minuet haunting Waubeno and ringing in his ears.
+
+He tried to hum the rhythms of the beautiful air of the courts. Jasper
+saw how the music had affected him, and that he was happy and
+susceptible, and said:
+
+"Waubeno, you have met a man to-night who would forget his own position
+and pleasure to do honor to the Indian girl."
+
+"Yes, I am sure of that."
+
+"You are your best self to-night--in your best mood; the music has
+awakened your better soul. You remember your promise?"
+
+"Yes, but, Brother Jasper--"
+
+"What, Waubeno?"
+
+"Lafayette is a _Frenchman_, and--a gentleman. The Indians and French do
+not spill each other's blood. Why?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+WAUBENO AND YOUNG LINCOLN.
+
+
+One leafy afternoon in May, Jasper and Waubeno came to Aunt Olive's, at
+Pigeon Creek. Southern Indiana is a glory of sunshine and flowers at
+this season of the year, and their journey had been a very pleasant one.
+
+They had met emigrants on the Ohio, and had seen the white sail of the
+prairie schooner in all of the forest ways.
+
+"The world seems moving to the west," said Jasper, "as in the white
+Indian's dream. There is need of my work more and more. Every child that
+I can teach to read will make better this new empire that is being
+sifted out of the lands. Every school that I can found is likely to
+become a college, and I am glad to be a wanderer in the wilderness for
+the sake of my fellow-men."
+
+In the open door, under the leafing vines, stood Aunt Indiana, in cap,
+wig, and spectacles. She arched her elbow over all to shade her eyes.
+
+"The old Tunker, as I live, come again, and brought his Indian boy with
+him!" said she. "Well, you are welcome to Pigeon Creek. You left a sight
+of good thoughts here when you were here before. You're a good pitcher,
+if you are a little cracked, with the handle all one side. Come in, and
+welcome. Take a chair and sit down--
+
+    ''Tis a long time since I see you.
+    How does your wife and children do?'
+
+as the poet sings."
+
+"I am well, and am glad to be toiling for the bread that does not fail
+in the wilderness. How are the people of Pigeon Creek--how are my good
+friends the Lincolns?"
+
+"The Linkens? Well, Tom Linken makes out to hold together after a
+fashion--all dreams and expectations. 'The thing that hath been is,' the
+Scriptur' says, and Thomas Linken _is_--just as he always was, and
+always will be to the end of the chapter. He's got to the p'int after
+which there is no more to be told, long ago. The life of such as he
+repeats itself over and over, like a buzzin' spinnin'-wheel. And _Miss_
+Linken, she is as patient as ever; 'tis her mission just to be patient
+with old Tom."
+
+"And Abraham?"
+
+"That boy Abe--the one that we prophesied about! Well, elder, I do hate
+to say, 'cause it makes you out to be no prophet, and you mean well,
+goin' about tryin' to get a little larnin' into the skulls of the people
+in this new country; but that boy promises pretty slim, though I ain't
+nothin' to say agin' him. In the first place, he's grown up to be a
+giant, all legs and ears, mouth and eyes. Why, he is the tallest young
+man in this part of Indiana!
+
+"Then, his head's off. He goes about readin' books, just as he did when
+you were here last--this book, and that book, and the other book; and
+then he all runs to talk, which some folks takes for wisdom. He tells
+stories that makes everybody laugh, and he seems very chipper and happy,
+but they do say that he has melancholy spells, and is all down in the
+mouth at times. But he's good-hearted, and speaks the truth, and helps
+poor folks, and there's many a wuss one than Abraham Linken now. They
+didn't invite him to the great weddin' of the Grigsbys, cos he's so
+homely, and hadn't anythin' to wear but leather breeches, and they only
+come down a little below his knees. Queer-lookin' he'd 'a' been to a
+weddin'!
+
+"He felt orful bad at not bein' invited, and made some poetry about 'em.
+When I feel poetic I talk prose, and give people as good as they send. I
+don't write no poetry.
+
+"You are welcome to stay here, elder. You needn't go to the Linkens'. I
+have a prophet's chamber in my house--though you ain't a prophet--and
+you can always sleep there, and your Indian boy can lay down in the
+kitchen; and I can cook, elder--now you know that--and I won't ask ye to
+cobble; your time is too valuable for that."
+
+Jasper, who was not greatly influenced by Aunt Indiana's unfavorable
+views of her poor neighbor, went to see Thomas Lincoln. Waubeno went
+with him. Here the young Indian met with a hearty greeting from both Mr.
+and Mrs. Lincoln.
+
+"I am glad that you have come again," said poor Mrs. Lincoln to Jasper.
+"You comforted me and encouraged me when you were here last. I want to
+talk with you. Abe has all grown up, and wants to make a new start in
+life; and I wish to see him started right. There's so much in gettin'
+started right; a right start is all the way, sometimes. We don't travel
+twice over the same years. I want you to talk with him. You have seen
+this world, and we haven't, but you kind o' brought the world to us when
+you were here last. Elder, you don't know how much good you are doin'."
+
+"Where is Abraham?" asked Jasper.
+
+"He's gone to the store for the evenin'. He's been keepin' store for
+Jones, in Gentryville, and he spends his evenin's there. There ain't
+many places to go to around here, and Abe he's turned the store into a
+kind of debatin' club. He speaks pieces there. There's goin' to be a
+debate there to-night. He's great on debatin'. I do hope you'll go. The
+subject of the debate to-night is, 'Which has the greater cause for
+complaint, the negro or the Indian?'"
+
+"I'm goin' over to the store to-night myself, elder," said Thomas
+Lincoln. "You must go along with me and hear Abraham talk, and then come
+back and spend the night here. The old woman has been hopin' that you
+would come. It pleased her mightily, what you said good about Abraham
+when you was here last. She sets her eyes by Abraham, and he does by
+her. Abraham and I don't get along none too well. The fact is, he all
+runs to books, and is kind o' queer. He takes after his mother's
+folks--they all had houses in the air, and lived in 'em. Abe might make
+somethin'; there's somethin' in him, if larnin' don't spile him. I have
+to warn him against larnin' all the time, but it all goes agin the
+grain, and I declare sometimes I do get all out of patience, and clean
+discouraged. Why, elder, he even takes a book out when he goes to shuck
+corn, and he composes poetry on the wooden shovel, and planes it out
+with my plane, and wears the shovel all up. There, now, look
+there!--could you stand it?"
+
+Thomas Lincoln took up a large wooden fire-shovel, and held it before
+the eyes of the Tunker. On the great bowl of the shovel were penned some
+lines in coal.
+
+"What does that read, elder?--I can't tell. I ain't got no larnin' to
+spare. What does it read, elder?"
+
+Jasper scanned the writing on the surface of the back of the shovel. The
+writing was clear and plain. Mrs. Lincoln came and looked over his
+shoulder.
+
+"Writ it himself, likely as not," said she. "Abe writes poetry; he can't
+help it sometimes--it's a gift. Read it, elder."
+
+Jasper read slowly:
+
+    "'Time! what an empty vapor 'tis!
+      And days, how swift they are!
+    Swift as an arrow speed our lives,
+      Swift as the shooting star.
+    The present moment--'"
+
+"He didn't finish it, did he, elder? I think it is real pooty--don't
+you?"
+
+Mrs. Lincoln turned her broad, earnest face toward the Tunker.
+
+"Real pooty, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes," said Jasper. "He'll be likely to do some great work in life, and
+leave it unfinished. It comes to me so."
+
+[Illustration: A QUEER PLACE TO WRITE POETRY.]
+
+"Don't say so, elder. His father don't praise him much, but he's real
+good to me, and I hope no evil will ever happen to him. I set lots of
+store by Abe. I don't know any difference between him and my own son.
+His poor, dead mother, that lies out there all alone under the trees,
+knows that I have done by him as if he were my own. You know, the
+guardian angels of children see the face of the Father, and I kind o'
+think that she is his guardian; and if she is, now, I hain't anything to
+reflect upon."
+
+"Only you're spilin' him--that's all," said Mr. Lincoln. "Some women are
+so good that they are not good for anything, and between me and Sarah
+and his poor, dead mother, Abraham has never had the discipline that he
+ought to have had. But Andrew Crawford, the schoolmaster, and Josiah
+Crawford, the farmer, did their duty by him. Come, elder, let us go up
+to Jones's store, and talk politics a while. Jones, he's a Jackson man.
+He sets great store by Abe, and thinks, like you and Sarah, that the boy
+will make somethin' some day. Well, I hope he will--can't tell."
+
+Mr. Jones's store was the popular resort of Gentryville. Says one of the
+old pioneers, Dougherty: "Lincoln drove a team, and sold goods for
+Jones. Jones told me that Lincoln read all of his books, and I remember
+the History of the United States as one. Jones afterward said to me that
+Lincoln would make a great man one of these days--had said so long
+before to other people, and so as far back as 1828 and 1829."
+
+The store was full of men and boys when Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and
+Waubeno arrived. Dennis Hanks was there, and the Grigsbys. Josiah
+Crawford, who had made Abraham pull fodder for three days for allowing a
+book that he had lent him to get wet one rainy night, was seated on a
+barrel. His nose was very long, and he had a high forehead, and wide
+look across the forehead. He looked very wise and thought himself a
+Solomon.
+
+The men and boys all seemed to be glad to see the Tunker, and they
+greeted Waubeno kindly, though curiously, and plied him with civil
+questions about Black Hawk.
+
+There was to be a debate that evening, and Mr. Jones called the men to
+order, and each one mounted a barrel and lit his pipe--or all except
+Abraham and Waubeno, who did not smoke, but who stood near each other,
+almost side by side.
+
+"Abraham," said Thomas Lincoln, "you'll have to argue the p'int for the
+Indian well to-night, or--there he is!"--pointing to Waubeno--"he'll
+answer ye."
+
+The debate went slowly at first, then grew exciting. When Abraham
+Lincoln's turn came to speak, all the store grew still. The subject of
+the debate was, as Thomas Lincoln had said: "Which has the greater cause
+for complaint, the Indian or the negro?"
+
+Abraham Lincoln claimed the Indian was more wronged than the negro, and
+his homely face glowed as with a strange fire as he pictured the red
+man's wrongs. He towered above the men like a giant, and moved his arms
+as though they possessed some invisible power.
+
+Waubeno fixed his eyes on him, and felt the force and thrust of his
+every word.
+
+"If I were a negro," said Lincoln, "I would hope that some redeemer and
+deliverer would arise, like Moses of old. But if I were an Indian, what
+would I have to hope for, if I fell under the avarice of the white man?
+Let the past answer that."
+
+"Let the heavens answer that," said Waubeno, "or let their gates be ever
+closed."
+
+Thomas Lincoln started.
+
+"Waubeno, you have come from Black Hawk. He slays men, and we know him.
+An Indian killed my father."
+
+"An Indian killed your father--and what did you do?"
+
+"My brother Mordecai avenged his death, and caused many Indians to bite
+the dust."
+
+"White brother," said Waubeno, "a white man killed my father. What ought
+_I_ to do?"
+
+The men held their pipes in silence.
+
+"My father was an innocent man," said the pioneer.
+
+"My father was an honorable warrior," said Waubeno, "and defended his
+own rights--rights as dear to him as your father's, or yours, or mine.
+What ought _I_ to do?" He turned to young Lincoln. "What would _you_
+do?"
+
+"I hold that in all things right is might, and I defend the right of an
+Indian as I would the rights of a white man, but I never would shed any
+man's blood for avarice or malice. Waubeno, I would defend you in a
+cause of right against the world. I would rather have the approval of
+Heaven than the praise of all mankind."
+
+"Brother," said Waubeno, "I believe that you speak true, but I do not
+know. If I only knew that you spoke true, I would not do as Mordecai
+did. I would forgive the white man."
+
+The candles smoked, and the men talked long into the night. At last
+Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and Waubeno went home, where Mrs. Lincoln was
+awaiting them. They expected Abraham to follow them. They sat up that
+night late, and talked about the prairie country, and the prospects of
+the emigrants to Illinois.
+
+"Now you had better go to rest," said Sarah Lincoln. "I will sit up
+until Abe comes. I do not see why he is so late to-night, when the
+Tunker is here, too, and the Indian boy."
+
+"He's with the Grigsbys, I guess," said Mr. Lincoln.
+
+The two men went to their beds, and Waubeno laid down on a mat on the
+floor. Hour after hour passed, and Mrs. Lincoln went again and again to
+the door and listened, but Abraham did not return. It was midnight when
+she laid down, but even then it was to listen, and not to sleep.
+
+In the morning Abraham returned. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks
+were white.
+
+"Get me some coffee, mother," he said. "I have not slept a wink
+to-night."
+
+"Why, where have you been, Abraham?"
+
+"Watchin'--watchin' with a frozen drunken man. I found him on the road,
+and carried him to Dennis's on my back. He seemed to be dead, but I
+rubbed him all night long, and he breathed again."
+
+"Why did you not get some one to help you?"
+
+"The boys all left me. They said that old Holmes was not worth revivin',
+even if he had any life left in him; that it would be better for himself
+and everybody if he were left to perish."
+
+"Holmes! Did you carry that man on your back, Abraham?"
+
+"Yes. I could not leave him by the road. He is a human being, and I did
+by him as I would have him do by me if I lost my moral senses. They told
+me to leave him to his fate, but I couldn't, mother. I couldn't."
+
+Waubeno gazed on the young giant as he drank his coffee, and sank into a
+deep slumber on a mat in the room. He watched him as he slept.
+
+When he woke, Jasper said to him:
+
+"Abraham, I wish you to know this Indian boy. I think there is a native
+nobility in him. Do you remember Johnnie Kongapod's story, at which the
+people all used to laugh?"
+
+"Yes, elder."
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, I can believe that story was true. I have faith in
+men. You do. Your faith will make you great."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THE DEBATING SCHOOL.
+
+
+There were some queer people in every town and community of the new
+West, and these were usually active at the winter debating school. These
+schools of the people for the discussion of life, politics, literature,
+were, on the whole, excellent influences; they developed what was
+original in the thought and character of a place, and stimulated reading
+and study. If a man was a theorist, he could here find a voice for his
+opinions; and if he were a genius, he could here uncage his gifts and
+find recognition. Nearly all of the early clergymen, lawyers,
+congressmen, and leaders of the people of early Indiana and Illinois
+were somehow developed and educated in these so-called debating schools.
+
+Among the odd people sure to be found in such rural assemblies were the
+man with visionary schemes for railroads, canals, and internal
+improvements, the sanguine inventor, the noisy free-thinker, the
+benevolent Tunker, the man who could preach without notes by "direct
+inspiration," the man who thought that the world was about to come to an
+end, and the patriot who pictured the American eagle as a bird of fate
+and divinity. The early pioneer preacher learned to talk in public in
+the debating school. The young lawyer here made his first pleas.
+
+The frequent debates in Jones's store led to the formation of a debating
+school in Gentryville and Pigeon Creek. In this society young Abraham
+Lincoln was the leader, and his cousin Dennis Hanks and his uncle John
+were prominent disputants. The story-telling blacksmith furnished much
+of the humor, and Josiah Crawford, or "Blue-Nose Crawford," as he was
+called, was regarded as the man of hard sense on such occasions as
+require a Solomon, or a Daniel, or a Portia, and he was very proud to be
+so regarded.
+
+There was a revival of interest in the cause of temperance in the
+country at this time, and the noble conduct of Abraham Lincoln, in
+carrying to his cousin Dennis's the poor drunkard whom he had found in
+the highway on the chilly night after the debate at Jones's store, may
+have led to a plan for a great debate on the subject of the pledge,
+which was appointed to take place in the log school-house at Pigeon
+Creek. The plan was no more than spoken of at the store than it began to
+excite general attention.
+
+"We must debate this subject of the temperance pledge," said Thomas
+Lincoln, "and get the public sense. New times are at hand. On general
+principles, I'm a temperance man; and if nobody drank once, then nobody
+would drink twice, and the world would all go dry. But there's the
+corn-huskin's, and the hoe-down, and the mowin' times, and the
+hog-killin's, and the barn-raisin's. It is only natural that men should
+wet their whistles at such times as these. In the old Scriptur' times
+people who wanted to get great spiritual power abstained from strong
+drink; but you can't expect no such people as those down here at Pigeon
+Creek."
+
+"But Abe is a temperancer, and I want the debate to come off in good
+shape, so that all you uns can hear what he has to say."
+
+It was decided by the leading debaters that the subject for the debate
+should be, "Ought temperance people to sign the temperance pledge?" and
+that Abraham Lincoln should sustain the affirmative view of the
+question.
+
+The success of young Lincoln as a debater had greatly troubled Aunt
+Indiana.
+
+"It's all like the rattlin' of a pea-pod in the blasts o' ortum," she
+said. "It don't signify anything. He just rains words upon ye, and makes
+ye laugh, and the first thing ye know he's got ye. Beware--beware! his
+words are just like stool-pigeons, what brings you down to get shot.
+It's amazin' what a curi'us gift of talk that boy has!"
+
+When she heard of the plan of the debate, and the part assigned to young
+Lincoln, she said:
+
+"'Twill be a great night for Abe, unless I hinder it. I'm agin the
+temperance pledge. Stands to reason that a man's no right to sign away
+his liberty. And I'm agin Abe Linkern, because he's too smart for
+anythin', and lives up in the air like a kite; and outthinks other
+people, because he sits round readin' and turkey-dreamin' when he ought
+to be at work. I shall work agin him."
+
+And she did. She first consulted upon the subject with Josiah
+Crawford--"the Esquire," as she called him--and he promised to give the
+negative of the question all the weight of his ability.
+
+There was a young man in Gentryville named John Short, who thought that
+he had had a call to preach, and who often came to Aunt Indiana for
+theological instruction.
+
+"Don't run round the fields readin' books, like Abraham Linkern," she
+warned him. "He'll never amount to a hill o' beans. The true way to
+become a preacher is to go into the desk, and open the Bible, and put
+yer fingers on the first passage that you come to, and then open yer
+mouth, and the Lord will fill it. I do not believe in edicated
+ministers. They trust in chariots and horses. Go right from the plow to
+the pulpit, and the heavens will help ye."
+
+John Short thought Aunt Indiana's advice sound, and he resolved to
+follow it. He once made an appointment to preach after this unprepared
+manner in the school-house. He could not read very well. He had once
+read at school, "And he smote the Hittite that he died" "And he smote
+the Hi-ti-ti-ty, that he did," and he opened the Bible at random for a
+Scripture lesson on this trying occasion. His eye fell upon the hard
+chapters in Chronicles beginning "Adam, Sheth, Enoch." He succeeded very
+well in the reading until he came to the generations of Japheth and the
+sons of Gomer, which were mountains too difficult to pass. He lifted his
+eyes and said, "And so it goes on to the end of the chapter, without
+regard to particulars."
+
+"That chapter was given me to try me," he said, as a kind of commentary,
+"and, my friends, I have been equal to it. And now you shall hear me
+preach, and after that we'll take up a contribution for the new
+meetin'-house."
+
+The sermon was a short one, and began amid much mental confusion. "A
+certain man," he began, "went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell
+among thieves; and the thieves sprang up and choked him; and he said,
+'Who is my neighbor?' You all know who your neighbors are, O my
+friends." Here followed a long pause. He added:
+
+"Always be good to your neighbors. And now we will pass around the
+contribution-box, and after that we'll _all_ talk."
+
+This beginning of his work as a speaker did not look promising, but he
+had conducted "a meetin'," and that fact made John Short a shining light
+in Aunt Indiana's eyes. To this young man the good woman went for a
+champion of her ideas in the great debate.
+
+But, notwithstanding her theory, she proceeded to instruct him as to
+what he should say on the occasion.
+
+"Say to 'em, John, that he who comes to ye with a temperance pledge
+insults yer character. It is like askin' ye to promise not to become a
+jackass; and what would ye think of a man who would ask ye to sign a
+paper like that? or to sign the Ten Commandments? or to promise that
+ye'd never lie any _more_? It's one's duty to maintain one's dignity of
+character, and, John, I want ye to open yer mouth in defense of the
+rights of liberty on the occasion; and do yer duty, and bring down the
+Philistine with a pebble-stun, and 'twill be a glorious night for Pigeon
+Creek."
+
+The views of Aunt Olive Eastman on preaching without preparation and on
+temperance were common at this time in Indiana and Illinois. By not
+understanding a special direction of our Lord to his disciples as to
+what they should do in times of persecution, many of the pioneer
+exhorters used to speak from the text on which their eyes first rested
+on opening the Bible. They seemed to think that this mental field needed
+no planting or culture--no training like Paul's in the desert of Arabia,
+and that the pulpit stood outside of the universal law. The moral
+education of the pledge of Father Matthew was just beginning to excite
+attention. Strange as it may seem, the thoughts and plans of the Irish
+apostle of temperance and founder of the Order of St. Vincent de Paul
+seemed to have come to Abraham Lincoln in his early days much as
+original inspiration. His first public speech was on this subject. It
+was made in Springfield, Illinois, in 1842, and advocated the plan which
+Father Matthew was then originating in Ireland, the education of the
+public conscience by the moral force of the temperance pledge.
+
+It was a lengthening autumn evening when the debate took place in the
+school-house in the timber. The full moon rose like a disk of gold as
+the sun sank in clouds of crimson fire, and the light of the day became
+a mellowed splendor during half of the night. The corn-fields in the
+clearings rose like armies, bearing food on every hand. Flocks of birds
+darkened the sunset air, and little animals of the woods ran to and fro
+amid the crisp and fallen leaves. The air was vital with the coolness
+that brings the frost and causes the trees to unclasp their countless
+shells, barks, and burrs, and let the ripe nuts fall.
+
+The school-room filled with earnest faces early in the evening. The
+people came over from Gentryville, among them Mr. Gentry himself and Mr.
+Jones the store-keeper. Women brought tallow dips for lights, and
+curious candlesticks and snuffers.
+
+Aunt Indiana and Josiah Crawford came together, an imposing-looking
+couple, who brought with them the air of special sense and wisdom. Aunt
+Indiana wore a bonnet of enormous proportions, which distinguished her
+from the other women, who wore hoods. She brought in her hand a brass
+candlestick, which the children somehow associated with the ancient
+Scripture figures, and which looked as though it might have belonged to
+the temples of old. She was tall and stately, and the low room was too
+short for her soaring bonnet, but she bent her head, and sat down near
+Josiah Crawford, and set the candle in the shining candlestick, and cast
+a glance of conscious superiority over the motley company.
+
+The moderator rapped for order and stated the question for debate, and
+made some inspiring remarks about "parliamentary" rules. John Short
+opened the debate with a plea for independence of character, and
+self-respect and personal liberty.
+
+"What would you think," he asked, "of a man who would come to you _in
+the night_ and ask you to sign a paper not to lie any more? What? You
+would think that he thought you had been lying. Would you sign that
+paper? No! You would call out the dogs of retribution, and take down
+your father's sword, and you would uplift your foot into the indignant
+air, and protect your family name and honor. Who would be called a liar,
+in a cowardly way like that? And who would be called a drunkard, by
+being asked to sign the paper of a tee-totaler? Who?"
+
+Here John Short paused. He presently said:
+
+"Hoo?"--which sounded in the breathless silence like the inquiries of
+an owl. But his ideas had all taken wings again and left him, as on the
+occasion when he attempted to preach without notes or preparation.
+
+Aunt Indiana looked distressed. She leaned over toward Josiah Crawford,
+and said:
+
+"Say somethin'."
+
+But Josiah hesitated. Then, to the great amusement of all, Aunt Indiana
+rose to the ceiling, bent her generously bonneted head, stretched forth
+her arm, and said:
+
+"He is quite right--quite right, Josiah. Is he not, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right," said Josiah.
+
+"People do not talk about what is continuous--what goes right along. Am
+I not right, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right! quite right!"
+
+"If a man tells me he is honest, he is not honest. If he tells me that
+he is pure, he isn't pure. If he were honest or pure he says nothing
+about it. Am I not right, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right! quite right!"
+
+"Nobody tells about his stomach unless it is out of order; and no one
+puts cotton into keyholes unless he himself is peeking through keyholes.
+Am I not right, Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right! quite right!"
+
+"And no one asks ye to sign a temperance pledge unless he's been a
+drunkard himself, or thinks ye are one, or likely to be. Ain't I right,
+Josiah?"
+
+"Quite right!"
+
+"The best way to support temperance is to live temperately and say
+nothin' about it. There, now! If I had held my peace, the stones would
+have cried out. Olive Eastman has spoken, and Josiah says that I am
+right, and I'm agin the temperance pledge, and there's nothin' more to
+be said about it."
+
+Aunt Indiana sat down amid much applause. Then Jasper rose, and showed
+that intemperance was a great evil, and that public sentiment should be
+educated against it.
+
+"This education should begin in childhood," he said, "in habits of
+self-respect and self-restraint. The child should be first instructed to
+say "No" to himself."
+
+He proceeded to argue for the temperance pledge from his point of view.
+
+"The world is educated by pledges," he said. "The patriot is kept in his
+line of march by the pledge; the business man makes a pledge when he
+signs a note; and the Christian takes pledges when he joins the Church.
+We should be willing to take any pledge that will make life better. If
+eating meat cause my brother to stumble and offend, then I will not eat
+meat. I will sacrifice myself always to that which will help the world
+and honor God. I am sorry to differ from the good woman who has spoken,
+but I am for the use of the pledge. I never drank strong drink, and this
+hand shall sign any pledge that will help a poor tempted brother by my
+example."
+
+Tall Abraham Lincoln arose.
+
+"There! he's goin' to speak--I knew he'd been preparin'," whispered Aunt
+Indiana to Josiah Crawford. "Wonder what he'll have to say. _You'll_
+have to answer him. He's just a regular Philistine, and goes stalkin'
+through the land, and turns people's heads; and he's just Tom Linkern's
+son, who is shiftless and poor, and I'm goin' agin him."
+
+The tall young man stood silent. The people were silent. Aunt Indiana
+gave her puncheon seat a push to break the force of that silence, and
+whispered to Josiah:
+
+"There! they are all ears. I told ye 'twould be so. You must answer
+him."
+
+Young Lincoln spoke slowly, and after this manner:
+
+"My friends: When you pledge yourself to enforce a principle, you
+identify yourself with that principle, and give it power."
+
+There was a silence. Then the people filled the little room with
+applause. He continued most impressively in the words of grand
+oration:[A]
+
+[Footnote A: We use here some of the exact sentences which young Lincoln
+employed on a similar occasion at Springfield.]
+
+"The universal sense of mankind on any subject is an argument, or at
+least an influence, not easily overcome. The success of the argument in
+favor of the existence of an over-ruling Providence mainly depends upon
+that sense; and men ought not, in justice, to be denounced for yielding
+to it in any case, or giving it up slowly, especially when they are
+backed by interest, fixed habits, or burning appetites.
+
+"If it be true that those who have suffered by intemperance personally
+and have reformed are the most powerful and efficient instruments to
+push the reformation to ultimate success, it does not follow that those
+who have not suffered have no part left them to perform. Whether or not
+the world would be vastly benefited by a total and final banishment from
+it of all intoxicating drinks seems to me not now an open question.
+Three fourths of mankind confess the affirmative with their tongues;
+and, I believe, all the rest acknowledge it in their hearts.
+
+"But it is said by some, that men will think and act for themselves;
+that none will disuse spirits or anything else because his neighbors do;
+and that moral influence is not that powerful engine contended for. Let
+us examine this. Let me ask the man who could maintain this position
+most stiffly, what compensation he will accept to go to church some
+Sunday and sit during the sermon with his wife's bonnet upon his head?
+Not a trifle, I'll venture. And why not? There would be nothing
+irreligious in it, nothing immoral, nothing uncomfortable--then why not?
+Is it not because there would be something egregiously unfashionable in
+it? Then, it is the influence of fashion. And what is the influence of
+fashion but the influence that other people's actions have on our own
+actions--the strong inclination each of us feels to do as we see all our
+neighbors do? Nor is the influence of fashion confined to any particular
+thing or class of things. It is just as strong on one subject as
+another. Let us make it as unfashionable to withhold our names from the
+temperance pledge as for husbands to wear their wives' bonnets to
+church, and instances will be just as rare in the one case as in the
+other."
+
+The people saw the moral point clearly. They felt the force of what the
+young orator had said. No one was willing to follow him.
+
+"Have you anything to say, Mr. Crawford?" said the moderator.
+
+Josiah merely shook his head.
+
+"He don't care to put on his wife's bonnet agin public opinion," said
+the blacksmith.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+THE SCHOOL THAT MADE LINCOLN PRESIDENT.
+
+
+While teaching and preaching in Decatur, Jasper heard of the new village
+of Salem, Illinois, on the Sangamon. He thought that the little town
+might offer him a chance to exert a new influence, and he resolved to
+visit it, and to preach and to teach there for a time should the people
+receive him kindly.
+
+The village was a small one, consisting of a community store, a
+school-house, a tavern, and a few houses; and Jasper knew of only one
+friend there at the time, a certain Mr. Duncan, who lived some two miles
+from the main street and the store.
+
+One afternoon, after a long journey over prairie land, Jasper came to
+Mrs. Duncan's door, and was met cordially by the good woman, and invited
+by her to make his home there for a time.
+
+The family gathered around the story-telling missionary after supper,
+and listened to his tales of the Rhine, all of which had some
+soul-lesson in his view, and enabled him to preach by parables. No
+stories better served this peculiar mission than Baron Fouque's, and
+this night he related Thiodolf, the Icelander.
+
+There came a rap at the door.
+
+"Who can that be?" said Mrs. Duncan in alarm.
+
+She opened the door, and a tall, dark-faced young man stood before her.
+
+"Why, Abe," said Mrs. Duncan, "what has brought you here at this late
+hour? I hope that nothing has happened!"
+
+"That bill of yours. You paid me two dollars and six cents, did you not?
+It was not right."
+
+"Isn't it? Well, I paid you all that you asked me, like an honest woman,
+so I am not to blame for any mistake. How much more do you want? If it
+isn't too much I'll pay it, for I think that you mean well."
+
+"More! That isn't it, Mrs. Duncan; you paid me six cents too much--you
+overpaid me. It was my fault."
+
+"Your fault!--and honest Abe Lincoln, you have walked two miles out of
+your way to pay me that six cents! Why didn't you wait until to-morrow?"
+
+"I couldn't."
+
+"Why, what is going to happen?"
+
+"I can't sleep with a thing like that on my conscience. Now I feel light
+and free again."
+
+"Come in, if it is late. We've got company--a Tunker--teaches, preaches,
+and works. May be you have met him before. He's been traveling down in
+Indiana and middle Illinois."
+
+Abraham came in, and Jasper rose to receive him.
+
+"Lincoln," said the wandering school-master, "it does my heart good to
+see you. I see that you have grown in body and in soul. What brought you
+here? I have been telling stories for hours. Sit down, and tell us
+about what has happened to you since we met last."
+
+The tall young man sat down.
+
+"He's clark down to Orfutt's store now," said Mrs. Duncan, "and his word
+is as good as gold, and his weights are as true as the scales of the
+Judgment Day. Why, one day he made a wrong weight of half a pound, and
+as soon as he found it out he shut up the shop and went shivering
+through the village with that half-pound of tea as though the powers of
+the air were after him. He's schooled his conscience so that he couldn't
+be dishonest if he were to try. I do believe a dishonorable act would
+wither him and drive him crazy."
+
+"Character, which is the habit of obedience to the universal law of
+right, is the highest school of life," said Jasper. "That is what I try
+to teach everywhere. But Abraham has heard me say that before. Where
+have you been since I saw you last? Tell me, what has been your school
+of life?"
+
+"I have been to New Orleans in a flat-boat. I went for Mr. Orfutt, who
+now keeps the store in this place. When I came back he gave me a place
+in his store here. I have been here ever since."
+
+"What did you see in New Orleans?"
+
+"Slavery--men sold in the market like cattle. Jasper, it made me long to
+have power--to control men and congresses and armies. If I only had the
+power, I would strike that institution hard. I said that to John Hanks,
+and he thought that slavery wasn't in any danger from anything that I
+would be likely to do. It don't look so, does it, elder? I have one
+vote, and I shall always cast that against wrong as long as I live. That
+is my right to do.
+
+"Elder, listen. I want to tell you what I saw there one day, in a
+slave-pen. I saw a handsome young girl, with white blood in her, brought
+forward by a slave-driver and handled and struck with a whip like a
+horse. I had heard of such things before, but it did not seem possible
+that they could be true. Then I saw the same girl sold at auction, and
+purchased by a man who carried the face of a brute. When she saw who had
+purchased her, she wrung her hands and cried, but she was helpless and
+hopeless; and I turned my face toward the sky and vowed to give my soul
+against a system like that. I'm a Free-Soiler in my heart, and I have
+faith that right is might, and that the right in this matter will one
+day prevail."
+
+Jasper remained with Mrs. Duncan for some days, and then formed a small
+school in the neighborhood, on the road to the town of Springfield,
+Illinois.
+
+While teaching here he could not but notice the growth of Orfutt's clerk
+in the confidence of all the people. In all the games, he was chosen
+umpire or referee; in most cases of dispute he was consulted, and his
+judgment was followed. Long before he became a lawyer, people were
+accustomed to say, in a matter of casuistry:
+
+"Take the case to Lincoln. He will give an opinion that will be fair."
+
+Amid this growing reputation for character, a test happened which showed
+how far this moral education and discipline had gone.
+
+A certain Henry McHenry, a popular man, had planned a horse-race, and
+applied to young Lincoln to go upon the racing stand as judge.
+
+"The people have confidence in you," he said to Lincoln.
+
+"I must not, and I will not do it," said Lincoln. "This custom of racing
+is wrong."
+
+The man showed him that he was under a certain obligation to act as
+judge on this occasion.
+
+"I will do it," he said; "but be it known to all that I will never
+appear at a horse-race again; and were I to become a lawyer, I would
+never accept a case into which I could not take an honest conscience, no
+matter what the inducements might be."
+
+There was a school-master in New Salem who knew more than the honest
+clerk had been able to learn. This man, whose name was Graham, could
+teach grammar.
+
+Abraham went to him one day, and said:
+
+"I have a notion to study grammar."
+
+"If you ever expect to enter public life, you should do so," said Mr.
+Graham. "Why not begin now and recite to me?"
+
+"Where shall I secure a book?" asked the student of this hard college of
+the wood.
+
+"There is a man named Vaner, who lives six miles from here, who has a
+grammar that I think he will be willing to sell."
+
+"If it be possible, I will secure it," said Lincoln.
+
+He made a long walk and purchased the book, and so made a
+grammar-school, a class of one, of his leisure moments in Orfutt's
+store.
+
+While he thus was studying grammar, the men whom he thirty or more years
+afterward made Cabinet ministers, generals, and diplomats were enjoying
+the easy experiences of schools, military academies, and colleges. Not
+one of them ever dreamed of such an experience of soul-building and
+mind-building as this; and some of them, had they met him then, would
+have felt that they could not have invited him to their homes. Orfutt's
+store and that one grammar were not the elms of Yale, or the campus of
+Harvard, or the great libraries or bowery streets of English Oxford or
+Cambridge. Yet here grew and developed a soul which was to tower above
+the age, and hold hands with the master spirits not only of the time but
+the ages.
+
+Years passed, and one day that sad-faced boy, who was always seeking to
+make others cheerful amid the clouds of his own gloom, stood before a
+grim council of war. He had determined to call into the field of arms
+five hundred thousand men.
+
+"If you do that thing," said a leader of the council, "you can not
+expect to be elected again President of the United States."
+
+The dark form rose to the height of a giant and poured forth his soul,
+and he said:
+
+"It is not necessary for me to be re-elected President of the United
+States, but it is necessary for the soldiers at the front to be
+re-enforced by five hundred thousand men, and I shall call for them; and
+if I go down under the act, I will go down like the Cumberland, with my
+colors flying."
+
+It required a high school of experience to train a soul to an utterance
+like that; and that fateful declaration began in those moral syllables
+that defended the rights of the animals of the woods, that said "No" to
+a horse-race, that refused from the first to accept an unjust case at
+law, and that from the first declared that right is might.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+THOMAS LINCOLN MOVES.
+
+
+Jasper taught school for a time in Boonesville, Indiana, and preached in
+the new settlements along the Wabash. While at Boonesville, he chanced
+to meet young Lincoln at the court house, under circumstances that
+filled his heart with pity.
+
+It was at a trial for murder that greatly excited the people. The lawyer
+for the defense was John Breckinridge, a man of great reputation and
+ability.
+
+Jasper saw young Lincoln among the people who had come to hear the great
+lawyer's plea, and said to him:
+
+"You have traveled a long distance to be here to-day."
+
+"Yes," said the tall young man. "There is nothing that leads one to seek
+information of the most intelligent people like a debating society. We,
+who used to meet to discuss questions at Jones's store, have formed a
+debating society, and I want to learn all I can of law for the sake of
+justice, and I owed it to myself and the society not to let this great
+occasion pass. I have walked fifteen miles to be here to-day. Did you
+know that father was thinking of moving to Illinois?"
+
+"No. Will you go with him?"
+
+"Yes, I shall go with him and see him well settled, and then I shall
+strike out for myself in the world. Father hasn't the faculty that
+mother has, you know. I can do some things better than he, and it is the
+duty of one member of the family to make up when he can for what another
+member lacks. We all have our own gifts, and should share them with
+others. I can split rails faster than father can, and do better work at
+house-building than he, and I am going with him and do for him the best
+I can at the start. I shall seek first for a roof for him, and then a
+place for myself."
+
+The great lawyer arrived. The doors of the court-house were open, and
+the people filled the court-room.
+
+The plea was a masterly one, eloquent and dramatic, and it thrilled the
+young soul of Lincoln. Full of the subject, the young debater sought Mr.
+Breckinridge after the court adjourned, and extended his long arm and
+hand to him.
+
+The orator was a proud man of an aristocratic family, and thought it the
+proper thing to maintain his dignity on all occasions. He looked at the
+boy haughtily, and refused to take his hand.
+
+"I thank you," said Lincoln. "I wish to express my gratitude."
+
+"Sir!"
+
+With a contemptuous look Breckinridge passed by, and the slight filled
+the heart of the young man with disappointment and mortification. The
+two met again in Washington in 1862. The backwoods boy whose hand the
+orator had refused to take had become President of the United States. He
+extended his hand, and it was accepted.
+
+"Sir," said the President, "that plea of yours in Boonesville, Indiana,
+was one of the best that I ever heard."
+
+"In Boonesville, Indiana?"
+
+How like a dream to the haughty lawyer the recollection must have been!
+Such things as this hurt Lincoln to the quick. He was so low-spirited at
+times in his early manhood that he did not dare to carry with him a
+pocket-knife, lest he should be overcome in some dark and evil moment to
+end his own life. There were times when his tendencies were so alarming
+that he had to be watched by his friends. But these dark periods were
+followed by a great flow of spirits and the buoyancy of hope.
+
+In the spring of 1830, Jasper and Waubeno came to Gentryville, and there
+met James Gentry, the leading man of the place.
+
+"Are the Linkens still living in Spencer County?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Gentry, "but it has been a hard winter here, and they
+are about to move. The milk sickness has been here again and has carried
+off the cattle, and the people have become discouraged, and look upon
+the place as unhealthy. I have bought Thomas Linken's property. The man
+was here this morning. You will find him getting ready to go away from
+Indiana for good and all."
+
+"Where is he going?" asked Jasper.
+
+"Off to Illinois."
+
+"So I thought," said Jasper. "I must go to see him. How is that bright
+boy of his?"
+
+"Abe?"
+
+"Yes. I like that boy. I am drawn toward him. There is something about
+him that doesn't belong to many people--a spiritual graft that won't
+bear any common fruit. I can see it with my spiritual eye, in the open
+vision, as it were. You don't understand those things--I see you don't.
+I must see him. There are not many like him in soul, if he is ungainly
+in body. I believe that he is born to some higher destiny than other
+men. I see that you do not understand me. Time will make it plain."
+
+"I'm a trader, and no prophet, and I don't know much about such matters
+as these. But Abe Linken, he's grown up now, and _up_ it is, more than
+six feet tall. He's a giant, a great, ungainly, awkward, clever, honest
+fellow, full of jokes and stories, though down at times, and he wouldn't
+do a wrong thing if it were for his right hand, and couldn't do an
+unkind one. He comes up to the store here often and tells stories, and
+sometimes stays until almost midnight, just as he used to do at Jones's.
+Everybody likes him here, and we shall all miss him when he goes away."
+
+Jasper and Waubeno left the little Indiana town, and went toward the
+cabin of the Lincolns. On the way Jasper turned aside to pay a short
+visit to Aunt Olive.
+
+The busy woman saw the preacher from her door, and came out to welcome
+him.
+
+"I knew it was you," was her salutation, "and I am right glad that you
+have come. It has been distressin' times in these parts. Folks have
+died, and cattle have died, and we're all poor enough now, ye may
+depend. Where are ye goin'?"
+
+"To see the Lincolns."
+
+"Sho'! goin' to see them again. Well, ye're none too soon. They're
+gettin' ready to move to Illinois. Thomas Linken's always movin.' Moved
+four times or more already, and I 'magine he'll just keep movin' till he
+moves into his grave, and stops for good. He just lives up in the air,
+that man does. He always is imaginin' that it rains gold in the _next_
+State or county, but it never rains anythin' but rain where he is; and
+if it rained puddin' and sugar-cane, his dish would be bottom upward,
+sure. Elder, what does make ye take such an interest in that there
+family?"
+
+"Mrs. Lincoln is a very good woman, an uncommon one; and Abraham--"
+
+"Yes, elder, I knew ye were goin' to say somethin' good of Abraham. Yer
+heart is just set on that boy. I could see it when ye were here. I
+remember all that ye prophesied about him. I ain't forgot it. Well, I am
+a very plain-spoken woman. Ye ain't much of a prophet, in my opinion. He
+hain't got anywhere yet--now, has he? He's just a great, tall, black,
+jokin' boy; awful lazy, always readin' and talkin'; tellin' stories and
+makin' people laugh, with his own mind as blue as my indigo-bag behind
+it all. That is just what he is, elder, and he'll never amount to
+anythin' in this world or any other. It's all just as I told ye it would
+be. There, now, elder, that's as true as preachin', and the plain facts
+of the case. You wait and see. Time tells the truth."
+
+"His opportunity is yet to come; and when it does, he will have the
+heart and mind to fill it," said Jasper. "A soul that is true to what is
+best in life, becomes a power among men at last--it is spiritual
+gravitation. 'Tis current leads the river. You do not see."
+
+"No, I do not understand any such things as those; but when you've been
+over to see the Linkens, you come back here, and I'll make ye some more
+doughnuts. Come back, won't ye, and bring yer Indian boy? I'm a plain
+woman, and live all alone, and I do love to hear ye talk. It gives me
+somethin' to think about after ye're gone; and there ain't many
+preachers that visit these parts."
+
+Jasper moved on under the great trees, and came to the simple Lincoln
+cabin.
+
+"You have come back, elder," said Thomas Lincoln. "Travelin' with your
+Indian boy? I'm glad to see you, though we are very poor now. We're
+goin' to move away--we and some other families. We're all off to
+Illinois. You've traveled over that kentry, preacher?"
+
+"Yes, I've been there."
+
+"Well, what do you think of the kentry?"
+
+"It is a wonderful country, Mr. Lincoln. It can produce grain enough to
+feed the world. The earth grows gold. It will some day uplift cities--it
+will be rich and happy. I like the prairie country well."
+
+"There! let me tell my wife.--Mother, here's the preacher. What do you
+think he says about the prairie kentry? Says the earth grows gold."
+
+Poor Mrs. Lincoln looked sad and doubtful. She had heard such things
+before. But she welcomed Jasper heartily, and the three, with Waubeno,
+sat down to a meal of plain Indian pudding and milk, and talked of the
+sorrowful winter that had passed and the prospects of a better life
+amid the flowery prairies of Illinois.
+
+A little dog played around them while they were thus eating and talking.
+
+"It is not our dog," said Mrs. Lincoln, "but he has taken a great liking
+to Abraham. The boy is away now, but he will be back by sundown. The dog
+belongs to one of the family, and is always restless when Abraham has
+gone away. Abraham wants to take him along with us, but it seems to me
+that we've got enough mouths to feed without him. We are all so poor!
+and I don't see what good he would do. But if Abraham says so, he will
+have to go."
+
+"How is Abraham?" asked Jasper.
+
+"Oh, he is well, and as good to me as ever, and he studies hard, just as
+he used to do."
+
+"And is as lazy as ever," said Thomas Lincoln. "At the lazy folks' fair
+he'd take the premium."
+
+"You shouldn't say that," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Just think how good he was
+to everybody during the sickness! He never thought of himself, but just
+worked night and day. His own mother died of the same sickness years
+ago, and he's had a feelin' heart for the sufferers in this calamity. I
+tell you, elder, that he's good to everybody, and if he does not take
+hold to work in the way that father does, his head and heart are never
+idle. I am sorry that he and father do not see more alike. The boy is
+goin' to do well in the world. He begins right."
+
+When Abraham returned, there was one heart that was indeed glad to see
+him. It was the little dog. The animal bounded heels over head as soon
+as he heard the boy's step, and almost leaped upon his tall shoulder as
+he met him.
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Lincoln.
+
+"Animals know who are good to them," said Mrs. Lincoln. "Abraham, here
+is the preacher."
+
+How tall, and dark, and droll, and yet how sad, the boy looked! He was
+full grown now, uncouth and ungainly. Who but Jasper would have seen
+behind the features of that young, sinewy backwoodsman the soul of the
+leader and liberator?
+
+It was a busy time with the Lincolns. Their goods were loaded upon a
+rude and very heavy ox-wagon, and the oxen were given into the charge of
+young Abraham to drive.
+
+The young man's voice might have been heard a mile as he swung his whip
+and called out to the oxen on starting. They passed by the grave under
+the great trees where his poor mother's body lay and left it there,
+never to be visited again. There were some thirteen persons in the
+emigrant party.
+
+Emigrant wagons were passing toward Illinois, the "prairie country," as
+it was called, over all the roads of Indiana. The "schooners," as these
+wagons were called, were everywhere to be seen on the great prairie sea.
+It was the time of the great emigration. Jasper had never dreamed of a
+life like this before. He looked into one prairie wagon, whose young
+driver had gone for water. He turned to Waubeno, and said:
+
+"What do you think I saw?"
+
+"Guns to destroy the Indians; trinkets and trifles to cheat us out of
+our lands; whisky for tent-making."
+
+"No, Waubeno. There was an old grandmother there, a sick woman, and a
+little coffin. This is a sad world sometimes. I pity everybody, and I
+would that all men were brothers. Go, look into the wagon, Waubeno."
+
+The Indian went, and soon returned.
+
+"Do you pity them, Waubeno?"
+
+"Yes; but--"
+
+"What, Waubeno?"
+
+"I pity the Indian mother too. Your people drove her from her
+corn-fields at Rock Island, and she left the graves of her children
+behind her."
+
+There was a shadow of sadness in the hearts of the Lincoln family as
+they turned away forever from the grave of Nancy Lincoln under the
+trees. The poor woman who rested there in the spot soon to be
+obliterated, little thought on her dying bed that the little boy she was
+leaving to poverty and adventure would be one day ranked with great men
+of the ages--with Servius Tullius, Pericles, Cincinnatus, Cromwell,
+Hampden, Washington, and Bolivar; that he would sit in the seat of a
+long line of illustrious Presidents, call a million men to arms, or that
+his rude family features would find a place among the grand statues of
+every liberated country on earth.
+
+Poor Nancy Hanks! Every one who knew her had felt the warmth of her
+kindness and marked her sadness. She was an intellectual woman, was
+deeply religious, and is believed to have been a very emotional
+character in the old Methodist camp-meetings. Her family, the Hankses,
+were among the best singers and loudest shouters at the camp-meetings,
+and she was in sympathy with them.
+
+Her heart lived on in Abraham. When she fell sick of the epidemic fever,
+Abraham, then a boy of ten years of age, waited upon her and nursed
+her. There was no doctor within twenty-five miles. She was so slender,
+and had been so ill-sustained that the fever-fires did their work in a
+week. Finding her end near, she called Abraham and his little sister to
+her, and said:
+
+"Be good to one another."
+
+Her face looked into Abraham's for the last time.
+
+"Live," she said, "as I have taught you. Love your kindred, and worship
+God."
+
+She faded away, and her husband made her coffin with a whip-saw out of
+green wood, and on a changing October day they laid her away under the
+trees. They were leaving her grave now, the humblest of all places then,
+but a shrine to-day, for her son's character has glorified it.
+
+He must have always remembered the hymns that she used to sing. Some of
+them were curious compositions. In the better class of them were; "Am I
+a soldier of the cross," "Alas! and did my Saviour bleed," and "How
+tedious and tasteless the hour." The camp-meeting melodies were simple,
+mere movements, like the negro songs.
+
+Abraham swung his whip lustily over the oxen's heads on that long spring
+journey, and directed the way. The wheels of the cart were great
+rollers, and they creaked along. Here and there the roads were muddy,
+but the sky was blue above, and the buds were swelling, and the birds
+were singing, and the little dog that belonged to the party kept close
+to his heels, and the poor people journeyed on under the giant timber,
+and out of it at times along the ocean-like prairies of the Illinois.
+The world was before them--an expanse of forest and prairie that in
+fifty years were to be changed by the axe and plowshare into prosperous
+farms and homesteads, and settled by the restless nations of the world.
+
+The journey was long. There were spells of wintry weather, for the
+spring advanced by degrees even here. Streams overflowing their banks
+lay across their way, and these had to be forded.
+
+One morning the party came to a stream covered with thin ice. The oxen
+and horses hesitated, but were forced into the cold water. After a
+dreary effort the hardy pilgrims passed over and mounted the western
+bank. A sharp cry was heard on the opposite side.
+
+"You have left the dog, Abe," said one. "Good riddance to him! I am glad
+that we are quit of him at last."
+
+The dog's pitiable cry rang out on the crisp, cool air. He was barking
+_to_ Abraham, and the teamster's heart recognized that the animal's call
+was to him.
+
+"See him run, and howl!" said another. "Whip up, Abe, and we will soon
+be out of sight."
+
+Young Lincoln looked behind. The little animal would go down to the
+water, and try to swim across, but the broken ice drove him back. Then
+he set up a cry, as much as to say:
+
+"Abe, Abe, you will not leave me!"
+
+"Drive on," said one of the men. "He'll take care of himself. He'd no
+business to lag behind. What do we want of the dog, anyway?"
+
+The animal cried more and more piteously and lustily.
+
+"Whoa!" said Lincoln.
+
+"What are you going to do, Abe?"
+
+"To do as I would be done by. I can't stand that."
+
+Lincoln plunged into the frozen water and waded across. The dog,
+overjoyed, leaped into his arms. Lincoln returned, having borne the
+little dog in his arms across the stream. He was cold and dripping, and
+was censured for causing a needless delay. But he had a happy face and
+heart.
+
+Referring to this episode of the journey a long time afterward, Lincoln
+said to a friend:
+
+"I could not endure the idea of abandoning even a dog. Pulling off shoes
+and socks, I waded across the stream, and triumphantly returned with the
+shivering animal under my arms. His frantic leaps of joy, and other
+evidences of gratitude, repaid me for all the exposure I had
+undergone."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+MAIN-POGUE.
+
+
+Jasper taught for a time near New Salem, then made again his usual
+circuit, after which he made his home for a time at Springfield,
+Illinois. When Jasper was returning from this last circuit of his
+self-appointed mission the Black Hawk war had begun again. He came one
+day, after long wanderings, to Bushville, in Schuyler County, Illinois,
+and found the place in a state of great excitement. The town was filling
+with armed men, and among them were many faces that he had seen at New
+Salem, when Waubeno was his companion.
+
+He recognized a Mr. Green, whom he had known in New Salem, and said to
+him:
+
+"My friend, what does this armed gathering mean?"
+
+"Black Hawk has crossed the Mississippi and is making war on the
+settlers. The Governor has called for volunteers to defend the State."
+
+"What has led to this new outbreak?" said Jasper, although few knew the
+cause better than he.
+
+"Oh, sentiment--Indian sentiment. Black Hawk wants the old Indian town
+on the bluff again. He says it is sacred to his race; that his
+ancestors are buried there, and that there is no place like it on earth,
+or none that can take its place in his soul. He claims that the chiefs
+had been made drunk by the white men when they signed the treaty that
+gave up the town; that he never sold his fathers' graves. His heart is
+full of revenge, and he and all his tribe cling to that old Sac village
+with the grasp of death."
+
+"The trouble has been gathering long?"
+
+"Yes. The settlers came up, under the treaty, to occupy the best lands
+around the Sac town and compel the Indians to live west of the
+Mississippi. Then the Indians and settlers began to dispute and quarrel.
+The settlers brought whisky, and Black Hawk demanded that it should not
+be sold to his people. He violently entered a settler's claim, and stove
+in a barrel of whisky before the man's eyes. Then the Indians went over
+the Mississippi sullenly, and left their cabins and corn-fields. But
+hard weather came, and the women would come back to the old corn-fields,
+which they had planted the year before, to steal corn. They said that
+the corn was theirs, and that they were starving for their own food.
+Some of them were killed by the settlers. Black Hawk had become enraged
+again. He has been trying to get the Indian tribes to unite and kill all
+of the whites. He has violated the old Indian treaty, and is murdering
+people on every hand, and the Governor has asked for volunteers to
+protect the lives and property of the settlers. He had to do it. Either
+the whites or the Indians must perish. The settlers came here under a
+legal treaty; they must be protected. It is no time for sentiment now."
+
+"Are nearly all of the men of New Salem here?" said Jasper.
+
+"Yes; Abraham Lincoln was the first to enlist, and he is our leader. He
+ought to be a good Indian fighter. His grandfather was killed by the
+Indians."
+
+"So I have heard."
+
+"But Lincoln himself is not a hard man; there's nothing revengeful about
+him. He would be more likely to do a good act to an Indian than a
+harmful one, if he could. His purpose is not to kill Indians, but to
+protect the State and save the lives of peaceful, inoffensive people."
+
+The men from the several towns in the vicinity gathered in the open
+space, and proceeded to elect their officers.
+
+The manner of the election was curious. There were the two candidates
+for captain of the company. They were Abraham Lincoln and a man by the
+name of Fitzpatrick. Each volunteer was asked to put himself in the line
+by the side of the man of his choice.
+
+One by one they stepped forward and arranged themselves by the side of
+Lincoln, until Lincoln stood at the head of a larger part of the men.
+
+"Captain Lincoln!" said one, when he saw how the election was going.
+"Three cheers for Honest Abe! He is our man."
+
+There arose a great shout of "Captain Lincoln!"
+
+Jasper marked the delight which the election had given his old New Salem
+friends. Lincoln himself once said that that election was the proudest
+event of his life.
+
+The New Salem Company went into camp at Beardstown, and was disbanded
+at Ottawa thirty days after, not having met the enemy. Lincoln, feeling
+that he should be true to his country and the public safety at the hour
+of peril, enlisted again as a common private, served another thirty
+days, and then, the war not being over, he enlisted again. The war
+terminated with the battle of Bad Axe and the capture of Black Hawk, who
+became a prisoner of state.
+
+One day, when the volunteers were greatly excited by the tales of Indian
+murders, and were beset by foes lurking in ambush and pirogue, a
+remarkable scene occurred in Lincoln's camp.
+
+The men, who had been talking over a recent massacre by the Indians,
+were thirsting to avenge the barbarities, when suddenly the withered
+form of an Indian appeared before them.
+
+They started, and an officer demanded:
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"Main-Pogue."
+
+"How came you here?"
+
+"I am a friend to the white man. I'm going to meet my son, a boy whom I
+have made my own."
+
+"You are a spy!"
+
+"I am not a spy. I am Main-Pogue. I am hungry; I am old. I am no spy.
+Give an old Indian food, and I will serve you while you need. Then let
+me go and find my boy."
+
+"Food!" said one. "You are a spy, a plotter. There is murder in your
+heart. We will make short work with you. That is what we are sent out to
+do."
+
+"I never did the white man harm," said the old man, drawing his blanket
+around him.
+
+"You shall pay for this, you old hypocrite!" said another officer. "Men,
+what shall we do with this spy?"
+
+"Kill him!" said one.
+
+"Shoot him!" said another.
+
+"Torture him, and make him confess!" said a third.
+
+The old Indian stood bent and trembling.
+
+"I am a wandering beggar, looking for my boy," said the Indian. "I never
+did the white man harm. Hear me."
+
+"You belong to Black Hawk's devils," said an officer, "and you are
+plotting our death. You shall be shot. Seize him!"
+
+The old Indian trembled as the men surrounded him bent on his
+destruction.
+
+There came toward the excited company a tall young officer. All eyes
+were bent upon him. He peered into the face of the old Indian. The men
+rushed forward to obey the officer.
+
+"Halt!" said the tall captain. "This Indian must not be killed by us."
+
+That speaker was Abraham Lincoln. The men jeered at him, but he stood
+between the Indian and them, like a form of iron.
+
+The Indian gave his protector a grateful look, and there dropped from
+his hand a passport, which in his confusion he had failed to give the
+officer. It was a certificate saying that he had rendered good service
+to the Government, and it was signed by General Cass.
+
+"Why should you wish to save him?" asked a volunteer of young Lincoln.
+"Your grandfather was killed by an Indian. You are a coward!"
+
+"I would do what is right by any man," said Lincoln, fiercely. "Who says
+I am a coward? I will meet him here in an open contest. Now, let the man
+who says I am a coward meet me face to face and hand to hand."
+
+He stood over the cowering Indian, dark, self-confident and defiant.
+
+"I stand for justice. Let him come on. I stand alone for right. Let him
+come on.--Main-Pogue, go!"
+
+Out of the camp hobbled the Indian, with the long, strong arm of Abraham
+Lincoln lifted over him. The eyes of the men followed him in anger,
+disappointment, and scorn. Hard words passed from one to the other. He
+felt for the first time in his life that he stood in this matter utterly
+alone.
+
+"Jeer on," he said. "I would shield this Indian at the cost of my life.
+I would not be a true soldier if I failed in my duty to this old man. In
+every event of life it is right that makes might; and the rights of an
+Indian are as sacred as those of any other man, and I would defend them,
+at whatever cost, as those of a white man.--Main-Pogue, go hence! Here
+will I stand between you and death."
+
+"Heaven bless you for protecting a poor old man! I have been a runner
+for the whites for many years, but I have never met a man like you. I
+will tell my boy of this. Your name is Lincoln?"
+
+"Yes--Abraham Lincoln, though the name matters nothing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE FOREST COLLEGE.
+
+
+"Well, how time flies, and the clock of the year does go round! Here's
+the elder again! It's a bright day that brings ye here, though I
+shouldn't let ye sleep in the prophet's chamber, if I had one, 'cause ye
+ain't any prophet at all. But ye are right welcome just the same. Where
+is yer Indian boy?"
+
+"He's gone to his own people, Aunt Olive."
+
+"To whet his tommyhawk, I make no doubt. Oh, elder, how ye have been
+deceived in people! Ye believe that every one is as good as one can be,
+or can be grafted to bear sweet fruit, but, hoe-down-hoe, elder, 'taint
+so. Yer Aunt Indiana knows how desperately wicked is the human heart. If
+ye don't do others, others will do ye, and this world is a warfare. Come
+in; I've got somethin' new to tell ye. It's about the Linkens' Abe."
+
+The Tunker entered the cheerful cabin in the sunny clearing of the
+timber.
+
+"I've been savin' up the news to tell ye when ye came. Abe's been to
+war!"
+
+"He has not been hurt, has he?"
+
+"_Hurt!_ No, he hasn't been hurt. A great Indian fighter he proved! The
+men were all laughin' about it. He'll live to fight another day, as the
+sayin' goes, and so will the enemy. Well, I always thought that there
+was no need of killin' people. Let them alone, and they will all die
+themselves; and as for the enemy, let them alone, and they will come
+home waggin' their tails behind them, as the ditty says. Well, I must
+tell ye. Abe's been to war. He didn't see the enemy, nor fight, nor
+nothin'. But a wild Indian came right into his camp, and the soldiers
+started up to kill him, and what do ye suppose Abe did?"
+
+"I think he did what he thought to be right."
+
+"He let him go! There! what do you think of that? He just went to
+fightin' his own company to save the Indian. There's a warrior for ye!
+And that wasn't all. He talked in such a way that he frightened his own
+men, and he just gave the Indian some bread and cheese, and let him off.
+And the Indian went off blessin' him. Abe will never make a soldier or
+handle armies much, after all yer prophecies. Such a soldier as that
+ought to be rewarded a pinfeather."
+
+"His conduct was after the Galilean teaching--was it not?--and produced
+the result of making the Indian a friend. Was not that a good thing to
+do? Who was the Indian?"
+
+"It was old Main-Pogue. He was uncle, or somethin', to that boy who used
+to travel about with you, teachin' you the language--Waubeno; the old
+interpreter for General Cass's men. He'll go off and tell Waubeno. I
+wonder if Main-Pogue knew who it was that saved him, and if he will tell
+Waubeno that?"
+
+"Lincoln did a noble act."
+
+"Oh, elder, ye've got a good heart, but ye're weak in yer upper story.
+That ain't all I've got to tell ye. Abe has failed, after all yer
+prophecies, too. He and another man went to keepin' store up in New
+Salem, and he let his partner cheat him, and they _failed_; and now he's
+just workin' to pay up his debts, and his partner's too."
+
+"And his partner's too? That shows that he saved an honest purpose out
+of losses. The greatest of all losses is a loss of integrity of purpose.
+I'm glad to hear that he has not lost that."
+
+"Oh, elder, ye've allus somethin' good to say of that boy. But I'm not
+agin him. He's Tom Linken's son, just as I told ye; and he'll never come
+to anythin' good. He all runs to books and gabble, and goes 'round
+repeatin' poetry, which is only the lies of crazy folks. I haven't any
+use for poetry, except hymns. But he's had real trouble of late, besides
+these things, and I'm sorry for that. He's lost the girl what he was
+goin' to marry. She was a beautiful girl, and her death made him so
+downhearted that they had to shut him up and watch him to keep him from
+committin' suicide. They say that he has very melancholy spells. He
+can't help that, I don't suppose. His mother what sleeps over yonder
+under the timber was melancholy. How are all the schools that you set to
+goin' on the Wabash?"
+
+"They are all growing, good woman, and it fills my heart with delight to
+see them grow. They are all growing like gardens for the good of this
+great country. It does my heart good, and makes my soul happy, to start
+these Christian schools. It's my mission. And I try to start them
+right--character first, true views of things next, and books last; but
+the teaching of young children to think and act right spiritually is the
+highest education of all. This is best done by telling stories, and so I
+travel and travel telling stories to schools. You do not see my plan,
+but it is the true seed that I am planting, and it will bear fruit when
+I am gone to a better world than this."
+
+"Oh, ye mean well," said Aunt Olive, "but ye don't know more than some
+whole families--pardon my plainness of speech. I don't doubt that ye are
+doin' some good, after a fashion; but don't prophesy--yer prophecies in
+regard to Abe have failed already. He'll never command the American
+army, nor run the nation, nor keep store. Yer Aunt Indiana can read
+character, and her prophecies have proved true so far."
+
+"Wait--time tells the whole truth; and worth is worth, and passes for
+the true gold of life in time."
+
+"Ye don't think that there's any chance for him yet, do ye, elder, after
+lettin' the Indian go, and failin', and havin' that melancholy spell?"
+
+"Yes, I do. My spiritual sense tells me so."
+
+"Yer spiritual sense! Elder, ye ought to go to school. Ye are nothin'
+but a child yerself. And let me advise ye never to have anythin' more to
+do with that there Indian boy. Fishes don't swim on rocks, nor hawks go
+to live in a cage. An Indian is an Indian, and, mark my words, that boy
+will have yer scalp some day. He will, now--he will. I saw it in his
+eye."
+
+The Tunker journeyed toward the new town of Springfield, Illinois, along
+the fragrant timber and over the blooming prairies. Everywhere were to
+be seen the white prairie schooner and the little village of people that
+followed it.
+
+Springfield was but a promising village at this time, in a very fertile
+land. Probably no one ever thought that it would become a capital city
+of an empire of population, the hub of that great wheel of destiny
+rimmed by the Wabash, the Mississippi, Rock River, and the Lake; and
+still less did any one ever dream that it would be the legislative
+influence of that tall, laughing, sad-faced boy, Lincoln, who would
+produce this result.
+
+Jasper preached at Springfield, and visited the log school-house, and
+told stories to the little school. He then started to walk to New Salem,
+a distance of some eighteen or twenty miles.
+
+It was a pleasant country, and all things seemed teeming with life, for
+it was now the high tide of the year. The prairies were billows of
+flowers, and the timber was shady and cool, carpeted with mosses,
+tangled with vines, with its tops bright with sunshine and happy with
+the songs of birds.
+
+About half-way between the two towns Jasper saw some lofty trees, giants
+of the forest, that spread out their branches like roofs of some ancient
+temple. There were birds' nests made of sticks in their tops, and a cool
+stream ran under them. He sought the place for rest.
+
+As he entered the great shadow, he saw a tall young man seated on a log,
+absorbed in reading a book. He approached him, and recognized him as
+young Lincoln.
+
+"I am glad to meet you here, in this beautiful place," he said.
+
+"This is my college," said Lincoln.
+
+"What are you studying, my friend?"
+
+"Oh, I am trying my hand at law a little. Stuart, the Springfield
+lawyer, lends me his law-books, and I walk over there from New Salem to
+get them, and when I get as far back as this I sit down on this log and
+study. I can study when I am walking. I once mastered forty pages of
+Blackstone in a walk. But I love to stop and study on this log. It is
+rather a long walk from New Salem to Springfield--almost twenty
+miles--and when I get as far back as this I feel tired. These trees are
+so grand that they look like a house of Nature, and I call them my
+college. I can't have the privileges of better-off young men, who can go
+to Philadelphia, New York, or Boston to study law, and so I do the best
+I can here. I get discouraged sometimes, but I believe that right is
+might, and do my best, and there is something that is leading me on."
+
+"I am glad to find you here, Abraham Lincoln. I love you in my heart,
+and I wish that I might help you in your studies. But I have never
+studied law."
+
+"But you do help me."
+
+"How?"
+
+"By your faith in me. Elder, I have been having a hard row to hoe, and
+am an unlucky fellow. Have been keeping a grocery, and we have
+failed--failed right at the beginning of life. It hurt my pride, but,
+elder, it has not hurt my honor. I've worked and paid up all my debts,
+and now I am going to pay _his_. I might make excuses for not paying his
+part of the debts, but, elder, it would not leave my name clear. I must
+live conscience free. People call me a fool, but they trust me. They
+have made me postmaster at New Salem, though that ain't much of an
+office. The mail comes only once a week, and I carry it in my hat.
+They'll need a new post-office by and by."
+
+"My friend, you are giving yourself a moral self-education that has more
+worth than all the advantages of wealth or a famous name or the schools
+of Boston. The time will come when this growing people will need such a
+man as you to lead them, and you will lead them more grandly than others
+who have had an easier school. You have learned the first principles of
+true education--it is, the habit that can not do wrong without feeling
+the flames of torment within. Every sacrifice that you have made to your
+conscience has given you power. That power is a godlike thing. You will
+see all one day, as I do now."
+
+"Elder, they call me a merry-maker, but I carry with me a sad heart. I
+wish to tell you, for I feel that you are my true friend. I loved Ann
+Rutledge. She was the daughter of James Rutledge, the founder of our
+village and the owner of the mill on the Sangamon. She was a girl of a
+loving heart, gentle blood, and her face was lovely. You saw her at the
+tavern. I loved her--I loved her very name; and she is dead. It has all
+happened since you were here, and I have wished to meet you again and
+tell you all. Such things as these make me melancholy. A great darkness
+comes down upon me at times, and I am tempted to end all the bright
+dream that we call life. But I rise above the temptation. Elder, you
+don't know how my heart has had to struggle. I sometimes think of my
+poor mother's grave in the timber in Indiana, and I always think of
+_her_ grave--Ann Rutledge's--and then it comes over me like a cloud,
+that there is no place for me in the world. Do you want to know what I
+do in those hours, elder? I repeat a long poem. I have said it over a
+hundred times. It was written by some poet who felt as I do. I would
+like to repeat it to you, elder. I tell stories--they only make me more
+melancholy--but this poem soothes my mind. It makes me feel that other
+men have suffered before, and it makes me willing to suffer for others,
+and to accept my lot in life, whatever it may be."
+
+"I wish to hear the poem that has so moved you," said the Tunker.
+
+Abraham Lincoln stood up and leaned against the trunk of one of the
+giant trees. The sunlight was sifting through the great canopy of
+leaves, boughs, and nests overhead, and afar gleamed the prairies like
+gardens of the sun. He lifted his long arm, and, with a sad face, said:
+
+"Elder, listen.
+
+    "'Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
+    Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
+    A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
+    He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.
+
+    "'The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
+    Be scattered around, and together be laid;
+    And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
+    Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.
+
+    "'The infant a mother attended and loved,
+    The mother that infant's affection who proved,
+    The husband that mother and infant who blest--
+    Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.
+
+    "'[_The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,_
+    _Shone beauty and pleasure, her triumphs are by;_
+    _And the memory of those who loved her and praised,_
+    _Are alike from the minds of the living erased_.]
+
+    "'The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne,
+    The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,
+    The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
+    Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.
+
+    "'The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
+    The herdsman who climbed with his goats up the steep,
+    The beggar who wandered in search of his bread,
+    Have faded away like the grass that we tread.
+
+    "'[The saint who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
+    The sinner who dared to remain unforgiven,
+    The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
+    Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.]
+
+    "'So the multitude goes, like the flower or the weed
+    That withers away to let others succeed;
+    So the multitude comes, even those we behold,
+    To repeat every tale that has often been told.
+
+    "'For we are the same our fathers have been;
+    We see the same sights our fathers have seen;
+    We drink the same stream, we view the same sun,
+    And run the same course our fathers have run.
+
+    "'The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think;
+    From the death we are shrinking our fathers would shrink;
+    To the life we are clinging they also would cling;
+    But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.
+
+    "'They loved, but the story we can not unfold;
+    They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold;
+    They grieved, but no wail from their slumber will come;
+    They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.
+
+    "'They died, ay, they died: we things that are now,
+    That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
+    And make in their dwellings a transient abode,
+    Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.
+
+    "'Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
+    Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
+    And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
+    Still follow each other like surge upon surge.
+
+    "''Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
+    From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
+    From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud--
+    Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?'"
+
+He stood there in moody silence when he had finished the recitation,
+which was (unknown to him) from the pen of a pastoral Scotch poet. The
+Tunker looked at him, and saw how deep were his feelings, and how
+earnest were his desires to know the true way of life and to do well his
+mission, and go on with the great multitude, whose procession comes upon
+the earth and vanishes from the scenes. But he did not dream of the
+greatness of the destiny for which that student was preparing in the
+hard college of the woods.
+
+"My education must always be defective," said the young student. "I can
+not read law in great law-offices, like other young men, but I can be
+just--I can do right; and I would never undertake a case of law, for any
+money, that I did not think right and just. I would stand for what I
+thought was right, as I did by the old Indian, and I think that the
+people in time would learn to trust me."
+
+"Abraham Lincoln, to school one's conscience to the habit of right, so
+that it can not do wrong, is the first and the highest education. It is
+what one is that makes him a knight, and that is the only true
+knighthood. The highest education is that of the soul. Did you know that
+the Indian whom you saved was Main-Pogue?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And that Main-Pogue is the uncle and foster-father of my old guide,
+Waubeno?"
+
+"No. Waubeno was the boy who came with you to the Wabash?"
+
+"Waubeno's father was killed by the white people. He was condemned to
+death. He asked to go home to see his family once more, and returned
+upon his honor to die. That old story is true. Does it seem possible
+that an English soldier could ever take the life of an Indian like
+that?"
+
+"No, it does not. Will Main-Pogue tell Waubeno that it was I who saved
+him?"
+
+"Does Main-Pogue know you by name? I hope he does."
+
+"He may have forgotten. I would like for him to remember it, because the
+Indian boy liked me, and an Indian killed my grandfather. I liked that
+Indian boy, and I would do justice, if I could, by all men, and any
+man."
+
+"Lincoln, I came to love and respect that Indian boy. There was a native
+nobility in him. But my efforts to make him a Christian failed, for he
+carried revenge in his heart. I wish that he could know that it was you
+who did that deed; your character might be an influence that would
+strike an unknown cord in the boy's heart, for Waubeno has a noble
+heart--Waubeno is noble. I wish he knew who it was that spared
+Main-Pogue. Acts teach where words fail, and the true teacher is not
+lips, but life. The boy once said to me that he would cease to seek to
+avenge his father's death if he could find a single white man who would
+defend an Indian to his own harm, because it was right. Now, Lincoln,
+you have done just the act that would change his heart. But he has gone
+with the winds. How will he ever hear of it? How will he ever know it?
+
+"When Main-Pogue meets him, if he ever does again, he may tell him all.
+But does Main-Pogue understand the relations that exist between you and
+me, and us and that boy? O Waubeno, Waubeno, I would that you might hear
+of this!"
+
+He thought, and added: "He _will_ hear of it, somehow, in some way.
+Providence makes golden keys of deeds like yours. They unlock the doors
+of mystery. Let me see, what was it Waubeno said--his exact words?
+_'When I find a single white man who defends an Indian to his own hurt,
+because it is right, I will promise.'_ Lincoln, he said that. You are
+that man. Lincoln, may God bless you, and call you into his service when
+he has need of a man!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+MAKING LINCOLN A "SON OF MALTA."
+
+
+When Jasper, some years later, again met Aunt Eastman, she had a yet
+more curious story to tell about Abraham.
+
+It was spring, and the cherry-trees were in bloom and musical with bees.
+In the yard a single apple-tree was red with blooms, which made fragrant
+the air.
+
+"And here comes Johnnie Apple-seed!" said Aunt Olive. "Heaven bless ye!
+I call ye Johnnie Apple-seed because ye remind me so much of that good
+man. He was a good man, if he had lost his wits; and ye mean well, just
+as he did. Smell the apple-blossoms! I don't know but it was _him_ that
+planted that there tree."
+
+To explain Aunt Olive's remarks, we should say that there once wandered
+along the banks of the Ohio, a poor wayfaring man who had a singular
+impression of duty. He felt it to be his calling in life to plant
+apple-seeds. He would go to a farmer's house, ask for work, and remain
+at the place a few days or weeks. After he had gone, apple-seeds would
+be found sprouting about the farm. His journeys were the beginnings of
+many orchards in the Middle, West, and prairie States.
+
+"I love to smell apple-blossoms," said Aunt Olive. "It reminds me of old
+New England. I can almost hear the bells ring on the old New England
+hills when I smell apple-blooms. They say that Johnnie Apple-seed is
+dead, and that they filled his grave with apple-blooms. I don't know as
+it is so, but it ought to be. I sometimes wish that I was a poet,
+because a poet fixes things as they ought to be--makes the world all
+over right. But, la! Abe Linken was a poet. _Have_ ye heard the news?"
+
+"No. What?--nothing bad, I hope?"
+
+"_He's_ hung out his shingle."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"In Springfield."
+
+"In Springfield?"
+
+"Yes, elder, I've seen it. I have traveled a good deal since I saw
+you--'round to camp-meetin', and fairs, rightin' things, and doin' all
+the good I can. I've seen it. And, elder, they've made a mock Mason on
+him."
+
+In the pioneer days of Illinois the making of mock Masons, or _pseudo_
+Sons of Malta, was a popular form of frolic, now almost forgotten. Young
+people formed mock lodges or secret societies, for the purpose of
+initiating new members by a series of tricks, which became the jokes of
+the community.
+
+"Yes," said Aunt Olive, "and what do ye think they did? Well, in them
+societies they first test the courage of those who want to be new
+members. There's Judge Ball, now; when they tested his courage, what do
+you think? They blindfolded him, and turned up his blue jean trousers
+about the ankles, and said, 'Now let out the snakes!' and they took an
+elder-bush squirt-gun and squirted water over his feet; and the water
+was cold, and he thought it was snakes, and he jumped clear up to the
+cross-beams on the chamber floor, and screamed and screamed, and they
+wouldn't have him."
+
+Jasper had never heard of these rude methods of making jokes and odd
+stories in the backwoods.
+
+"What did they do to test Abraham's courage?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know--blindfolded him and dressed him up like a donkey, and led
+him up to a lookin'-glass, and made him promise that he would never tell
+what he saw, and then _on_bandaged his eyes--or something of that kind.
+His courage stood the test. Of course it did; no matter what they might
+have done, no one could frighten Abe. But he got the best o' them."
+
+"How?"
+
+"He took up a collection for a poor woman that he had met on the way,
+and proposed to change the society into a committee for the relief of
+the poor and sufferin'."
+
+"That shows his heart again."
+
+"I knew that you would say that, elder."
+
+"Everything that I hear of Lincoln shows how that his character grows.
+It is my daily prayer that Waubeno may hear of how he saved Main-Pogue.
+It would change the heart of Waubeno. He will know of it some day, and
+then he will fulfill his promise to me."
+
+The Tunker sat down in the door under the blooming cherry-trees, and
+Aunt Olive brought a tray of food, and they ate their supper there.
+
+[Illustration: SARAH BUSH LINCOLN, ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S STEP-MOTHER.
+
+_After photograph taken in 1865._]
+
+Afar stretched the prairies. The larks quivered in the air, happy in the
+May-time, and gurgling with song. In the sunny outlines were seen a
+train of prairie schooners winding over the plain.
+
+These were rude times, when all things were new. Men were purchasing the
+future by hardship and toil. But the two religious enthusiasts presented
+a happy picture as they sat under the cherry-trees and talked of
+camp-meetings, and the inner light, and all they had experienced, and
+ate their frugal meal. Odd though their views and beliefs and habits may
+seem in some respects, each had a definite purpose of good; each lived
+in the horizon of bright prospects here and hereafter, and each was
+happy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+PRAIRIE ISLAND.
+
+
+The beautiful country between Lake Michigan, or old Fort Dearborn, and
+the Mississippi, or Rock Island, was once a broad prairie, a sea of
+flowers, birds, and bright insects. The buffaloes roamed over it in
+great herds, and the buffalo-birds followed them. The sun rose over it
+as over a sea, and the arched aurora rose red above it like some far
+gate of a land of fire. Here the Sacs and Foxes roamed free; the Iowas
+and the tribes of the North. It was one vast sunland, a breeze-swept
+brightness, almost without a dot or shadow.
+
+Almost, but not quite. Here and there, like islands in a summer sea,
+rose dark groves of oak and vines. These spots of refreshment were
+called prairie islands, and in one of these islands, now gone, a pioneer
+colony made their homes, and built a meeting-house, which was also to be
+used as a school-house. Six or more of these families were from
+Germantown, Pennsylvania, and were Tunkers. The other families were from
+the New England States.
+
+To this nameless village, long ago swept away by the prairie fires, went
+Jasper the Parable, with his cobbling-tools, his stories, and his gospel
+of universal love and good-will. The Tunkers welcomed him with delight,
+and the emigrants from New England looked upon him kindly as a good and
+well-meaning man. There were some fifteen or twenty children in the
+settlement, and here the peaceful disciple of Pestalozzi, and friend of
+Froebel, applied for a place to teach, and the school was by unanimous
+consent assigned to him.
+
+So began the school at Prairie Island--a school where the first
+principles of education were perceived and taught, and that might
+furnish a model for many an ambitious institution of to-day.
+
+"It is life that teaches," the Parable used to say, quoting Pestalozzi.
+"The first thing to do is to form the habits that lead to character; the
+next thing is to stamp the young mind with right views of life; then
+comes book-learning--words, figures, and maps--but stories that educate
+morally are the primer of life. Christ taught spiritual truths by
+parables. I teach formative ideas by parables. The teacher should be a
+story-teller. In my own country all children go through fairy-land. Here
+they teach the young figures first, as though all of life was a
+money-market. It is all unnatural and wrong. I must teach and preach by
+stories."
+
+The school-house was a simple building of logs and prairie grass, with
+oiled paper for windows, and a door that opened out and afforded a view
+of the vast prairie-sea to the west. Jasper taught here five days in a
+week, and sang, prayed, and exhorted on Sunday afternoons, and led
+social meetings on Sunday evenings. The little community were united,
+peaceful, and happy. They were industrious, self-respecting people, who
+were governed by their moral sense, and their governing principle
+seemed to be the faith that, if a person desired and sought to follow
+the divine will, he would have a revelation of spiritual light, which
+would be like the opening of the gates of heaven to him. Nearly every
+man and woman had some special experience of the soul to tell; and if
+ever there was a community of simple faith and brotherhood, it was here.
+
+Jasper's school began in the summer, when the sun was high, the cool
+shadows of the oaks grateful, and the bluebells filled the tall, wavy
+grasses, and the prairie plover swam in the air.
+
+Jasper's first teaching was by the telling of stories that leave in the
+young mind right ideas and impressions.
+
+"My children, listen," said the gracious old man, as he sat down to his
+rude desk, "and let me tell you some stories like those Pestalozzi used
+to tell. Still, now!"
+
+He lifted his finger and his eyebrows, and sat a little while in
+silence.
+
+"Hark!" he said. "Hear the birds sing in the trees! Nature is teaching
+us. When Nature is teaching I listen. Nature is a greater teacher than
+I, or any man."
+
+The little school sat in silence and listened. They had never heard the
+birds sing in that way before. Presently there was a hush in the trees.
+
+"Now I will begin," said he.
+
+
+_PESTALOZZI'S STORIES._
+
+"Did you ever see a mushroom? Yes, there are mushrooms under the cool
+trees. Once, in the days when the plants and flowers and trees all
+talked--they talk now, but we have ceased to hear them, a little
+mushroom bowed in the winds, and said to the grass:
+
+"'See how I grow! I came up in a single night. I am smart.'
+
+"'Yes,' said the grass, waving gently.
+
+"'But you,' said the smart little mushroom, 'it takes you a whole year
+to grow.'
+
+"The grass was sorry that it took so long for it to grow, and hung its
+head, and thought, and thought.
+
+"'But,' said the grass, 'you spring up in the night, and in a day or two
+you are gone. It takes me a year to grow, but I outlive a hundred crops
+of mushrooms. I will have patience and be content. Worth is of slow
+growth.'
+
+"In a week the boastful little mushroom was gone, but the grass bloomed
+and bore seed, and left a lovely memory behind it. Hark! hear the breeze
+in the trees! Nature is teaching now. Listen!
+
+"Now I will tell you another little story, such as I used to hear
+Pestalozzi relate. I am going to tell this story to myself, but you may
+listen. I have told a story to you, but now I will talk to myself.
+
+"There once was a king, who had been riding in the sun, and he saw afar
+a lime-tree, full of cool, green leaves. Oh, how refreshing it looked to
+him! So he rode up to the lime-tree, and rested in the shadow.
+
+"The leaves all clung to the branches, and the winds whispered among
+them, but did not blow them away.
+
+"Then the king loved the tree, and he said:
+
+"'O tree, would that my people clung to me as thy leaves do to thy
+branches!'
+
+"The tree was pleased, and spoke:
+
+"'Would you learn from me wisdom to govern thy people?'
+
+"'Yes, O lime-tree! Speak on.'
+
+"'Would you know, then, what makes my leaves so cling to my branches?'
+
+"'Yes, O Lime Tree! Speak on.'
+
+"'I carry to them the sap that nourishes them. 'Tis he that gives
+himself to others that lives in others, and is safe and happy himself.
+Do that, and thy kingdom shall be a lime-tree.'"
+
+A child brought into the room a bunch of harebells and laid them upon
+the teacher's desk.
+
+"Look!" said Jasper, "Nature is teaching. Let us be quiet a little and
+hear what she has to say. The harebells bring us good-will from the sun
+and skies. There is goodness everywhere, and for all. Let us be
+grateful.
+
+"Now I will give you another little Pestalozzian story, told in my own
+way, and you may tell it to your fathers and mothers and neighbors when
+you go home.
+
+"There was once a man who had two little ponies. They were pretty
+creatures, and just alike. He sold one of them to a hard-hearted man,
+who kicked him and beat him; and the pony said:
+
+"'The man is my enemy. I will be his, and become a cunning and vicious
+horse.'
+
+"So the pony became cunning and vicious, and threw his rider and
+crippled him, and grew spavined and old, and every one was glad when he
+was dead.
+
+"The man sold the other pony to a noble-hearted man, who treated him
+kindly and well. Then the pony said:
+
+"'I am proud of my master. I will become a good horse, and my master's
+will shall be my own.'
+
+"Like the master became the horse. He became strong and beautiful. They
+chose him for the battle, and he went through the wars, and the master
+slept by his side. He bore his master at last in a triumphal procession,
+and all the people were sorry when he came to die. Our minds here are
+one of the little colts.
+
+"So we will all work together. The lesson is ended. You have all the
+impressions that you can bear for one day. Now we will go out and play."
+
+But the play-ground was made a field of teaching.
+
+"There are plays that form right ideas," said Jasper, "and plays that
+lead to an evil character. I teach no plays that lead to cruelty or
+deception. I would no sooner withhold amusements from my little ones
+than water, but my amusements, like the water, must be healthy and
+good."
+
+There was one odd play that greatly delighted all the children of the
+Prairie Island school. The idea of it was evolved in the form of a
+popular song many years afterward. In it the children are supposed to
+ask an old German musician how many instruments of music he could play,
+and he acts out in pantomime all of the instruments he could blow or
+handle. We think it was this merriment that became known in America as
+the song of Johnnie Schmoker in the minstrel days.
+
+Not the children only, but the parents also all delighted to see Jasper
+pretend to play all the instruments of the German band. Often at
+sunset, when the settlers came in from the corn-fields and rested under
+the great trees, Jasper would delight the islanders, as they called
+themselves, with this odd play.
+
+"The purpose of education," Jasper used to repeat over and over to his
+friends in this sunny island of the prairie sea, "is not to teach the
+young how to make money or get wealth by a cunning brain, but how to
+live for the soul. The soul's best interests are in life's highest
+interest, and there is no poverty in the world that is like spiritual
+poverty. In the periods of poetry a nation is great; and when poetry
+fails, the birds cease to sing and the flowers to bloom, and divinities
+go away, and the heart turns to stone."
+
+There was one story that he often repeated to his little school. The
+pupils liked it because there was action in it, as in the play-story of
+the German musician. He called it "CHINK, CHINK, CHINK"--though we
+believe a somewhat similar story is told in Germany under the name of
+"The Stone-cold Heart."
+
+He would clasp his hands together and strike them upon his knee, making
+a sound like the jingling of silver coin. Any one can produce this
+curious sound by the same action.
+
+"Chink, chink, chink," he would say. "Do you hear it? Chink, chink,
+chink. Listen, as I strike my hands on my knees. Money? Now I will open
+my hands. There is no money in them; it was fool's gold, all.
+
+"There lived in a great German forest a poor woodman. He was a giant,
+but he had a great heart and a willing arm, and he worked contentedly
+for many years.
+
+"One day he chanced to go with some foresters into the city. It was a
+festival day. He heard the jingle of money, just like that" (striking
+his clasped hands on his knee). "He saw what money would buy. He thought
+it would buy happiness. He did not know that it was fool's gold, all.
+
+"He went back to his little hut in the forest feeling very unhappy. His
+wife kissed him on his return, and his children gathered around him to
+hear him tell the adventures of the day, but his downcast spirit made
+them all sad.
+
+"'What has happened?' asked his wife. 'You always seemed happy until
+to-night.'
+
+"'And I was always happy until to-day. But I have seen the world to-day,
+and now I want that which will buy everything.'
+
+"'And what is that?' asked his wife.
+
+"'Listen! It sounds like that,' and he struck his clasped hands on his
+knee--chink, chink, chink. 'If I had that, I would bring to you and the
+little ones the fine things I saw in the city, and you would be happy.
+You are contented now because you do not know.'
+
+"'But I would rather that you would bring to me a happy face and loving
+heart,' said his wife. 'You know that the Book says that "a man's life
+consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Love
+makes happiness, and gold is in the heart.'
+
+"The forester continued to be sad. He would sit outside of his door at
+early evening and pound his hands upon his knees so--chink, chink,
+chink--and think of the gay city. Then he would strike his hands on his
+knees again. He did not know that it was fool's gold, all.
+
+"He grew more and more discontented with his simple lot. One day he went
+out into the forest alone to cut wood. When he had become tired he sat
+down by a running stream to hear the birds sing and to strike his hands
+on his knees.
+
+"A shadow came gliding across the mosses of the stream. It was like the
+form of a dark man. Slowly it came on, and as it did so the flowers on
+the banks of the stream withered. The woodman looked up, and a black
+giant stood before him.
+
+"'You look unhappy to-day,' said the black giant. 'You did not use to
+look that way. What is wanting?'
+
+"The woodman looked down, clasped his hands, and struck them on his
+knees--chink, chink, chink.
+
+"'Ah, I see--money! The world all wants money. Selfishness could not
+thrive without money. I will give you all the money that you want, on
+one condition.'
+
+"'Name it.'
+
+"'That you will exchange your heart.'
+
+"'What will you give me for my heart?'
+
+"'Your heart is a human heart, a very simple human heart. I will put in
+its place a heart of stone, and then all your wishes shall turn to gold.
+Whatever you wish you shall have.'
+
+"'Shall I be happy?'
+
+"'Happy! Ha, ha, ha! are not people happy who have their wishes?'
+
+"'Some are, and some are happy who give up their wishes and wills and
+desires."
+
+"The woodman leaned his face upon his hands for a while, seemed in
+great doubt and distress. He thought of his wife, who used to say that
+contentment was happiness, and that one could be rich by having a few
+wants. Then he thought of the city. The vision rose before him like a
+Vanity Fair. He clasped his hands again, and struck them on his
+knees--chink, chink, chink--and said, 'I will do it.'
+
+"Suddenly he felt a heart within him as cold as stone. He looked up to
+the giant, and saw that he held his own good, true heart in his hands.
+
+"'I will put it away in a glass jar in my house,' he said, 'where I keep
+the hearts of the rich. Now, listen. You have only to strike your locked
+hands on your knees three times--chink, chink, chink--whenever you want
+for gold, and wish, and you will find your pockets full of money.'
+
+"The woodman struck his palms on his knees and wished, then felt in his
+pockets. Sure enough, his pockets were full of gold.
+
+"He thought of his wife, but his thought was a cold one; he did not love
+her any more. He thought of his little ones, but his thoughts were
+frozen; he did not care to meet them any more. He thought of his
+parents, but he only wished to meet them to excite their envy. The
+stream no longer charmed him, nor the flowers, nor the birds, nor
+anything.
+
+"'I will dissemble,' he said. He hurried home. His wife met him at the
+door. He kissed her. She started back, and said:
+
+"'Your lips are cold as death! What has happened?'
+
+"His children kissed him, but they said:
+
+"'Father, your cheeks are cold.'
+
+"He tried to pray at the meal, but his sense of God was gone; he did not
+love God, or his wife, or his children, or anything any more--he had a
+stone-cold heart.
+
+"After the evening meal he told his wife the events of the day. She
+listened with horror.
+
+"'In parting with your heart you have parted with everything that makes
+life worth having,' said she. But he answered:
+
+"'I do not care. I do not care for anything but gold now. I have a
+stone-cold heart.'
+
+"'But will gold make you happy?' she asked.
+
+"He started. He went forth to work the next day, but he was not happy.
+So day by day passed. His gold did not make his family happy, or his
+friends, or any one, but he would not have cared for all these, for he
+had a stone-cold heart. Had it made him happy? He saw the world all
+happy around him, and heavier and heavier grew his heart, and at last he
+could endure it no longer.
+
+"One day he was sitting in the same place in the woods as before, when
+he saw the shadowy figure stealing along the mosses of the stream again.
+He looked up and beheld the giant, and exclaimed:
+
+"'Give me back my heart!'"
+
+"Have you learned the lesson?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE INDIAN PLOT.
+
+
+One sultry August night a party of Sac and Fox Indians were encamped in
+a grove of oaks opposite Rock Island, on the western side of the
+Mississippi. Among them were Main-Pogue and Waubeno.
+
+The encampment commanded a view of the burial hills and bluffs of the
+abandoned Sac village.
+
+As the shadow of night stole over the warm, glimmering twilight, and the
+stars came out, the lights in the settlers' cabins began to shine; and
+as the Indians saw them one by one, their old resentment against the
+settlers rose and bitter words passed, and an old warrior stood up to
+rehearse his memories of the injustice that his race had suffered in the
+old treaties and the late war.
+
+"Look," he said, "at the eyes of the cabins that gleam from yonder
+shore. The waters roll dark under them, but the lights of the canoes no
+more haunt the rapids, and the women and children may no more sit down
+by the graves of the braves of old. Our lights have gone out; their
+lights shine. Their lights shine on the bluffs, and they twinkle like
+fireflies along the prairies, and climb the cliffs in what was once the
+Red Man's Paradise. Like the fireflies to the night the white settlers
+came.
+
+"Rise up and look down into the water. There--where the stream runs
+dark--they shot our starving women there, for crossing the river to
+harvest their own corn.
+
+"Look again--there where the first star shines. She, the wife of Wabono,
+floated there dead, with the babe on her breast. Here is the son of
+Wabono.
+
+"Son of Wabono, you ride the pony like the winds. What are you going to
+do to avenge your mother? You have nourished the babe; you are good and
+brave; but the moons rise and fall, and the lights grow many on the
+prairie, and the smoke-wreaths many along the shore. Speak, son of
+Wabono."
+
+A tall boy arose, dressed in yellow skins and painted and plumed.
+
+"Father, it is long since the rain fell."
+
+"Long."
+
+"And the prairies are yellow."
+
+"Yellow."
+
+"And they are food for fire."
+
+"Food for fire."
+
+"I would touch them with fire--in the east, in the west, in the north,
+and in the south. The lights will go out in the cabins, and the white
+woman will wander homeless, and the white man will hunger for corn. They
+shot our people for harvesting our corn. I would give their corn-fields
+to the flames, and their families to the famine in the moons of
+storms."
+
+"Waubeno, you have heard Wabono. What would _you_ do?"
+
+"I would punish those only who have done wrong. The white teacher taught
+so, and the white teacher was right."
+
+"Waubeno, you speak like a woman."
+
+"Those people should not suffer for what others have done. You should
+not be made to bear the punishments of others."
+
+"Would you not fire the prairies?"
+
+"No. I may have friends there. The Tunker may be there. He who spared
+Main-Pogue may be there. Would I burn their cabins? No!"
+
+"Waubeno, who was your father?"
+
+"I am the son of Alknomook."
+
+"He died."
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"There was neither pity nor mercy in the white man's heart for him. You
+made your vow to him. What was that vow, Waubeno?"
+
+"To avenge his enemies--not our friends."
+
+"Brothers, listen. The white men grow many, and we are few. In war we
+are helpless--only one weapon remains to us now. It is the
+thunderbolt--it is fire.
+
+"Warriors, listen. The moon grows. Who of you will cross the river and
+ride once more into the Red Man's Paradise, and give the prairies to the
+flames? The torch is all that is left us now."
+
+Every Indian raised his arm except Main-Pogue and Waubeno, and signified
+his desire to unite in the plan for the desolation of the prairies.
+
+"Main-Pogue, will you carry your torch in the night of fire?"
+
+"I have been saved by the hand of a white man, and I will not turn my
+hand against the white man. I could not do it if I were young. But I am
+old--my people are gone. Leave me to fall like the leaf."
+
+"Son of Alknomook, what will you do?"
+
+"I will follow your counsel for my father's sake, but I will spare my
+friends for the sake of the arm that was stretched out over the head of
+Main-Pogue."
+
+"Then you will go."
+
+"I would that I were dead. I would that I could live as the white
+teacher taught me--in peace with every one. I would that I had not this
+blood of fire, and this memory of darkness, and this vow upon my head.
+The white teacher taught me that all people were brothers. My brain
+burns--"
+
+Late in the evening Waubeno went to Main-Pogue and sat down by his side
+under the trees. The river lay before them with its green islands and
+rapid currents, serene and beautiful. The lights had gone out on the
+other shore, and the world seemed strangely voiceless and still.
+
+"How did _he_ look, Waubeno?"
+
+"Who look?"
+
+"That man who saved you--stretched his arm over you."
+
+"His arm was long. His face was as sad as an Indian's; and he was tall.
+He was a head taller than other men; he rose over them like an oak over
+the trees. The men laughed at him; then his face looked as though it was
+set against the people--he looked like a chief--and the men cowered,
+and jeered, and cowered. I can see how he looked, but I can not tell
+it--I can see it in my mind. I told him that I would tell Waubeno, and
+he seemed to know your name. Did you never meet such a man?"
+
+"Yes, in the Indiana country. He was journeyed from the Wabash."
+
+The Indians, after the council we have described, began to cross the
+Mississippi by night, and to make stealthy journeys into the Rock River
+country, once known as the Red Man's Paradise. Rock River is a beautiful
+stream of the prairies. It comes dashing out of a bed of rocks, and runs
+a distance of some two hundred miles to the Mississippi. Here once
+roamed the deer and came the wild cattle in herds. Here rose great
+cliffs, like ruins of castles, which were then, as now, cities of the
+swallows. Eagles built their nests upon them, and wheeled from over the
+flowers of the prairies. The banks in summer were lined with wild
+strawberries and wild sunflowers. Here and there were natural mounds and
+park-like woods, and oaks whose arms were tangled with grapevines.
+
+Into this country ran Black Hawk's trail, and not far from this trail
+was Prairie Island, with its happy settlers and new school. The German
+school-master might well love the place. Margaret Fuller (Countess
+Ossoli) came to the region in 1843, and caught its atmosphere and
+breathed it forth in her Summer in the Lakes. Here, in this territory of
+the Red Man's Paradise, "to me enchanting beyond any I have ever seen,"
+where "you have only to turn up the sod to find arrow-heads," she
+visited the bluff of the Eagles' Nest on the morning of the Fourth of
+July, and there wrote "Ganymede to his Eagle," one of her grandest
+poems.
+
+"How happy," says this gifted soul, "the Indians must have been here! I
+do believe Rome and Florence are suburbs compared to this capital of
+Nature's art."
+
+Black Hawk's trail ran from this region of perfect beauty to the
+Mississippi; and long after the Sacs and Foxes were compelled to live
+beyond the Mississippi, the remnants of the tribes loved to return and
+visit the scenes of the land of their fathers.
+
+The Indians who had plotted the firing of the prairies made two stealthy
+journeys along the Rock River and over the old trail under the August
+moon. In one of these they rode round Prairie Island, and encamped one
+night upon the bluff of the Eagles' Nest, under the moon and stars.
+Waubeno went with them, and gazed with sad eyes upon the scenes that had
+passed forever from the control of his people.
+
+He saw the new cabins and corn-fields, the prairie wagons and the
+emigrants. One evening he passed Prairie Island, and saw the lights
+glimmering among the trees, and heard the singing of a hymn in the
+school-house, where the people had met to worship. He wished that his
+own people might be taught these better ways of living. He reined up his
+pony and listened to the singing. He wished that he might join the
+little company, though he did not know that Jasper was there.
+
+He rode away amid the stacks and corn-fields. He saw that the fields
+were dry as powder.
+
+Out on the prairie he turned and looked back on the lights of the
+settlement as they glimmered among the trees. Could he apply the torch
+to the dry sea of grasses around the peaceful homes?
+
+Once, revenge would have made it a delight to his eyes to see such a
+settlement in flames. But Jasper's teaching had created a new view of
+life and a new conscience. He felt what the Tunker taught was true, and
+that the young soldier who had spared Main-Pogue had done a nobler deed
+than any act of revenge. What was that young man's motive? He pondered
+over these things, and gave his pony a loose rein, and rode on under the
+cool cover of the night under the moon and stars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+FOR LINCOLN'S SAKE.
+
+
+"The prairie is on fire!" So cried a horseman, as he rode by the school.
+
+It was a calm, glimmering September day. Prairie Island rose with red
+and yellow and crisping leaves, like a royal tent amid a dead sea of
+flowers. The prairie grass was dry, though still mingled with a green
+undergrowth. Prairie chickens were everywhere, quails, and plover.
+
+At midday a billowy cloud of smoke began to wall the eastern horizon,
+and it slowly rolled forward, driven by the current of the air.
+
+"O-o-oh!" said one of the scholars! "Look! look! What the man said is
+true--the prairie _is_ on fire!"
+
+Jasper went to the door. The blue sky had turned to an ashy hue, and the
+sun was a dull red. An unnatural wind had arisen like a draft of air.
+
+"Teacher, can we go out and look?" asked several voices.
+
+"Yes," said Jasper, "the school may take a recess."
+
+The pupils went to the verge of the trees, and watched the billowy
+columns of smoke in the distance.
+
+The world seemed to change. The air filled with flocks of frightened
+birds. The sky became veiled, and the sun was as red as blood.
+
+Since the great snow of 1830 but few buffaloes had been seen on the
+prairie. But a dark cloud of flesh came bounding over the prairie grass,
+bellowing, with low heads and erect tails. The children thought that
+they were cattle at first, but they were buffaloes. They rushed toward
+the trees of Prairie Island, turned, and looked behind. Then the leader
+pawed the earth, and the herd rushed on toward the north.
+
+The fire spread in a semicircle, and seemed to create a wind which
+impelled it on with resistless fury.
+
+"O-o-oh, look! look!" exclaimed another scholar. "See the horses and the
+cattle--droves of them! Look at the sky--see the birds!"
+
+There were droves of cattle hurrying in every direction. The men in the
+fields near Prairie Island came hurrying home.
+
+"The prairie is on fire!" said each one, not knowing what else to say.
+
+"Will it reach us?" asked Jasper of the harvesters.
+
+"What is to hinder it? The wind is driving it this way. It has formed a
+wall of fire that almost surrounds us."
+
+"What can we do?" asked Jasper. The harvesters considered.
+
+"We are safer here than elsewhere, let what will come," said one. "If
+the fire sweeps the prairie, it would overtake us before we could get to
+any great river, and the small creeks are dry."
+
+The afternoon grew darker and darker. The sun went out; under the black
+smoke rolled a red sea whose waves grew nearer and nearer. The children
+began to cry and the women to pray. An old man came hobbling out to the
+arch of the trees.
+
+"I foretold it," said he. "The world is on fire. The Day of Judgment has
+come! A time and times time, and a half."
+
+He had been a Millerite.
+
+"It will be here in an hour," said a harvester.
+
+But there arose a counter-wind. The wall of fire seemed to be stayed.
+The smoke columns rose to the heavens like Babel towers.
+
+Afar, families were seen fleeing on horseback toward the bed of a creek
+which they hoped to find flowing, but which had run dry.
+
+"This is awful!" said Jasper. "It looks as though the heavens were in
+flames."
+
+He shaded his hands and looked into the open space.
+
+"What is that?" he asked.
+
+A black horse came running toward the island, bounding through the grass
+as though impelled by spurs. As he leered, Jasper saw the form of a
+human being stretched at his side. Was the form an Indian?
+
+On came the horse. He leered again, exposing to view a yellow body and a
+plumed head.
+
+"It's an Indian," said Jasper.
+
+The fire flattened and darkened for a time, and then rolled on again.
+Animals were fleeing everywhere, plunging and bellowing, and the air was
+wild and tempestuous with the cries of birds. The little animals could
+be seen leaping out of the prairie grass. The earth, air, and sky
+seemed alive with terror.
+
+The black horse came plunging toward the island.
+
+"How can a horse run that way and live?" asked Jasper. "He is bearing a
+messenger. It is friendly or hostile Indian that is clinging to his
+side."
+
+Jasper bent his eyes on the plunging animal to see him leer, for
+whenever the sidling motion was made it brought to view the tawny
+horizontal form that seemed to be clinging to the bridle, as if riding
+for life. Suddenly there arose a cry from the islanders:
+
+"Look! look! Who has done it? There is a counter-fire ahead. _They_ will
+all perish!"
+
+A mile or more in front of the island, and in the opposite direction
+from the other fire, another great billow of smoke arose spirally into
+the air. The people and animals who had been fleeing toward the creek,
+which they thought contained water, but which was dry, all turned and
+came running toward the island grove. Even the birds came beating back.
+
+"_That_ fire was set by the Indians," said the harvesters. "It is
+started across the track of the other fire to destroy us all. An Indian
+set the fires."
+
+"That is an Indian skirting around us on the back of a horse," said
+another. "He is holding on to the horse by the mane with his hands, and
+by the flanks with his feet. The Indians have done this!"
+
+"The other fire will run back, though against the wind. The prairie is
+so dry that the fire will run everywhere. We must set a counter-fire."
+
+"Set a counter-fire!" exclaimed many voices.
+
+The purpose of the counter-fire was to destroy the dry grass, so that
+when the other fires should reach the place it would find nothing to
+burn.
+
+"But the people!" said Jasper. "See them! They are hurrying here; a
+counter-fire would drive them away!"
+
+An awful scene followed. Horses, cattle, animals of many kinds came
+panting to the island. Many of them had been fleeing for miles, and sank
+down under the trees as if ready to perish. There was one enormous bison
+among them. The tops of the trees were filled with birds, cawing and
+uttering a chaos of cries. The air seemed to rain birds, and the earth
+to pour forth animals. The sky above turned to inky blackness. Men,
+women, and children came rushing into the trees from every direction,
+some crying on Heaven for mercy, some begging for water, all of them
+exhausted and seemingly ready to die. The island grove was like a great
+funeral pyre.
+
+Jasper lifted his hands and called the school and the people around him,
+knelt down, and prayed for help amid the cries of distress that rose on
+every hand. He then looked for the black horse and the plumed rider
+again.
+
+They were drawing near in the darkening air. The figure of the rider was
+more distinct. The people saw it, and cried, "An Indian!" Some said, "It
+is a scout!" and others, "It is he who set the fire!"
+
+The wind rose and changed, caused by the heated air in the distance. The
+currents ran hither and thither like drafts in a room of open doors. One
+of these unnatural drafts caused a new terror to spread among the people
+and animals and birds. It drew up into the air a great column of sparks
+and, scattered them through the open space, and a rain of fire filled
+the sky and descended upon the grove.
+
+[Illustration: THE APPROACH OF THE MYSTERIOUS INDIAN.]
+
+It was a splendid but terrible sight.
+
+"The end of all things is at hand," said the old Millerite. "The stars
+are beginning to fall."
+
+But the rain of fire lost its force as it neared the earth, and it fell
+in cinders and ashes.
+
+"An Indian! an Indian!" cried many voices.
+
+The black horse came plunging into near view, and rushed for the trees
+and sank down with foaming sides and mouth. The people shouted. There
+rolled from his side the lithe and supple form of a young Indian,
+plumed, and dressed in yellow buckskin. What did it mean? The Indian lay
+on the ground like one dead. The people gathered around him, and Jasper
+came to him and bent over him, and parted the black hair from his face.
+Suddenly Jasper started back and uttered a cry.
+
+"What is it?" asked the people.
+
+"It is my old Indian guide--it is Waubeno. Bring him water, and we will
+revive him, and he will tell us what to do.--Waubeno! Waubeno!"
+
+The Indian seemed to know that voice. He revived, and looked around him,
+and stared at the people.
+
+"Give him water," said Jasper.
+
+A boy brought a cup of water and offered it to the Indian. The latter
+started up, and cried:
+
+"Away! I am here to die among you. My tongue burns, but I did not come
+here to drink. I came here to die. The white man killed my father, and I
+have come back with the avengers, and we have brought with us the
+Judgment Day." He stood and listened to the cries of distress.
+
+"Hear the trees cry for help--all the birds of the prairie--but they cry
+for naught. My father hears them cry. The cry is sweet to his ears. He
+is waiting for me. We are all about to die. When the wheat-fields blaze
+and the stacks take fire, and the houses crackle, then we shall all die.
+So says Waubeno." He listened again.
+
+"Hear the earth cry--all the animals. My father hears--his soul hears.
+This is the day that I have carried in my soul. My spirit is in the
+fire."
+
+He listened again. The prairie roared with the hot air, the flames, and
+the clouds of smoke. There fell another rain of fire, and women shrieked
+for mercy, and children cried on their mothers' breasts.
+
+"Hear the people cry! I have waited for that cry for a hundred moons. I
+have paid my vow. We have kindled the fire of the anger of the
+heavens--it is coming. I will die with you like the son of a warrior.
+The souls of the warriors are gathering to see me die. I am Waubeno."
+
+The people pressed upon him, and glared at him.
+
+"He set the fire!" they cried. "The Indian fiend!"
+
+"I set the fire," he said; "I and Black Hawk's men. _They_ have escaped.
+I have done my work, and I want to die."
+
+Jasper lifted his hat, and with bared head stood forth in the view of
+the Indian.
+
+"Waubeno, do you want to see _me_ die?"
+
+He started with a cry of pain. His eyes burned.
+
+"My father--I did not know that you were here. Heaven pity Waubeno now!"
+
+"Waubeno, this is cruel!"
+
+"Cruel? This country was once called the Red Man's Paradise. Cruel? The
+white man made the red man drunk with fire-water, and made him sign a
+false treaty, and then drove him away. Cruel? Think of the women the
+whites shot in the river for coming back to their own corn-fields
+starving to gather their own corn. Cruel? Why is the Red Man's Paradise
+no longer ours? Cruel? The Rock River flows for us no more; the spring
+brings the flowers to these prairies for us no more; the bluff rises in
+the summer sky, but the red man may no longer sit upon it. Cruel? Think
+how your people murdered my father. Is it more cruel for the Indian to
+do these things than for the white man to do them? You have emptied the
+Red Man's Paradise, and Waubeno has fulfilled the vow that he made to
+his father. The clouds are on fire. I would have saved you had I known,
+but you must perish with your people. I shall die with you. I am
+Waubeno. I am proud to be Waubeno. I am the avenger of my race.
+
+"But, white brother, listen. I tried to prevent it. I remembered your
+teaching, and I tried to prevent it by our council-fires over the
+Mississippi. Main-Pogue tried to prevent it. I thought of the man who
+saved him in the war, and I wondered who he was, and tried to prevent it
+for _his_ sake.
+
+"Then said they to me: 'We go to avenge the loss of our country, the Red
+Man's Paradise. The grass is feathers. We go to burn. Waubeno, remember
+your father's death. You are the son of Alknomook!'
+
+"White brother, I have come. I tried to prevent it, but this hand has
+obeyed the voice of my people. I have kindled the fires of the woe. The
+world is on fire. I tried to prevent it, but it has come."
+
+"Waubeno, do you remember _Lincoln_?"
+
+"Lincoln? The Indians killed his father's father. I have often thought
+of that. He said that he would do right by an Indian. I have thought of
+that. I love that man. I would die for such a man."
+
+"Waubeno, who saved the life of Main-Pogue?"
+
+"I don't know, father. I would die for _that man_."
+
+"Did Main-Pogue not tell you?"
+
+"He told me 'twas a white captain saved him. Is the white captain here?"
+
+"No. Waubeno, listen. That white captain was Lincoln."
+
+"Lincoln? Whose father's father the red man killed? Was it he who saved
+Main-Pogue? Lincoln? He forced his men to do right. He did himself
+harm."
+
+"Yes, he did himself harm to do right. Waubeno, do you remember your
+promise that you made to me? You said that you would never avenge the
+death of your father, if you could find one white man who would do
+himself harm for the sake of an Indian."
+
+Waubeno leaped upon his feet, and his black eye swept the clouds, and
+the circle of fire, and the distressed people on every hand.
+
+"Father, I can save you now. I know how. I will do it _for Lincoln's
+sake_.
+
+"Ho! ho!" he cried. "Kill me an ox, and Waubeno will save you. Kill me
+six oxen, and Waubeno will save you. Give me raw hides, and do as I do,
+and Waubeno will save you. Ho! ho! The gods have spoken to Waubeno. A
+voice comes from the sky to Waubeno. It has spoken here. Ho! ho!"
+
+He put his hand upon his heart, then rushed in among the oxen. A company
+of men followed him.
+
+He slew an ox with his knife, and quickly removed the hide. The people
+looked upon him with horror; they thought him demented. What was he
+doing? What was he going to do?
+
+He tied the great hide to his horse's neck, so that the raw side of it
+would drag flat upon the ground, and, turning to Jasper, he said:
+
+"That will smother fire. Ho! ho! How?"
+
+The fire was fast approaching some stacks of wheat on the edge of the
+settlement. Waubeno saw the peril, and leaped upon his horse.
+
+"Kill more cattle. Get more hides for Waubeno," he said.
+
+He rode away toward the stacks, guiding the horse in such a way that the
+raw hide swept the ground. The people watched him. He seemed to ride
+into the fire.
+
+"He is riding to death!" said the people. "He is mad!"
+
+But as he rode the fire was stayed, and a rim of black smoke rose in its
+stead. Near the stacks the fire stopped.
+
+"He is the Evil One himself," said the old Millerite. "That Indian boy
+is no human form."
+
+Out of the black came the horse plunging, bearing the boy, who waved his
+hands to the people. Then the horse plunged away, as though wild, toward
+the outer edge of the great sea of fire.
+
+The horse and rider rushed into the flames, and the same strange effects
+followed. The running flame and white cloud changed into black smoke,
+and the destruction was arrested.
+
+The people watched the boy as he rode half hidden in rolling smoke, his
+red plumes waving above the verge of the flaming sea. What a scene it
+was as he rode there, round and round, like the enchanted form of a more
+than human deliverer! But the effect of his movements at last ceased.
+
+"He is coming back," said the people.
+
+Out of the fire rushed the horse and rider toward the island grove
+again.
+
+"Give me new hides!" he cried, as, singed and blackened, he swept into
+the trees. "The hide is dead and shriveled. Give me new hides. Ho! ho!"
+
+New hides were provided by killing oxen. He tied two together like a
+carpet, with the raw side upon the earth. He attached them by a long
+rope to the horse's neck, and dashed forth again, crying:
+
+"Do the same, and follow me."
+
+The horse seemed maddened again. It flew toward the fire as if drawn by
+a spell, and plunged into it like a bather into the sea. Waubeno tried
+to deaden the fire in the whole circle. Round and round the island he
+rode, in the tide of the advancing flames. The people understood his
+method now, and the men secured new hides and attached them to horses,
+and followed him. He led them, crying and waving his hands. Round and
+round he led them, round and round, and where they rode the white smoke
+changed into black smoke and the fire died.
+
+The people secured raw hides by killing the poor cattle, and came out to
+the verge of the fiery sea and checked the progress of the flames in
+places. In the midst of the excitement a roll of thunder was heard in
+the sky.
+
+"'Tis the trumpet of doom," said the old Millerite.
+
+The people heard it with terror, and yet with hope. It might be an
+approaching shower. If it were, they were saved.
+
+The fire in front of them was checked. Not the great sea, but the
+current that was rolling toward the island grove. The fire at the north
+was rushing forward, but it moved backward toward the place slowly. The
+women began to soak blankets and clothing in water, and so prepared to
+help the men fight the flames. An hour passed. In the midst of the
+crisis the riding men, the hurrying women, the encircling fire, the
+billows of smoke, a flame came zigzagging down from the sky. The people
+stood still. Had the last day indeed come?
+
+Then followed a crash of thunder that shook the earth. The people fell
+upon their knees. The sky darkened, and great drops of rain began to
+fall.
+
+Waubeno had checked the current of the flame that would have destroyed
+the settlement in an hour, and had taught the men how to arrest an
+advancing tide of flame. The people began to have hope. All was now
+activity on the part of the people. Smoke filled the sky.
+
+"There is a cloud above the smoke," said many. "God will save us all."
+
+Waubeno came flying back again to the grove.
+
+"It thunders," he cried. "The Rain-god is coming. If I can keep back
+the fire an hour, the Rain-god will come. Hides! hides! Quick, more
+hides! Ho! ho!"
+
+New hides were provided, and he swept forth again.
+
+The island grove was now like a vast oven. The air was stifling. The
+animals laid down and rolled their tongues from their mouths. But the
+fire in front did not advance. It seemed deadened. The river of flame
+forked and ran in other directions, but it was stayed in front of the
+grove, houses, corn-fields, and stacks, and it was the hand that had set
+flames that had broken its force in the road to the settlements.
+
+There were sudden dashes of rain, and the smoke turned into blackness
+everywhere. Another flash of lightning smote the gloom, followed by a
+rattling of thunder that seemed as if the spirit of the storm was
+driving his chariot through the air. Then it poured as though a lake was
+coming down. In an hour the fire was dead. The cloud parted, the
+slanting sun came out, revealing a prairie as black as ink.
+
+The people fled to the shelter of the houses and sheds at the approach
+of the rain. The animals crowded under the trees, and the birds hid in
+the boughs. After the rain-burst the people gathered together again, and
+each one asked:
+
+"Where is the Indian boy?"
+
+He was not among them.
+
+Had he perished?
+
+A red sunset flamed over the prairies and the birds filled the tree-tops
+with the gladness of song. It seemed to all as if the earth and sky had
+come back again.
+
+In the glare of the sunset-fire a horse and rider were seen slowly
+approaching the island grove.
+
+"It is Waubeno," said one to the other. "The horse is disabled."
+
+The people went out to meet the Indian boy. The horse was burned and
+blind, and staggered as he came on. And the rider! He had drawn the
+flames into his vitals; he had been internally burned, and was dying.
+
+He reeled from his blind horse, and fell before the people. Jasper laid
+his hand upon him.
+
+"Father, I have drunk the cup of fire. I have kept my promise. I am
+about to die. The birds are happy. They are singing the death-song of
+Waubeno."
+
+His flesh quivered as he lay there, and Jasper bent over him in pity.
+
+"Waubeno, do you suffer?"
+
+"The stars do not complain, white brother. The clouded sun does not
+complain. The winds complain, and the waters, and women and children.
+Waubeno does not complain."
+
+A spasm shook his frame. It passed.
+
+"White brother, go beyond the Mississippi and teach my people. You do
+pity them. This was once their paradise. They loved it. They struggled.
+Go to them with the Book of God."
+
+"Waubeno, I will go."
+
+"The sun sets over the Mississippi. 'Tis sunset there. You will go to
+the land of the sunset?"
+
+"Yes, Waubeno. I feel in my heart the call to go. I love and pity your
+people."
+
+"Pour water upon me; I am burning. I shall go when the moon comes up,
+when the moon comes up into the shady sky. My father suffered, but he
+did not complain. Waubeno does not complain. Don't pity me. Pity my poor
+people. I love my people. Teach my people, and cover me forever with a
+blanket of the earth."
+
+He lay on the cool grass under the trees for several hours in terrible
+agony, and the people watched by his side.
+
+"When the moon rises," he said, "I shall go. I shall never see the Red
+Man's Paradise again. Tell me when the moon rises. I am going to sleep
+now."
+
+The great moon rose at last, its disk hanging like a wheel of dead gold
+on the verge of the horizon in the smoky air.
+
+"Waubeno," said Jasper, "the moon is rising."
+
+He opened his eyes, and said:
+
+"We kindled the fire for our fathers' sake, and I smote it for him who
+protected Main-Pogue. What was his name, father? Say it to me."
+
+"Lincoln."
+
+"Yes, Lincoln. He had come for revenge, but he did what was right. He
+forgave. I forgive everybody. I drank the fire for Lincoln's sake."
+
+The moon burned along the sky; the stars came out; and at midnight all
+was still. Waubeno lay dead under the trees, and the people with timid
+steps vanished hither and thither into the cabins and sheds.
+
+They killed the poor blind horse in the morning, and laid Waubeno to
+rest in a blanket, in a grave under the trees.
+
+[Illustration: LINCOLN FAMILY RECORD,
+
+Written by Abraham Lincoln in his Father's Bible.
+
+_From original in possession of C. F. Gunther, Esq., Chicago._]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+"OUR LINCOLN IS THE MAN."
+
+
+Fifteen years have passed since the events described in the last
+chapter. It is the year 1860. A great political crisis is upon the
+country, and Abraham Lincoln has been selected to lead one great party
+of the people, because he had faith in the principle that right is
+might. The time came, as the Tunker had prophesied, when the people
+wanted a man of integrity for their leader--a man who had a heart that
+could be trusted. They elected him to the Legislature when he was almost
+a boy and had not decent clothes to wear. The young legislator walked
+over the prairies of Illinois to the Capitol to save the traveling fare.
+As a legislator he had faith that right is might, and was true to his
+convictions.
+
+"He has a heart that we can trust," said the people, and they sent him
+to Congress. He was true in Washington, as in Illinois.
+
+"He has a heart we can trust," said the people; "let us send him to the
+Senate."
+
+He failed of an election, but it was because his convictions of right
+were in advance of the public mind at the time; but he who is defeated
+for a principle, triumphs. The greatest victors are those who are
+vanquished in the cause of truth, justice, and right; for the cause
+lives, and they live in the cause that must prevail.
+
+Again the people wanted a leader--all the people who represented a great
+cause--and Illinois said to the people:
+
+"Make our Lincoln your leader; he has a heart that we can trust," and
+Lincoln was made the heart of the people in the great cause of human
+rights. Lincoln, who had defended the little animals of the woods.
+Lincoln, who had been true to his pioneer father, when the experience
+had cost him years of toilsome life. Lincoln, who had pitied the slave
+in the New Orleans market, and whose soul had cried to Heaven for the
+scales of Justice. Lincoln, who had protected the old Indian amid the
+gibes of his comrades. Lincoln, who had studied by pine-knots, made
+poetry on old shovels, and read law on lonely roads. Lincoln, who had
+had a kindly word and pleasant story for everybody, pitied everybody,
+loved everybody, and forgave everybody, and yet carried a sad heart.
+Lincoln, who had resolved that in law and politics he would do just
+right.
+
+John Hanks had brought some of the rails that the candidate for the
+presidency had split into the Convention of Illinois, and the rails that
+represented the hardships of pioneer life became the oriflamme of the
+leader from the prairies. He who is true to a nation is first true to
+his parents and home.
+
+That was an ever-to-be-remembered day when, in August, 1860, the people
+of the great West with one accord arranged to visit Abraham Lincoln, the
+candidate for the presidency, at Springfield, Illinois. Seventy
+thousand strangers poured into the prairie city. They came from Indiana,
+Iowa, and the lakes. Thousands came from Chicago. Men came in wagons,
+bringing their wives and children. They brought tents, camp-kettles, and
+coffee-pots. Says a graphic writer who saw the scene:
+
+"Every road leading to the city is crowded for twenty miles with
+vehicles. The weather is fine, and a little overwarm. Girls can dress in
+white, and bare their arms and necks without danger; the women can bring
+their children. Everything that was ever done at any other mass-meeting
+is done here. Locomotive-builders are making a boiler; blacksmiths are
+heating and hammering their irons; the iron-founders are molding their
+patterns; the rail-splitters are showing the people how Uncle Abe used
+to split rails; every other town has its wagon-load of thirty-one girls
+in white to represent the States; bands of music, numerous almost as
+those of McClellan on Arlington Heights in 1862, are playing; old men of
+the War of 1812, with their old wives, their children, grandchildren,
+and great-grandchildren, are here: making a procession of human beings,
+horses, and carriages not less than ten miles in length. And yet the
+procession might have left the town and the people would scarcely be
+missed.
+
+"There is an immense wigwam, with galleries like a theatre; but there
+are people enough not in the procession to fill a dozen like it. Half an
+hour is long enough to witness the moving panorama of men and women,
+horses, carriages, representatives of trades, mottoes, and burlesques,
+and listen to the bands."
+
+And among those who came to see the great procession, the
+rail-splitters, and the sights, were the Tunker from the Indian schools
+over the Mississippi, and Aunt Indiana from Indiana.
+
+There was a visitor from the East who became the hero of the great day.
+He is living now (1891) in Chelsea, Mass., near the Soldiers' Home, to
+which he often goes to sing, and is known there as "Father Locke." He
+was a natural minstrel, and songs of his, like "Down by the Sea," have
+been sung all over the world. One of his songs has moved thousands of
+hearts in sorrow, and pictures his own truly loving and beautiful soul:
+
+    "There's a fresh little mound near the willow,
+      Where at evening I wander and weep;
+    There's a dear vacant spot on my pillow,
+      Where a sweet little face used to sleep.
+    There were pretty blue eyes, but they slumber
+      In silence, beneath the dark mold,
+    And the little pet lamb of our number
+      Has gone to the heavenly fold."
+
+This man, with the approval of President Lincoln, went as a minstrel to
+the Army of the Potomac. We think that he was the only minstrel who
+followed our army, like the war-singers of old. In a book published for
+private use, entitled Three Years in Camp and Hospital, "Father Locke"
+thus tells the story of his interview with President Lincoln at the
+White House:
+
+"Giving his hand, and saying he recollected me, he asked what he could
+do for me.
+
+"'I want no office, Mr. President. I came to ask for one, but have
+changed my mind since coming into this house. When it comes to turning
+beggar, I shall shun the places where all the other beggars go. I am
+going to the army to sing for the soldiers, as the poets and balladists
+of old sang in war. Our soldiers must take as much interest in songs and
+singing as did those of ancient times. I only wished to shake hands with
+you, and obtain a letter of recommendation to the commanding officers,
+that they may receive and treat me kindly.'
+
+"'I will give you a letter with pleasure, but you do not need one; your
+singing will make you all right.'
+
+"On my rising to leave, he gave his hand, saying: 'God bless you; I am
+glad you do not want an office. Go to the army, and cheer the men around
+their camp-fires with your songs, remembering that a great man said,
+"Let me but make the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its
+laws."'"
+
+The President then told him how to secure a pass into the lines of the
+army, and the man went forth to write and to sing his inspirations, like
+a balladist of old.
+
+His songs were the delight of many camps of the Army of the Potomac in
+the first dark year of the war. They were sung in the camp, and they
+belonged to the inside army life, but were little known outside of the
+army. They are still fondly remembered by the veterans, and are sung at
+reunions and camp-fires.
+
+We give one of these songs and its original music here. It has the
+spirit of the time and the events, and every note is a pulse-beat:
+
+
+_We are Marching on to Richmond._
+
+WORDS AND MUSIC BY E. W. LOCKE.
+
+Published by the permission of the Composer.
+
+    1. Our knapsacks sling and blithely sing, We're marching on to
+    2. Our foes are near, their drums we hear, They're camped a-bout in
+
+    Rich-mond; With weap-ons bright, and hearts so light, We're
+    Rich-mond; With pick-ets out, to tell the route Our
+
+    march-ing on to Rich-mond; Each wea-ry mile with
+    Ar-my takes to Rich-mond; We've craft-y foes to
+
+    song be-guile, We're marching on to Richmond; The roads are
+    meet our blows, No doubt they'll fight for Richmond; The brave may
+
+    rough, but smooth e-nough To take us safe to Richmond.
+    die, but nev-er fly, We'll cut our way to Richmond.
+
+    CHORUS.
+
+    Then tramp a-way while the bu-gles play, We're
+    march-ing on to Rich-mond; Our flag shall gleam in the
+    morn-ing beam, From man-y a spire in Rich-mond.
+
+    3.
+
+    "But yesterday, in murderous fray,
+      While marching on to Richmond,
+    We parted here from comrades dear,
+      While marching on to Richmond;
+    With manly sighs and tearful eyes,
+      While marching on to Richmond,
+    We laid the braves in peaceful graves,
+      And started on to Richmond.
+
+    4.
+
+    "Our friends away are sad to-day,
+      Because we march to Richmond;
+    With loving fear they shrink to hear
+      About our march to Richmond;
+    The pen shall tell that they who fell
+      While marching on to Richmond,
+    Had hearts aglow and face to foe,
+      And died in sight of Richmond.
+
+    5.
+
+    "Our thoughts shall roam to scenes of home,
+      While marching on to Richmond;
+    The vacant chair that's waiting there,
+      While we march on to Richmond;
+    'Twill not be long till shout and song
+      We'll raise aloud in Richmond,
+    And war's rude blast will soon be past,
+      And we'll go home from Richmond."
+
+This song-writer had brought a song to the great Springfield assembly.
+He sang it when the people were in a receptive mood. It voiced their
+hearts, and its influence was electric. As he rose before the assembly
+on that August day under the prairie sun, and sang: "Hark! hark! a
+signal-gun is heard," a stillness came over the great sea of the people.
+The figures of the first verse filled the imagination, but the chorus
+was like a bugle-call:
+
+    "THE SHIP OF STATE.
+
+    "(Sung at the Springfield Convention.)
+
+    "Hark! hark! a signal-gun is heard,
+      Just out beyond the fort;
+    The good old Ship of State, my boys,
+      Is coming into port.
+    With shattered sails, and anchors gone,
+      I fear the rogues will strand her;
+    She carries now a sorry crew,
+      And needs a new commander.
+
+        "Our Lincoln is the man!
+        Our Lincoln is the man!
+          With a sturdy mate
+        From the Pine-Tree State,
+        Our Lincoln is the man!
+
+    "Four years ago she put to sea,
+      With prospects brightly beaming;
+    Her hull was strong, her sails new-bent,
+      And every pennant streaming;
+    She loved the gale, she plowed the waves,
+      Nor feared the deep's commotion;
+    Majestic, nobly on she sailed,
+      Proud mistress of the ocean.
+
+    "There's mutiny aboard the ship;
+      There's feud no force can smother;
+    Their blood is up to fever-heat;
+      They're cutting down each other.
+    Buchanan here, and Douglas there,
+      Are belching forth their thunder,
+    While cunning rogues are sly at work
+      In pocketing the plunder.
+
+    "Our ship is badly out of trim;
+      'Tis time to calk and grave her;
+    She's foul with stench of human gore;
+      They've turned her to a slaver.
+    She's cruised about from coast to coast,
+      The flying bondman hunting,
+    Until she's strained from stem to stern,
+      And lost her sails and bunting.
+
+        "Old Abram is the man!
+        Old Abram is the man!
+          And he'll trim her sails,
+          As he split the rails.
+        Old Abram is the man!
+
+    "We'll give her what repairs she needs--
+      A thorough overhauling;
+    Her sordid crew shall be dismissed,
+      To seek some honest calling.
+    Brave Lincoln soon shall take the helm,
+      On truth and right relying;
+    In calm or storm, in peace or war,
+      He'll keep her colors flying.
+
+        "Old Abram is the man!
+        Old Abram is the man!
+          With a sturdy mate
+          From the Pine-Tree State,
+        Old Abram is the man!"
+
+These words seem commonplace to-day, but they were trumpet-notes then.
+"Our Lincoln is the man!" trembled on every tongue, and a tumultuous
+applause arose that shook the air. The enthusiasm grew; the minstrel had
+voiced the people, and they would not let him stop singing. They finally
+mounted him on their shoulders and carried him about in triumph, like a
+victor bard of old. Ever rang the chorus from the lips of the people,
+"Our Lincoln is the man!" "Old Abram is the man!"
+
+Lincoln heard the song. He loved songs. One of his favorite songs was
+"Twenty Years ago." But this was the first time, probably, that he had
+heard himself sung. He was living at that time in the plain house in
+Springfield that has been made familiar by pictures. The song delighted
+him, but he, of all the thousands, was forbidden by his position to
+express his pleasure in the song. He would have liked to join with the
+multitudes in singing "Our Lincoln is the man!" had not the situation
+sealed his lips. But after the scene was over, and the great mass of
+people began to melt away, he sought the minstrel, and said:
+
+"Come to my room, and sing to me the song privately. _I_ want to hear
+you sing it."
+
+So he listened to it in private, while it was being borne over the
+prairies on tens of thousands of lips. Did he then dream that the
+nations would one day sing the song of his achievements, that his death
+would be tolled by the bells of all lands, and his dirge fill the
+churches of Christendom with tears? It may have been that his destiny in
+dim outline rose before him, for the events of his life were hurrying.
+
+Aunt Indiana was there, and she found the Tunker.
+
+"The land o' sakes and daisies!" she said. "That we should both be here!
+Well, elder, I give it up! I was agin Lincoln until I heard all the
+people a-singin' that song; then it came over me that I was doin' just
+what I hadn't ought to, and I began to sing 'Old Lincoln is the man!'
+just as though it had been a Methody hymn written by Wesley himself."
+
+"I am glad that you have changed your mind, and that I have lived to see
+my prophecy, that Lincoln would become the heart of the people,
+fulfilled."
+
+"Elder, I tell you what let's we do."
+
+"What, my good woman?"
+
+"Let's we each get a rail, and go down before Abe's winder, and I'll
+sing as loud as anybody:
+
+    "'Old Abram is the man!
+    Old Abram is the man!
+      And he'll trim her sails
+      As he split the rails.
+    Old Abram is the man!'
+
+I'll do it, if you will. I've been all wrong from the first. Why, even
+the Grigsbys are goin' to vote for him, and I'm goin' to do the right
+thing myself. Abe always had a human heart, and it is that which is the
+most human that leads off in this world."
+
+Aunt Indiana found a rail. The streets of Springfield were full of rails
+that the people had brought in honor of Lincoln's hard work on his
+father's barn in early Illinois. She also found a flag. Flags were as
+many as rails on this remarkable occasion. She set the flag into the top
+of the rail, and started for the street that led past Lincoln's door.
+
+"Come on, elder; we'll be a procession all by ourselves."
+
+The two arrived at the house where Lincoln lived, the Tunker in his
+buttonless gown, and Aunt Indiana with her corn-bonnet, printed shawl,
+rail, and flag. The procession of two came to a halt before the open
+window, and presently, framed in the open window, like a picture, the
+face of Abraham Lincoln appeared. That face lighted up as it fell upon
+Aunt Indiana.
+
+She made a low courtesy, and lifted the rail and the flag, and broke
+forth in a tone that would have led a camp-meeting:
+
+    "'Our Abram is the man!
+    Our Abram is the man!
+      With a sturdy mate
+      From the Pine-Tree State,
+    Our Abram is the man!'
+
+"Elder, you sing, and we'll go over it again."
+
+Aunt Indiana waved the flag and sang the refrain again, and said:
+
+"Abe Lincoln, I'm goin' to vote for ye, though I never thought I should.
+But you shall have my vote with all the rest.--Lawdy sakes and daisies,
+elder--I forgot; I can't vote, can I? I'm just a woman. I've got all
+mixed up and carried away, but
+
+    "'Our Abram is the man!'"
+
+[Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
+
+_From a photograph by Alexander Hesler, Chicago, 1858._]
+
+Six years have passed. The gardens of Washington are bursting into
+bloom. The sky is purple under a clear sun. It is Wednesday morning, the
+19th of April, 1865.
+
+All the bells are tolling, and the whole city is robed in black. At
+eleven o'clock some sixty clergymen enter the White House, followed by
+the governors of the States. At noon comes the long procession of
+Government officers, followed by the diplomatic corps.
+
+In the sable rooms rises a dark catafalque, and in it lies a waxen face.
+
+Toll!--the bells of Washington, Georgetown, and Alexandria! Minute-guns
+boom. Around that dead face the representatives of the nation, and of
+all nations, pass, and tears fall like rain.
+
+A funeral car of flowers moves through the streets. Abraham Lincoln has
+done his work. He is on his journey back to the scenes of his childhood!
+The boy who defended the turtles, the man who stretched out his arm over
+the defenseless Indian in the Black Hawk War, and who freed the slave;
+the man of whom no one ever asked pity in vain--he is going back to the
+prairies, to sleep his eternal sleep among the violets.
+
+Toll! The bells of all the cities and towns of the loyal nation are
+tolling. In every principal church in all the land people have met to
+weep and to pray. Half-mast flags everywhere meet the breeze.
+
+They laid the body beneath the rotunda of the Capitol, amid the April
+flowers and broken magnolias.
+
+Then homeward--through Baltimore, robed in black; through Philadelphia,
+through New York, Cleveland, Indianapolis, and Chicago. The car rolls
+on, over flowers and under black flags, amid the tolling of the bells of
+cities and the bells of the simple country church-towers. All labor
+ceases. The whole people stop to wonder and to weep.
+
+The dirges cease. The muffled drums are still. The broken earth of the
+prairies is wrapped around the dead commoner, the fallen apostle of
+humanity, the universal brother of all who toil and struggle.
+
+The courts of Europe join in the lamentation. Never yet was a man wept
+like this man.
+
+His monument ennobles the world. He stands in eternal bronze in a
+hundred cities. And why? Because he had a heart to feel; because to him
+all men had been brothers of equal blood and birthright; and because he
+had had faith that "RIGHT MAKES MIGHT."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+AT THE LAST.
+
+
+From the magnolias to the Northern orchards, from the apple-blooms to
+the prairie violets! The casket was laid in the tomb. Twilight came; the
+multitudes had gone. It was ended now, and night was falling.
+
+Two forms stood beside the closed door of the tomb; one was an old,
+gray-haired woman, the other was a patriarchal-looking man.
+
+The woman's gray hairs blew about her white face like silver threads,
+and she pushed it back with her withered hand.
+
+"Sister Olive," said the old man, "_he_ loved others better than
+himself; and it is not this tomb, but the great heart of the world, that
+has taken him in. I felt that he was called. I felt it years ago."
+
+"Heaven forgive a poor old woman, elder! I misjudged that man. See
+here."
+
+She held up a bunch of half-withered prairie violets that she had
+carried about with her all the day, and then went and laid them on the
+tomb.
+
+"For Lincoln's sake! for Lincoln's sake!" she said, crying like a child.
+
+The two went away in the shadows, talking of all the past, and each has
+long slept under the violets of the prairies.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS.
+
+
+BOOKS BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.
+
+UNIFORM EDITION. EACH, 12MO, CLOTH, $1.50.
+
+
+_THE RED PATRIOT._ A Story of the American Revolution. Illustrated by B.
+West Clinedinst.
+
+     In this vivid account of a boy's part in great historical
+     events there is a leading actor, "the last of the
+     Susquehannocks," whose share in the hero's adventures has given
+     the title to the book.
+
+_THE WINDFALL_; _or, After the Flood_. Illustrated by B. West
+Clinedinst.
+
+     "Full of adventure and incident so well conceived and described
+     as to keep the reader in a continued state of absorbed
+     attention. It is the kind of book one wants to sit up nights to
+     finish."--_Springfield Union_.
+
+_CHRIS, THE MODEL-MAKER._ A Story of New York. With 6 full-page
+Illustrations by B. West Clinedinst.
+
+     "The girls as well as the boys will be certain to relish every
+     line of it. It is full of lively and likely adventure, is
+     wholesome in tone, and capitally illustrated."--_Philadelphia
+     Press_.
+
+_ON THE OLD FRONTIER._ With 10 full-page Illustrations.
+
+     "A capital story of life in the middle of the last century....
+     The characters introduced really live and talk, and the story
+     recommends itself not only to boys and girls, but to their
+     parents."--_New York Times_.
+
+_THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK._ With 11 full-page Illustrations and colored
+Frontispiece.
+
+     "Young people who are interested in the ever-thrilling story of
+     the great rebellion will find in this romance a wonderfully
+     graphic picture of New York in war time."--_Boston Traveler_.
+
+_LITTLE SMOKE._ A Story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page
+Illustrations by F. S. Dellenbaugh, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red
+Cloud, and other chiefs, and 72 head and tail pieces representing the
+various implements and surroundings of Indian life.
+
+     "It is not only a story of adventure, but the volume abounds in
+     information concerning this most powerful of remaining Indian
+     tribes. The work of the author has been well supplemented by
+     the artist."--_Boston Traveler_.
+_ CROWDED OUT O' CROFIELD._ The story of a country boy who fought
+his way to success in the great metropolis. With 23 Illustrations by
+C. T. Hill.
+
+     "This excellent story teaches boys to be men, not prigs or
+     Indian hunters. If our boys would read more such books, and
+     less of the blood-and-thunder order, it would be rare good
+     fortune."--_Detroit Free Press_.
+
+
+GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS.
+
+_THE EXPLOITS OF MYLES STANDISH._ By HENRY JOHNSON (Muirhead Robertson),
+author of "From Scrooby to Plymouth Rock," etc. Illustrated. 12mo.
+Cloth, $1.50.
+
+     This story of the exploits of Myles Standish throws a clearer
+     light upon a heroic figure in our earliest history, and it has
+     an epic quality which will appeal to old and young. While the
+     facts of history are presented, the author has adroitly
+     reconstructed the little-known earlier years of Standish's
+     life, basing his imaginative work upon the probabilities of
+     history. The result is for the most part history told in the
+     form of a thrilling and absorbing story, a tale which includes
+     war and adventures, and also illustrates the sterling and
+     heroic qualities which contributed so powerfully to the
+     preservation of the Plymouth colony. The book is one to be read
+     by every young American.
+
+_CHRISTINE'S CAREER._ A Story for Girls. By PAULINE KING. Illustrated.
+12mo. Cloth, specially bound, $1.50.
+
+     The story is fresh and modern, relieved by incidents and
+     constant humor, and the lessons which are suggested are most
+     beneficial.
+
+_JOHN BOYD'S ADVENTURES._ By THOMAS W. KNOX, author of "The Boy
+Travelers," etc. With 12 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF._ By CHARLES F. HOLDER, joint author of
+"Elements of Zoology." With numerous Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_ENGLISHMAN'S HAVEN._ By W. J. GORDON, author of "The Captain-General,"
+etc. With 8 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_WE ALL._ A Story of Outdoor Life and Adventure in Arkansas. By OCTAVE
+THANET. With 12 full-page Illustrations by E. J. Austen and Others.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+_KING TOM AND THE RUNAWAYS._ By LOUIS PENDLETON. The experiences of two
+boys in the forests of Georgia. With 6 Illustrations by E. W. Kemble.
+12mo. Cloth, $1.50.
+
+D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
+
+
+Books by Hezekiah Butterworth.
+
+UNIFORM EDITION. Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
+
+True to his Home. _A Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin._
+
+Illustrated by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    "Mr. Butterworth's charming and suggestive story presents the
+    most interesting and picturesque episodes in the home life of
+    Franklin, as well as a narrative of the salient phases of his
+    public life. The author has succeeded most happily in carrying
+    out his plan of "story-telling education" based on Froebel's
+    principle that "life must be taught from life.""
+
+The Wampum; or, The Fairest Page of History. _A Tale of William Penn's
+Treaty with the Indians._ Illustrated by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    "Historic truth is the foundation of all the incidents in this
+    finely written, instructive, and wholly charming book. The
+    personality and character of William Penn are most admirably
+    treated, and his figure looms up to its noble proportions in the
+    historic perspective."--_Philadelphia Press._
+
+The Knight of Liberty. _A Tale of the Fortunes of Lafayette._ With 6
+full-page Illustrations.
+
+    "No better reading for the young man can be imagined than this
+    fascinating narrative of a noble figure on the canvas of
+    time."--_Boston Traveler._
+
+The Patriot Schoolmaster; _or, The Adventures of the Two Boston Cannon,
+the "Adams" and the "Hancock_." A Tale of the Minutemen and the Sons of
+Liberty. With Illustrations by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    The true spirit of the leaders in our War for Independence is
+    pictured in this dramatic story. It includes the Boston Tea
+    Party and Bunker Hill; and Adams, Hancock, Revere, and the boys
+    who bearded General Gage, are living characters in this romance
+    of American patriotism.
+
+The Boys of Greenway Court. _A story of the Early Years of Washington._
+With 10 full-page Illustrations by H. WINTHROP PEIRCE.
+
+    "Skillfully combining fact and fiction, he has given us a story
+    historically instructive and at the same time
+    entertaining."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+In the Boyhood of Lincoln. _A Story of the Black Hawk War and the Tunker
+Schoolmaster._ With 12 full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece.
+
+    "The author presents facts in a most attractive framework of
+    fiction, and imbues the whole with his peculiar humor. The
+    illustrations are numerous and of more than usual
+    excellence."--_New Haven Palladium._
+
+The Log School-House on the Columbia. With 13 full-page Illustrations by
+J. CARTER BEARD, E. J. AUSTEN, and Others.
+
+    "This book will charm all who turn its pages. There are few
+    books of popular information concerning the pioneers of the
+    great Northwest, and this one is worthy of sincere
+    praise."--_Seattle Post-Intelligencer._
+
+New York: D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 72 Fifth Avenue.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's In The Boyhood of Lincoln, by Hezekiah Butterworth
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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