A MAN FOR THE AGES

 By IRVING BACHELLER

 A STORY OF THE BUILDERS OF DEMOCRACY

 AUTHOR OF THE LIGHT IN THE CLEARING, KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE, ETC. 

 1919

TO MY DEAR FRIEND AND COMRADEALEXANDER GROSSET

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK INTOKEN OF MY ESTEEM

_Property is the fruit of labor; property is desirable; it is a positivegood in the world. That some should be rich shows that others may becomerich, and hence is just encouragement to industry and enterprise. Let nothim who is houseless pull down the house of another, but let him workdiligently and build one for himself, thus by example assuring that hisown shall be safe from violence when built. _

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. _March 21, 1864. _

A Letter

TO THE AGED AND HONORABLE JOSIAH TRAYLOR FROM HIS GRANDSON, A SOLDIER INFRANCE, WHEREIN THE MOTIVE AND INSPIRATION OF THIS NARRATIVE ARE BRIEFLYPRESENTED. 

_In France, September 10, 1915. _

Dear Grandfather:

At last I have got mine. I had been scampering towards the stars, like ajack-rabbit chased by barking greyhounds, when a shrapnel shell caught upwith me. It sneezed all over my poor bus, and threw some junk into me asif it thought me nothing better than a kind of waste basket. Seems as ifit had got tired of carrying its load and wanted to put it on me. Itsucceeded famously but I got home with the bus. Since then they have beentaking sinkers and fish hooks out me fit only for deep water. Don'tworry, I'm getting better fast. I shall play no more football and youwill not see me pitching curves and running bases again. No, I shall sitin the grandstand myself hereafter and there will not be so much of mebut I shall have quite a shuck on my soul for all that. I've done a lotof thinking since I have been lying on my back with nothing else to do. When your body gets kind of turned over in the ditch it's wonderful howyour mind begins to hustle around the place. Until this thing happened myintellect was nothing more than a vague rumor. I had heard of it, now andthen, in college, and I had hoped that it would look me up some time andask what it could do for me, but it didn't. These days I would scarcelybelieve that I have a body, the poor thing being upon the jacks in thisbig machine shop, but my small intellect is hopping all over the earthand back again and watching every move of these high-toned mechanics withtheir shiny tools and white aprons. My mind and I have kind of gotacquainted with each other and I'm getting attached to it. It is quite anenergetic, promising young mind and I don't know but I'll try to make apermanent place for it in my business. 

I've been thinking of our Democracy and of my coming over here to bechucked into this big jack pot as if my life were a small coin; of allthe dear old days of the past I have thought and chiefly how thewonderful story of your life has been woven into mine--threads of wisdomand adventure and humor and romance. I like to unravel it and look at thecolors. Lincoln is the strongest, longest thread in the fabric. Often Ithink of your description of the great, tender hands that lifted you tohis shoulder when you were a boy, of the droll and kindly things that hesaid to you. I have laughed and cried recalling those hours of yours withJack Kelso and Dr. John Allen and the rude young giant Abe, of which Ihave heard you tell so often as we sat in the firelight of a winterevening. Best of all I remember the light of your own wisdom as it glowedupon the story; how you found in Lincoln's words a prophecy of the greatstruggle that has come. Since I have been steering my imagination on itsswift, long flights into the past I have been able to recall the verywords you used: "Lincoln said that a house divided against itself mustfall--that our nation could not endure part slave and part free, and itwas true. Since then the world has grown incredibly small. The peoples ofthe earth have been drawn into one house and the affairs of each are theconcern of all. With a vain, boastful and unscrupulous degenerate on thethrone of Germany, it is likely to be a house divided against itself andI fear a greater struggle than the world has ever seen between the bondand the free. It will be a bloody contest but of its issue there can beno doubt because the friends of freedom are the children of light and aremany. They will lay all they have upon its altars. They will beunprepared and roughly handled for a time but their reserves of materialand moral strength which shall express themselves in ready sacrifice, arebeyond all calculation. Only one whose life spans the wide area fromAndrew Jackson to Woodrow Wilson and who has stood with Lincoln in hislonely tower and watched the flowing of the tides for three score yearsand ten, as I have, can be quite aware of the perils and resources ofDemocracy. "

All these and many other things which you have said to me, deargrandfather, have helped me to understand this great thunderous drama inwhich I have had a part. They have helped me to endure its perils andbitter defeats. It was you who saw clearly from the first that this wasthe final clash between the bond and the free--an effort of the greathouse of God to purge itself, and you urged me to go to Canada and enlistin the struggle. For this, too, I thank you. My wounds are dear to me, knowing, as you have made me know, that I have come well by them fightingnot in the interest of Great Britain or France or Russia, but in thecause of humanity. It is strange that among these men who are fightingwith me I have found only one or two who seem to have a vision of thewhole truth of this business. 

Now I come to the point of my letter. I have an enlistment to urge uponyou in the cause of humanity and there are no wounds to go with it. WhenI come home, as I shall be doing as soon as I am sufficiently mended, wemust go to work on the story of your life so that all who wish to do somay know it as I know it. Let us go to it with all the diaries that youand your father kept, aided by your memory, and give to the world itsfirst full view of the heart and soul of Lincoln. I have read all thebiographies and anecdotes of him and yet without the story as you tell ithe would have been a stranger to me. After this war, if I mistake not, Democracy will command the interest of all men. It will be the theme ofthemes. You tell me that we shall soon get into the struggle and turnthe scale. Well, if we do, we shall have to demonstrate a swiftness ofpreparation and a power in the field which will astonish the world, andwhen it is all over the world will want to know how this potent Democracyof ours came about. The one name--Lincoln--with the background of yourstory, especially the background, for the trouble with all thebiographies is a lack of background--will be the best answer we couldgive I think. Of course there are other answers, but, as there are fewwho dare to doubt, these days, that Lincoln is the greatest democratsince Jesus Christ, if we can only present your knowledge to the world weshould do well. Again the great crowd, whom you and I desire to enlightenif we can, do not read biography or history save under the compulsion ofthe schools, so let us try only to tell the moving story as you have toldit to me, with Lincoln striding across the scene or taking the center ofthe stage just as he was wont to do in your recollection of him. So wewill make them to know the giant of Democracy without trying. 

Duty calls. What is your answer? Please let me know by cable. MeanwhileI shall be thinking more about it. With love to all the family, from youraffectionate grandson, R. L. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

BOOK ONE

 I Which Describes the Journey of Samson Henry Traylor and His Wife and Their Two Children and Their Dog Sambo through the Adirondack Wilderness in 1831 on Their Way to the Land of Plenty, and Especially Their Adventures in Bear Valley and No Santa Claus Land. Furthermore, It Describes the Soaping of the Brimsteads and the Capture of the Veiled Bear

 II Wherein Is Recorded the Vivid Impression Made upon the Travelers by Their View of a Steam Engine and of the Famous Erie Canal. Wherein, Also, Is a Brief Account of Sundry Curious Characters Met on the Road and at a Celebration of the Fourth of July on the Big Waterway

 III Wherein the Reader Is Introduced to Offut's Store and His Clerk Abe, and the Scholar Jack Kelso and His Cabin and His Daughter Bim, and Gets a First Look at Lincoln

 IV Which Presents Other Log Cabin Folk and the First Steps in the Making of a New Home and Certain Incapacities of Abe

 V In Which the Character of Bim Kelso Flashes Out in a Strange Adventure that Begins the Weaving of a Long Thread of Romance

 VI Which Describes the Lonely Life in a Prairie Cabin and a Stirring Adventure on the Underground Railroad about the Time It Began Operations

 VII In Which Mr. Eliphalet Biggs Gets Acquainted with Bim Kelso and Her Father

 VIII Wherein Abe Makes Sundry Wise Remarks to the Boy Harry and Announces His Purpose to Be a Candidate for the Legislature at Kelso's Dinner Party

 IX In Which Bim Kelso Makes History, While Abe and Harry and Other Good Citizens of New Salem Are Making an Effort to that End in the Indian War

BOOK TWO

 X In Which Abe and Samson Wrestle and Some Raiders Come to Burn and Stay to Repent

 XI In Which Abe, Elected to the Legislature, Gives What Comfort He Can to Ann Rutledge in the Beginning of Her Sorrows. Also He Goes to Springfield for New Clothes and Is Astonished by Its Pomp and the Change in Eli

 XII Which Continues the Romance of Abe and Ann until the Former Leaves New Salem to Begin His Work in the Legislature. Also It Describes the Coloneling of Peter Lukins

 XIII Wherein the Route of the Underground Railroad Is Surveyed and Samson and Harry Spend a Night in the Home of Henry Brimstead and Hear Surprising Revelations, Confidentially Disclosed, and Are Charmed by the Personality of His Daughter Annabel

 XIV In Which Abe Returns from Vandalia and Is Engaged to Ann, and Three Interesting Slaves Arrive at the Home of Samson Traylor, Who, with Harry Needles, Has an Adventure of Much Importance on the Underground Road

 XV Wherein Harry and Abe Ride Up to Springdale and Visit Kelso's and Learn of the Curious Lonesomeness of Eliphalet Biggs

 XVI Wherein Young Mr. Lincoln Safely Passes Two Great Danger Points and Turns into the Highway of His Manhood

BOOK THREE

 XVII Wherein Young Mr. Lincoln Betrays Ignorance of Two Highly Important Subjects, in Consequence of Which He Begins to Suffer Serious Embarrassment

XVIII In Which Mr. Lincoln, Samson and Harry Take a Long Ride Together and the Latter Visit the Flourishing Little City of Chicago

 XIX Wherein Is One of the Many Private Panics Which Followed the Bursting of the Bubble of Speculation

 XX Which Tells of the Settling of Abe Lincoln and the Traylors in the Village of Springfield and of Samson's Second Visit to Chicago

 XXI Wherein a Remarkable School of Political Science Begins Its Sessions in the Rear of Joshua Speed's Store. Also at Samson's Fireside Honest Abe Talks of the Authority of the Law and the Right of Revolution, and Later Brings a Suit against Lionel Davis

 XXII Wherein Abe Lincoln Reveals His Method of Conducting a Lawsuit in the Case of Henry Brimstead et al. Vs. Lionel Davis

XXIII Which Presents the Pleasant Comedy of Individualism in the New Capital, and the Courtship of Lincoln and Mary Todd

 XXIV Which Describes a Pleasant Holiday and a Pretty Stratagem

 XXV Being a Brief Memoir by the Honorable and Venerable Man Known in These Pages as Josiah Traylor, Who Saw the Great Procession of Events between Andrew Jackson and Woodrow Wilson and Especially the Making and the End of Lincoln

A MAN FOR THE AGES

BOOK ONE

CHAPTER I

WHICH DESCRIBES THE JOURNEY OF SAMSON HENRY TRAYLOR AND HIS WIFE ANDTHEIR TWO CHILDREN AND THEIR DOG SAMBO THROUGH THE ADIRONDACK WILDERNESSIN 1831 ON THEIR WAY TO THE LAND OF PLENTY, AND ESPECIALLY THEIRADVENTURES IN BEAR VALLEY AND NO SANTA CLAUS LAND. FURTHERMORE, ITDESCRIBES THE SOAPING OF THE BRIMSTEADS AND THE CAPTURE OF THE VEILEDBEAR. 

In the early summer of 1831 Samson Traylor and his wife, Sarah, and twochildren left their old home near the village of Vergennes, Vermont, andbegan their travels toward the setting sun with four chairs, a breadboard and rolling-pin, a feather bed and blankets, a small looking-glass, a skillet, an axe, a pack basket with a pad of sole leather on the same, a water pail, a box of dishes, a tub of salt pork, a rifle, a teapot, asack of meal, sundry small provisions and a violin, in a double wagondrawn by oxen. It is a pleasure to note that they had a violin and werenot disposed to part with it. The reader must not overlook its fullhistoric significance. The stern, uncompromising spirit of the Puritanhad left the house of the Yankee before a violin could enter it. Humorand the love of play had preceded and cleared a way for it. Where therewas a fiddle there were cheerful hearts. A young black shepherd dog withtawny points and the name of Sambo followed the wagon or explored thefields and woods it passed. 

If we had been at the Congregational Church on Sunday we might have heardthe minister saying to Samson, after the service, that it was hard tounderstand why the happiest family in the parish and the most belovedshould be leaving its ancestral home to go to a far, new country of whichlittle was known. We might also have heard Samson answer:

"It's awful easy to be happy here. We slide along in the same old groove, that our fathers traveled, from Vergennes to Paradise. We work and playand go to meetin' and put a shin plaster in the box and grow old andnarrow and stingy and mean and go up to glory and are turned into saintsand angels. Maybe that's the best thing that could happen to us, butSarah and I kind o' thought we'd try a new starting place and anotherroute to Heaven. "

Then we might have seen the countenance of the minister assume a graveand troubled look. "Samson, you must not pull down the pillars of thistemple, " he said. 

"No, it has done too much for me. I love its faults even. But we havebeen called and must go. A great empire is growing up in the West. Wewant to see it; we want to help build it. "

The minister had acquired a sense of humor among those Yankees. Yearslater in his autobiography he tells how deeply the words of Samson hadimpressed him. He had answered:

"Think of us. I don't know what we shall do without your fun and themusic of your laugh at the pleasure parties. In addition to being thebest wrestler in the parish you are also its most able and sonorouslaugher. "

"Yes, Sarah and I have got the laughing habit. I guess we need a touchof misery to hold us down. But you will have other laughers. The seed hasbeen planted here and the soil is favorable. "

Samson knew many funny stories and could tell them well. His heart was asmerry as _The Fisher's Hornpipe_. He used to say that he got the violinto help him laugh, as he found his voice failing under the strain. 

Sarah and Samson had been raised on adjoining farms just out of thevillage. He had had little schooling, but his mind was active and wellinclined. Sarah had prosperous relatives in Boston and had had theadvantage of a year's schooling in that city. She was a comely girl ofa taste and refinement unusual in the place and time of her birth. Manywell favored youths had sought her hand, but, better than others, sheliked the big, masterful, good-natured, humorous Samson, crude as he was. Naturally in her hands his timber had undergone some planing andsmoothing and his thought had been gently led into new and pleasantways. Sarah's Uncle Rogers in Boston had kept them supplied with some ofthe best books and magazines of the time. These they had read aloud withkeen enjoyment. Moreover, they remembered what they read and cherishedand thought about it. 

Let us take a look at them as they slowly leave the village of theirbirth. The wagon is covered with tent cloth drawn over hickory arches. They are sitting on a seat overlooking the oxen in the wagon front. Tearsare streaming down the face of the woman. The man's head is bent. Hiselbows are resting on his knees; the hickory handle of his ox whip liesacross his lap, the lash at his feet. He seems to be looking down at hisboots, into the tops of which his trousers have been folded. He is arugged, blond, bearded man with kindly blue eyes and a rather prominentnose. There is a striking expression of power in the head and shouldersof Samson Traylor. The breadth of his back, the size of his wrists andhands, the color of his face betoken a man of great strength. Thisthoughtful, sorrowful attitude is the only evidence of emotion which hebetrays. In a few minutes he begins to whistle a lively tune. 

The boy Josiah--familiarly called Joe--sits beside his mother. He is aslender, sweet-faced lad. He is looking up wistfully at his mother. Thelittle girl Betsey sits between him and her father. That evening theystopped at the house of an old friend some miles up the dusty road tothe north. "Here we are--goin' west, " Samson shouted to the man at thedoor-step. 

He alighted and helped his family out of the wagon. "You go rightin--I'll take care o' the oxen, " said the man. 

Samson started for the house with the girl under one arm and the boyunder the other. A pleasant-faced woman greeted them with a heartywelcome at the door. 

"You poor man! Come right in, " she said. 

"Poor! I'm the richest man in the world, " said he. "Look at the gold onthat girl's head--curly, fine gold, too--the best there is. She'sBetsey--my little toy woman--half past seven years old--blue eyes--helpsher mother get tired every day. Here's my toy man Josiah--yes, brown hairand brown eyes like Sarah--heart o' gold--helps his mother, too--sixtimes one year old. "

"What pretty faces!" said the woman as she stooped and kissed them. 

"Yes, ma'am. Got 'em from the fairies, " Samson went on. "They have allkinds o' heads for little folks, an' I guess they color 'em up with theblood o' roses an' the gold o' buttercups an' the blue o' violets. Here'sthis wife o' mine. She's richer'n I am. She owns all of us. We're herslaves. "

"Looks as young as she did the day she was married--nine years ago, " saidthe woman. 

"Exactly!" Samson exclaimed. "Straight as an arrow and proud! I don'tblame her. She's got enough to make her proud I say. I fall in love againevery time I look into her big, brown eyes. "

The talk and laughter brought the dog into the house. 

"There's Sambo, our camp follower, " said Samson. "He likes us, one andall, but he often feels sorry for us because we can not feel the joy thatlies in buried bones and the smell of a liberty pole or a gate post. "

They had a joyous evening and a restful night with these old friends andresumed their journey soon after daylight. They ferried across the lakeat Burlington and fared away over the mountains and through the deepforest on the Chateaugay trail. 

Since the Pilgrims landed between the measureless waters and the pathlesswilderness they and their descendants had been surrounded by the lure ofmysteries. It filled the imagination of the young with gleams of goldenpromise. The love of adventure, the desire to explore the dark, infestedand beautiful forest, the dream of fruitful sunny lands cut with watercourses, shored with silver and strewn with gold beyond it--these werethe only heritage of their sons and daughters save the strength andcourage of the pioneer. How true was this dream of theirs gatheringdetail and allurement as it passed from sire to son! On distant plains tothe west were lands more lovely and fruitful than any of their vision; inmountains far beyond was gold enough to gild the dome of the heavens, asthe sun was wont to do at eventide, and silver enough to put a fairlyrespectable moon in it. Yet for generations their eyes were not to see, their hands were not to touch these things. They were only to push theirfrontier a little farther to the west and hold the dream and pass it onto their children. 

Those early years of the nineteenth century held the first days offulfillment. Samson and Sarah Traylor had the old dream in their heartswhen they first turned their faces to the West. For years Sarah hadresisted it, thinking of the hardships and perils in the way of themover. Samson, a man of twenty-nine when he set out from his old home, was said to be "always chasing the bird in the bush. " He was nevercontent with the thing in hand. There were certain of their friends whopromised to come and join them when, at last, they should have found theland of plenty. But most of the group that bade them good-by thought ita foolish enterprise and spoke lightly of Samson when they were gone. America has undervalued the brave souls who went west in wagons, withoutwhose sublime courage and endurance the plains would still be an unplowedwilderness. Often we hear them set down as seedy, shiftless dreamers whocould not make a living at home. They were mostly the best blood of theworld and the noblest of God's missionaries. Who does not honor themabove the thrifty, comfort loving men and women who preferred to stay athome, where risks were few, the supply of food sure and sufficient andthe consolations of friendship and religion always at hand. Samson andSarah preferred to enlist and take their places in the front battle lineof Civilization. They had read a little book called _The Country of theSangamon_. The latter was a word of the Pottawatomies meaning land ofplenty. It was the name of a river in Illinois draining "boundless, flowery meadows of unexampled beauty and fertility, belted with timber, blessed with shady groves, covered with game and mostly level, without astick or a stone to vex the plowman. " Thither they were bound to take upa section of government land. 

They stopped for a visit with Elisha Howard and his wife, old friendsof theirs, who lived in the village of Malone, which was in FranklinCounty, New York. There they traded their oxen for a team of horses. Theywere large gray horses named Pete and Colonel. The latter was fat andgood-natured. His chief interest in life was food. Pete was alwayslooking for food and perils. Colonel was the near horse. Now and thenSamson threw a sheepskin over his back and put the boy on it and trampedalong within arm's reach of Joe's left leg. This was a great delight tothe little lad. 

They proceeded at a better pace to the Black River country, toward which, in the village of Canton, they tarried again for a visit with CaptainMoody and Silas Wright, both of whom had taught school in the town ofVergennes. 

They proceeded through DeKalb, Richville and Gouverneur and Antwerp andon to the Sand Plains. They had gone far out of their way for a look atthese old friends of theirs. 

Every day the children would ask many questions, as they rode along, mainly about the beasts and birds in the dark shadows of the forestthrough which they passed. These were answered patiently by their fatherand mother and every answer led to other queries. 

"You're a funny pair, " said their father one day. "You have to turn overevery word we say to see what's under it. I used to be just like ye, usedto go out in the lot and tip over every stick and stone I could lift tosee the bugs and crickets run. You're always hopin' to see a bear or apanther or a fairy run out from under my remarks. "

"Wonder why we don't see no bears?" Joe asked. "'Cause they always see usfirst or hear us comin', " said his father. "If you're goin' to see ol'Uncle Bear ye got to pay the price of admission. "

"What's that?" Joe asked. 

"Got to go still and careful so you'll see him first. If this old wagondidn't talk so loud and would kind o' go on its tiptoes maybe we'd seehim. He don't like to be seen. Seems so he was kind o' shamed of himself, an' I wouldn't wonder if be was. He's done a lot o' things to be 'shamedof. "

"What's he done?" Joe asked. 

"Ketched sheep and pigs and fawns and run off with 'em. "

"What does he do with 'em?"

"Eats 'em up. Now you quit. Here's a lot o' rocks and mud and I got to'tend to business. You tackle yer mother and chase her up and down thehills a while and let me get my breath. "

Samson's diary tells how, at the top of the long, steep hills he used tocut a small tree by the roadside and tie its butt to the rear axle andhang on to its branches while his wife drove the team. This held theirload, making an effective brake. 

Traveling through the forest, as they had been doing for weeks, while theday waned, they looked for a brookside on which they could pass the nightwith water handy. Samson tethered, fed and watered their horses, andwhile Sarah and the children built a fire and made tea and biscuits, hewas getting bait and catching fish in the stream. 

"In a few minutes from the time I wet my hook a mess of trout would bedressed and sizzling, with a piece of salt pork, in the pan, or it was abad day for fishing, " he writes. 

After supper the wagon was partly unloaded, the feather bed laid upon theplanks under the wagon roof and spread with blankets. Then Samson sangsongs and told stories or played upon the violin to amuse the family. Theviolin invariably woke the birds in the tree-tops, and some, probablythrushes or warblers or white throated sparrows, began twittering. Nowand then one would express his view of the disturbance with a littlephrase of song. Often the player paused to hear these musical whispers"up in the gallery, " as he was wont to call it. 

Often if the others were weary and depressed he would dance merrilyaround the fire, playing a lively tune, with Sambo glad to lend a helpingfoot and much noise to the program. If mosquitos and flies weretroublesome Samson built smudges, filling their camp with the smokyincense of dead leaves, in which often the flavor of pine and balsam wasmingled. By and by the violin was put away and all knelt by the firewhile Sarah prayed aloud for protection through the night. So it will beseen that they carried with them their own little theater, church andhotel. 

Soon after darkness fell, Sarah and the children lay down for the night, while Samson stretched out with his blankets by the fire in good weather, the loaded musket and the dog Sambo lying beside him. Often the howlingof wolves in the distant forest kept them awake, and the dog mutteringand barking for hours. 

Samson woke the camp at daylight and a merry song was his reveille whilehe led the horses to their drink. 

"Have a good night?" Sarah would ask. 

"Perfect!" he was wont to answer. "But when the smudges went out themosquiters got to peckin' my face. "

"Mine feels like a pincushion, " Sarah would often answer. "Will you heatup a little water for us to wash with?"

"You better believe I will. Two more hedge hogs last night, but Samba let'em alone. "

Sambo had got his mouth sored by hedge hogs some time before and hadlearned better than to have any fuss with them. 

When they set out in the morning Samson was wont to say to the littlelad, who generally sat beside him: "Well, my boy, what's the good wordthis morning?" Whereupon Joe would say, parrot like:

"God help us all and make His face to shine upon us. "

"Well said!" his father would answer, and so the day's journey began. 

Often, near its end, they came to some lonely farmhouse. Always Samsonwould stop and go to the door to ask about the roads, followed by littleJoe and Betsey with secret hopes. One of these hopes was related tocookies and maple sugar and buttered bread and had been cherished sincean hour of good fortune early in the trip and encouraged by sundrygood-hearted women along the road. Another was the hope of seeing ababy--mainly, it should be said, the hope of Betsey. Joe's interest wasmerely an echo of hers. He regarded babies with an open mind, as it were, for the opinions of his sister still had some weight with him, she beinga year and a half older than he, but babies invariably disappointed him, their capabilities being so restricted. To be sure, they could make quitea noise, and the painter was said to imitate it, but since Joe hadlearned that they couldn't bite he had begun to lose respect for them. Still, not knowing what might happen, he always took a look at everybaby. 

The children were lifted out of the wagon to stretch their legs atsloughs and houses. They were sure to be close behind the legs of theirfather when he stood at a stranger's door. Then, the night being near, they were always invited to put their horses in the barn and tarry untilnext morning. This was due in part to the kindly look and voice ofSamson, but mostly to the wistful faces of the little children--a factunsuspected by their parents. What motherly heart could resist the silentappeal of children's faces or fail to understand it? Those were memorablenights for Sarah and Joe and Betsey. In a letter to her brother the womansaid:

"You don't know how good it seemed to see a woman and talk to her, and wetalked and talked until midnight, after all the rest were asleep. She letme hold the baby in my lap until it was put to bed. How good it felt tohave a little warm body in my arms again and feel it breathing! In all mylife I never saw a prettier baby. It felt good to be in a real house andsleep in a soft, warm bed and to eat jelly and cookies and fresh meat andpotatoes and bread and butter. Samson played for them and kept themlaughing with his stories until bedtime. They wouldn't take a cent andgave us a dozen eggs in a basket and a piece of venison when we wentaway. Their name is Sanford and I have promised to write to them. Theyare good Christian folks and they say that maybe they will join us in theland of plenty if we find it all we expect. "

They had two rainy, cold days, with a northeast wind blowing and deep mudin the roads. The children complained of the cold. After a few miles'travel they stopped at an old hunter's camp facing a great mossy rocknear the road. 

"Guess we'll stop here for a visit, " said Samson. 

"Who we goin' to visit?" Joe asked. 

"The trees and the fairies, " said his father. "Don't ye hear 'em askin'us to stop? They say the wind is blowin' bad an' that we'd better stopan' make some good weather. They offer us a house and a roof to cover itand some wood to burn. I guess we'll be able to make our own sunshine ina few minutes. "

Samson peeled some bark and repaired the roof and, with his flint andtinder and some fat pine, built a roaring fire against the rock and soonhad his family sitting, in its warm glow, under shelter. Near by wasanother rude framework of poles set in crotches partly covered with barkwhich, with a little repairing, made a sufficient shelter for Pete andColonel. Down by a little brook a few rods away he cut some balsams andreturned presently with his arms full of the fragrant boughs. These hedried in the heat of the fire and spread in a thick mat on the groundunder the lean-to. It was now warm with heat, reflected from the side ofthe great rock it faced. The light of the leaping flames fell upon thetravelers. 

"Ye see ye can make yer own weather and fill it with sunshine if ye onlyknow how, " said Samson, as he sat down and brushed a coal out of theashes and swiftly picked it up with his fingers and put it into the bowlof his clay pipe. "Mother and I read in a book that the wood was full o'sunlight all stored up and ready for us to use. Ye just set it afire andout comes the warm sunlight for days like this. God takes pretty goodcare of us--don't He?"

The heat of other fires had eaten away a few inches of the base of therock. Under its overhang some one had written with a black coal the words"Bear Valley Camp. " On this suggestion the children called for a bearstory, and lying back on the green mat of boughs, Samson told them of thegreat bear of Camel's Hump which his father had slain, and many othertales of the wilderness. 

They lived two days in this fragrant, delightful shelter until the stormhad passed and the last of their corn meal had been fed to the horses. They were never to forget the comfort and the grateful odors of theircamp in Bear Valley. 

On a warm, bright day in the sand country after the storm they came to acrude, half finished, frame house at the edge of a wide clearing. Thesand lay in drifts on one side of the road. It had evidently moved in thelast wind. A sickly vegetation covered the field. A ragged, barefootedman and three scrawny, ill clad children stood in the dooryard. It wasnoon-time. A mongrel dog, with a bit of the hound in him, came boundingand barking toward the wagon and pitched upon Sambo and quickly got theworst of it. Sambo, after much experience in self-defense, had learnedthat the best way out of such trouble was to seize a leg and hang on. This he did. The mongrel began to yelp. Samson lifted both dogs by thebacks of their necks, broke the hold of Sambo and tossed aside themongrel, who ran away whining. 

"That reminds me of a bull that tackled a man over in Vermont, " said he. "The man had a club in his hand. He dodged and grabbed the bull's tailand beat him all over the lot. As the bull roared, the man hollered:'I'd like to know who began this fuss anyway. '"

The stranger laughed. 

"Is that your house?" Samson asked. 

The man stepped nearer and answered in a low, confidential tone:

"Say, mister, this is a combination poorhouse and idiot asylum. I am theidiot. These are the poor. "

He pointed to the children. 

"You don't talk like an idiot, " said Samson. 

The man looked around and leaned over the wheel as if about to impart asecret. 

"Say, I'll tell ye, " he said in a low tone. "A real, first-class idiotnever does. You ought to see my actions. "

"This land is an indication that you're right, " Samson laughed. 

"It proves it, " the stranger whispered. 

"Have you any water here?" Samson asked. 

The stranger leaned nearer and said in his most confidential tone: "Say, mister, it's about the best in the United States. Right over yonder inthe edge o' the woods--a spring-cold as ice--Simon-pure water. 'Bout theonly thing this land'll raise is water. "

"This land looks to me about as valuable as so much sheet lightnin' andI guess it can move just about as quick, " said Samson. 

The stranger answered in a low tone: "Say, I'll tell ye, it's a wildcow--don't stand still long 'nough to give ye time to git anything out ofit. I've toiled and prayed, but it's hard to get much out of it. "

"Praying won't do this land any good, " Samson answered. "What it needsis manure and plenty of it. You can't raise anything here but fleas. Itisn't decent to expect God to help run a flea farm. He knows too much forthat, and if you keep it up He'll lose all respect for ye. If you were tobuy another farm and bring it here and put it down on top o' this one, you could probably make a living. I wouldn't like to live where the windcould dig my potatoes. "

Again the stranger leaned toward Samson and said in a half-whisper: "Say, mister, I wouldn't want you to mention it, but talkin' o' fleas, I'm likea dog with so many of 'em that he don't have time to eat. Somebody hasgot to soap him or he'll die. You see, I traded my farm over in Vermontfor five hundred acres o' this sheet lightnin', unsight an' unseen. Wewas all crazy to go West an' here we are. If it wasn't for the deer an'the fish I guess we'd 'a' starved to death long ago. "

"Where did ye come from?"

"Orwell, Vermont. "

"What's yer name?"

"Henry Brimstead, " the stranger whispered. 

"Son of Elijah Brimstead?"

"Yes, sir. "

Samson took his hand and shook it warmly. "Well, I declare!" heexclaimed. "Elijah Brimstead was a friend o' my father. "

"Who are you?" Brimstead asked. 

"I'm one o' the Traylors o' Vergennes. "

"My father used to buy cattle of Henry Traylor. "

"Henry was my father. Haven't you let 'em know about your bad luck?"

The man resumed his tone of confidence. "Say, I'll tell ye, " he answered. "A man that's as big a fool as I am ought not to advertise it. A brainthat has treated its owner as shameful as mine has treated me should becompelled to do its own thinkin' er die. I've invented some things thatmay sell. I've been hopin' my luck would turn. "

"It'll turn when you turn it, " Samson assured him. 

Brimstead thoughtfully scuffed the sand with his bare foot. In half amoment he stepped to the wheel and imparted this secret: "Say, mister, ifyou've any more doubt o' my mental condition, I'm goin' to tell ye thatthey've discovered valuable ore in my land two miles back o' this road, an' I'm hopin' to make a fortune. Don't that prove my case?"

"Any man that puts his faith in the bowels of the earth can have myvote, " said Samson. 

Brimstead leaned close to Samson's ear and said in a tone scarcelyaudible:

"My brother Robert has his own idiot asylum. It's a real handsome one an'he has made it pay, but I wouldn't swap with him. "

Samson smiled, remembering that Robert had a liquor store. "Look here, Henry Brimstead, we're hungry, " he said. "If ye furnish the water, we'llskirmish around for bread and give ye as good a dinner as ye ever had inyer life. "

Henry took the horses to his barn and watered and fed them. Then hebrought two pails of water from the spring. Meanwhile Samson starteda fire in a grove of small poplars by the roadside and began broilingvenison, and Sarah got out the bread board and the flour and therolling-pin and the teapot. As she waited for the water she called thethree strange children to her side. The oldest was a girl of thirteen, with a face uncommonly refined and attractive. In spite of her threadbareclothes, she had a neat and cleanly look and gentle manners. The youngestwas a boy of four. They were a pathetic trio. 

Joe had been telling them about Santa Claus and showing them a jack-knifewhich had come down the chimney in his pack at Christmas time anddescribing a dress of his mother's that had gold and silver buttonson it. The little six-year-old girl had asked him many questions abouthis mother and had stood for some moments looking up into Sarah's face. The girl timidly felt the dress and hair of the woman and touched herwedding ring. 

"Come and wash your faces and hands, " Joe demanded as soon as the watercame. 

This they did while he poured from a dipper. 

"Nice people always wash before they eat, " he reminded them. 

Then he showed them his bear stick, with the assurance that it had killeda hedge hog, omitting the unimportant fact that his father had wieldedit. The ferocity of hedge hogs was a subject on which he had largeinformation. He told how one of their party had come near getting hisskin sewed on a barn door. A hedge hog had come and asked Sambo if hewould have some needles. Sambo had never seen a hedge hog, so he saidthat he guessed he would. 

Then the hedge hog said: "Help yourself. "

Sambo went to take some and just got his face full of 'em so it lookedlike a head o' barley. They had to be took out with a pinchers or they'd'a' sewed his skin on to a barn door. That was their game. They tried tosew everybody's skin on a barn door. 

Every night the hedge hog came around and said: "Needles, needles, anybody want some needles. "

Now Sambo always answered: "No thank you, I've had enough. "

"Where's your mother?" Sarah asked of the ten-year-old girl. 

"Dead. Died when my little brother was born. "

"Who takes care of you?"

"Father and--God. Father says God does most of it. "

"Oh dear!" Sarah exclaimed, with a look of pity. 

They had a good dinner of fresh biscuit and honey and venison and eggsand tea. While they were eating Samson told Brimstead of the land ofplenty. 

After dinner, while Brimstead was bringing the team, one of his children, the blonde, pale, tattered little girl of six, climbed into the wagonseat and sat holding a small rag doll, which Sarah had given her. Whenthey were ready to go she stubbornly refused to get down. 

"I'm goin' away, " she said. "I'm goin' aw-a-ay off to find my mother. Idon't like this place. There ain't no Santa Claus here. I'm goin' away. "

She clung to the wagon seat and cried loudly when her father took herdown. 

"Ain't that enough to break a man's heart?" he said with a sorrowfullook. 

Then Samson turned to Brimstead and asked:

"Look here, Henry Brimstead, are you a drinking man? Honor bright now. "

"Never drink a thing but water and tea. "

"Do you know of anybody who'll give ye anything for what you own here?"

"There's a man in the next town who offered me three hundred and fiftydollars for my interest. "

"How far is it?"

"Three miles. "

"Come along with us and get the money if you can. I'll help ye fit up andgo where ye can earn a living. "

"I'd like to, but my horse is lame and I can't leave the children. "

"Put 'em right in this wagon and come on. If there's a livery in theplace, I'll send ye home. "

So the children rode in the wagon and Samson and Brimstead walked, whileSarah drove the team to the next village. There the good woman bought newclothes for the whole Brimstead family and Brimstead sold his interest inthe sand plains and bought a good pair of horses, with harness and somecloth for a wagon cover, and had fifty dollars in his pocket and a newlook in his face. He put his children on the backs of the horses and ledthem to his old home, with a sack of provisions on his shoulder. He wasto take the track of the Traylors next day and begin his journey to theshores of the Sangamon. 

Samson had asked about him in the village and learned that he was anhonest man who had suffered bad luck. A neighbor's wife had taken hischildren for two years, but bad health had compelled her to give them up. 

"God does the most of it, " Sarah quoted from the young girl, as they rodeon. "I guess He's saved 'em from the poorhouse to-day. I hope they'llketch up with us. I'd like to look after those children a little. Theyneed a mother so. "

"They'll ketch up all right, " said Samson. "We're loaded heavier thanthey'll be and goin' purty slow. They'll be leavin' No Santa Claus Landto-morrow mornin'. Seems so God spoke to me when that girl said therewa'n't no Santa Claus there. "

"No Santa Claus Land is a good name for it, " said Sarah. 

They got into a bad swale that afternoon and Samson had to cut somecorduroy to make a footing for team and wagon and do much prying with theend of a heavy pole under the front axle. By and by the horses pulledthem out. 

"When ol' Colonel bends his neck things have to move, even if he is up tohis belly in the mud, " said Samson. 

As the day waned they came to a river in the deep woods. It was anexquisite bit of forest with the bells of a hermit thrush ringing in oneof its towers. Their call and the low song of the river were the onlysounds in the silence. The glow of the setting sun which lighted thewestern windows of the forest had a color like that of the music-golden. Long shafts of it fell through the tree columns upon the road here andthere. Our weary travelers stopped on the rude plank bridge that crossedthe river. Odors of balsam and pine and tamarack came in a light, coolbreeze up the river valley. 

"It smells like Bear Valley, " said Sarah. 

"What was that poetry you learned for the church party?" Samson asked. 

"I guess the part of it you're thinking of is:

 'And west winds with musky wing Down the cedarn alleys fling 'Nard and Cassia's balmy smells. '"

"That's it, " said Samson. "I guess we'll stop at this tavern tillto-morrow. "

Joe was asleep and they laid him on the blankets until supper was ready. 

Soon after supper Samson shot a deer which had waded into the rapids. Fortunately, it made the opposite shore before it fell. All hands spentthat evening dressing the deer and jerking the best of the meat. Thisthey did by cutting the meat into strips about the size of a man's handand salting and laying it on a rack, some two feet above a slow fire, andcovering it with green boughs. The heat and smoke dried the meat in thecourse of two or three hours and gave it a fine flavor. Delicious beyondany kind of meat is venison treated in this manner. If kept dry, it willretain its flavor and its sweetness for a month or more. 

Samson was busy with this process long after the others had gone to bed. When it was nearly finished he left the meat on the rack, the firebeneath it having burned low, crossed the river to the wagon, got hisblanket, reloaded his gun and lay down to sleep with the dog beside him. 

Some hours later he was awakened by "a kind of a bull beller, " as hedescribed it. The dog ran barking across the river. Samson seized the gunand followed him. The first dim light of the morning showed through thetree-tops. Some big animal was growling and roaring and rolling over andover in a clump of bushes near the meat rack. In half a moment it rolledout upon the open ground near Samson. The latter could now see that itwas a large black bear engaged in a desperate struggle with the packbasket. The bear had forced his great head into the top of it and itshoop had got a firm hold on his neck. He was sniffing and growling andshaking his head and striking with both fore paws to free himself. Sambohad laid hold of his stub tail and the bear was trying in vain to reachhim, with the dog dodging as he held on. The movements of both were solively that Samson had to step like a dancer to keep clear of them. Thebear, in sore trouble, leaped toward him and the swaying basket touchedthe side of the man. Back into the bushes and out again they struggled, Sambo keeping his hold. A more curious and ludicrous sight nevergladdened the eye of a hunter. Samson had found it hard to get a chanceto shoot at the noisy, swift torrent of fur. Suddenly the bear rose onhis hind legs and let out an angry woof and gave the basket a terrificshaking. In this brief pause a ball from the rifle went to his heart andhe fell. Samson jumped forward, seized the dog's collar and pulled himaway while the bear struggled in his death throes. Then the man startedfor camp, while his great laugh woke distant echoes in the forest. 

"Bear steak for dinner!" he shouted to Sarah and the children, who stoodshivering with fright on the bridge. 

Again his laughter filled the woods with sound. 

"Gracious Peter! What in the world was it?" Sarah asked. 

"Well, ye see, ol' Uncle Bear came to steal our bacon an' the bacon kindo' stole him, " said Samson, between peals of laughter, the infection ofwhich went to the heart and lips of every member of the family. "Shovedhis head into the pack basket and the pack basket wouldn't let go. Itsaid: 'This is the first time I ever swallered a bear, an' if you don'tmind I'll stay on the outside. I kind o' like you. ' But the bear didmind. He didn't want to be et up by a basket. He'd always done theswallerin' himself an' he hollered an' swore at the basket an' tried toscare it off. Oh, I tell ye he was awful sassy and impudent to that oldthing, but it hung on and the way he flounced around, with Sambo clingin'to his tail, and the bear thinkin' that he was bein' swallered at bothends, was awful. Come an' see him. "

They went to the bear, now dead. Sambo ran ahead of them and laid hold ofthe bear's stump of a tail and shook it savagely, as if inclined to taketoo much credit upon himself. The hoop of the pack basket had so tight ahold upon the bear's neck that it took a strong pull to get it back overhis head. One side of the basket had been protected from the bear's clawsby a pad of sole leather--the side which, when the basket was in use, rested on the back of its carrier. His claws had cut nearly through itand torn a carrying strap into shreds. 

"I guess he'd 'a' tore off his veil if the dog had give him a little moretime, " said Samson. "Ol' Uncle Bear had trouble at both ends and didn'tknow which way to turn. "

A good-sized piece of bacon still, lay in the bottom of the basket. 

"I wouldn't wonder if that would taste pretty beary now, " said Samson, ashe surveyed the bacon. "It's been sneezed at and growled on so much. Betsey, you take that down to the shore o' the river there and wash thebear out of it. I'll skin him while yer mother is gettin' breakfast. There's plenty o' live coals under the venison rack, I guess. "

They set out rather late that morning. As usual, Joe stood by the head ofColonel while the latter lapped brown sugar from the timid palm of theboy. Then the horse was wont to touch the face of Joe with his big, hairylips as a tribute to his generosity. Colonel had seemed to acquire asingular attachment for the boy and the dog, while Pete distrusted bothof them. He had never a moment's leisure, anyhow, being always busy withhis work or the flies. A few breaks in the pack basket had been repairedwith green withes. It creaked with its load of jerked venison when putaboard. The meat of the bear was nicely wrapped in his hide and placedbeside it. They sold meat and hide and bounty rights in the next villagethey reached for thirty long shillings. 

"That cheers up the ol' weasel, " Samson declared, as they went on. 

"He got a hard knock after we met the Brimsteads, " said Sarah. 

"Yes, ma'am! and I'm not sorry either. He's got to come out of his holeonce in a while. I tell ye God kind o' spoke to us back there in No SantaClaus Land. He kind o' spoke to us. "

After a little silence, Sarah said: "I guess He's apt to speak in thevoices of little children. "

His weasel was a dried pig's bladder of unusual size in which he carriedhis money. Samson had brought with him a fairly good quantity of moneyfor those days. In a smaller bladder he carried his tobacco. 

Farther on the boy got a sore throat. Sarah bound a slice of pork aroundit and Samson built a camp by the roadside, in which, after a good firewas started, they gave him a hemlock sweat. This they did by steepinghemlock in pails of hot water and, while the patient sat in a chair bythe fireside, a blanket was spread about him and pinned close to hisneck. Under the blanket they put the pails of steaming hemlock tea. Afterhis sweat and a day and night in bed, with a warm fire burning in frontof the shanty, Joe was able to resume his seat in the wagon. They spokeof the Brimsteads and thought it strange that they had not come along. 

On the twenty-ninth day after their journey began they came in sight ofthe beautiful green valley of the Mohawk. As they looked from the hillsthey saw the roof of the forest dipping down to the river shores andstretching far to the east and west and broken, here and there, by smallclearings. Soon they could see the smoke and spires of the thrivingvillage of Utica. 

CHAPTER II

WHEREIN IS RECORDED THE VIVID IMPRESSION MADE UPON THE TRAVELERS BY THEIRVIEW OF A STEAM ENGINE AND OF THE FAMOUS ERIE CANAL. WHEREIN, ALSO, IS ABRIEF ACCOUNT OF SUNDRY CURIOUS CHARACTERS MET ON THE ROAD AND AT ACELEBRATION OF THE FOURTH OF JULY ON THE BIG WATERWAY. 

At Utica they bought provisions and a tin trumpet for Joe, and a dollwith a real porcelain face for Betsey, and turned into the great mainthoroughfare of the north leading eastward to Boston and westward toa shore of the midland seas. This road was once the great trail of theIroquois, by them called the Long House, because it had reached from theHudson to Lake Erie, and in their day had been well roofed with foliage. Here the travelers got their first view of a steam engine. The latterstood puffing and smoking near the village of Utica, to the horror andamazement of the team and the great excitement of those in the wagon. Theboy clung to his father for fear of it. 

Samson longed to get out of the wagon and take a close look at the noisymonster, but his horses were rearing in their haste to get away, and evena short stop was impossible. Sambo, with his tail between his legs, ranahead, in a panic, and took refuge in some bushes by the roadside. 

"What was that, father?" the boy asked when the horses had ceased toworry over this new peril. 

"A steam engyne, " he answered. "Sarah, did ye get a good look at it?"

"Yes; if that don't beat all the newfangled notions I ever heard of, " sheexclaimed. 

"It's just begun doin' business, " said Samson. 

"What does it do?" Joe asked. 

"On a railroad track it can grab hold of a house full o' folks and runoff with it. Goes like the wind, too. "

"Does it eat 'em up?" Joe asked. 

"No. It eats wood and oil and keeps yellin' for more. I guess it couldeat a cord o' wood and wash it down with half a bucket o' castor oil inabout five minutes. It snatches folks away to some place and drops 'em. I guess it must make their hair stand up and their teeth chatter. "

"Does it hurt anybody?" Joe asked hopefully. 

"Well, sir, if anybody wanted to be hurt and got in its way, I ratherguess he'd succeed purty well. It's powerful. Why, if a man was to ketchhold of the tail of a locomotive, and hang on, it would jerk the toenails right off him. "

Joe began to have great respect for locomotives. 

Soon they came in view of the famous Erie Canal, hard by the road. Through it the grain of the far West had just begun moving eastward in atide that was flowing from April to December. Big barges, drawn by mulesand horses on its shore, were cutting the still waters of the canal. Theystopped and looked at the barges and the long tow ropes and the tugginganimals. 

"There is a real artificial river, hundreds o' miles long, hand made ofthe best material, water tight, no snags or rocks or other imperfections, durability guaranteed, " said Samson. "It has made the name of DeWittClinton known everywhere. "

"I wonder what next!" Sarah exclaimed. 

They met many teams and passed other movers going west, and someprosperous farms on a road wider and smoother than any they had traveled. They camped that night, close by the river, with a Connecticut family onits way to Ohio with a great load of household furniture on one wagon andseven children in another. There were merry hours for the young, andpleasant visiting between the older folk that evening at the fireside. There was much talk among the latter about the great Erie Canal. 

So they fared along through Canandaigua and across the Genesee to thevillage of Rochester and on through Lewiston and up the Niagara River tothe Falls, and camped where they could see the great water flood and hearits muffled thunder. When nearing the latter they overtook a family ofpoor Irish emigrants, of the name of Flanagan, who shared their camp siteat the Falls. The Flanagans were on their way to Michigan and had comefrom the old country three years before and settled in Broome County, NewYork. They, too, were on their way to a land of better promise. Amongthem was a rugged, freckled, red-headed lad, well along in his teens, ofthe name of Dennis, who wore a tall beaver hat, tilted saucily on oneside of his head, and a ragged blue coat with brass buttons, as he walkedbeside the oxen, whip in hand, with trousers tucked in the tops of hisbig cowhide boots. There was also a handsome young man in this party ofthe name of John McNeil, who wore a ruffled shirt and swallow-tail coat, now much soiled by the journey. He listened to Samson's account of theSangamon country and said that he thought he would go there. He hadtraded hats on the way with Dennis, who had been deeply impressed by themajestic look of the beaver and had given a silver breast pin and fifteenshillings to boot. 

A jolly lad was Dennis, who danced jigs, on a flat rock by the riverside, as Samson played _The Irish Washerman_ and _The Fisher's Hornpipe_. Inthe midst of the fun a puff of wind snatched the tall beaver hat from hishead and whirled it over the side of the cliff into the foliage of aclump of cedars growing out of the steep cliff-side, ten feet or so belowits top. Before any one could stop him the brave Irish lad had scrambleddown the steep to the cedars--a place of some peril, for they hung overa precipice more than a hundred feet deep above the river. He got histreasure, but Samson had to help him back with a rope. 

The latter told of the veiled bear, and when the story was finished hesaid to the Irish lad: "It will not do you any harm to remember that itis easier to get into trouble than to get out of it. In my opinion oneclean-hearted Irish boy is worth more than all the beaver hats increation. "

Sarah gave the Irish family a good supply of cookies and jerked venisonbefore she bade them good-by. 

When our travelers left, next morning, they stopped for a last look atthe great Falls. 

"Children, " said Samson, "I want you to take a good look at that. It'sthe most wonderful thing in the world and maybe you'll never see itagain. "

"The Indians used to think that the Great Spirit was in this river, " saidSarah. 

"Kind o' seems to me they were right, " Samson remarked thoughtfully. "Kind o' seems as if the great spirit of America was in that water. Itmoves on in the way it wills and nothing can stop it. Everything in itscurrent goes along with it. "

"And only the strong can stand the journey, " said Sarah. 

These words were no doubt inspired by an ache in her bones. A hard seatand the ceaseless jolting of the wagon through long, hot, dusty days hadwearied them. Even their hearts were getting sore as they thought of theendless reaches of the roads ahead. Samson stuffed a sack with straw andput it under her and the children on the seat. At a word of complaint hewas wont to say:

"I know it's awful tiresome, but we got to have patience. We're goin'to get used to it and have a wonderful lot of fun. The time'll passquick--you see. "

Then he would sing and get them all laughing with some curious bit ofdrollery. They spent the night of July third at a tavern in Buffalo, thena busy, crude and rapidly growing center for the shipping east and west. Next day there was to be a great celebration of the Fourth of July inBuffalo and our travelers had stopped there to witness it. The bellsbegan to ring and the cannon to bomb at sunrise. It was a day of greatexcitement for the west-bound travelers. The horses trembled in theirstalls. Sambo took refuge in Colonel's manger and would not come out. 

There were many emigrants on their way to the far West in the crowd--men, women and children and babies in arms--Irish, English, Germans andYankees. There were also well dressed, handsome young men from thecolleges of New England going out to be missionaries "between the desertand the sown. "

Buffalo, on the edge of the midland seas, had the flavor of the rank, newsoil in it those days--and especially that day, when it was thronged withrough coated and rougher tongued, swearing men on a holiday, stevedoresand boatmen off the lakes and rivers of the middle border--some of whomhad had their training on the Ohio and Mississippi. There was muchdrunkenness and fighting in the crowded streets. Some of the carriers andhandlers of American commerce vented their enthusiasm in song. 

In Samson's diary was the refrain of one of these old lake songs, whichhe had set down, as best he could, after the event:

 "Then here's three cheers for the skipper an' his crew, Give 'er the wind an' let 'er go, for the boys'll put 'er through; I thought 'twould blow the whiskers right off o' you an' me, On our passage up from Buffalo to Milwaukee-ee. "

Each of these rough men had dressed to his own fancy. Many wore fineboots of calf skin with red tops, drawn over their trousers, and highheels and blue and red shirts and broad brimmed straw hats. A long hairedman, in buckskin leggings and moccasins, with a knife at his belt and toomuch whisky beneath it, amused a crowd by a loud proclamation of his ownreckless and redoubtable character and a louder appeal for a chance toput it in action. It was a droll bit of bragging and merely intended, asthe chronicler informs us, to raise a laugh. 

"Here I be half man an' half alligator, " he shouted. "Oh, I'm one o' yertough kind, live forever an' then turn into a hickory post. I've justcrept out o' the ma'shes of ol' Kentuck. I'm only a yearlin', but cussme if I don't think I can whip anybody in this part o' the country. I'mthe chap that towed the Broadhorn up Salt River where the snags was sothick a fish couldn't swim without rubbin' his scales off. Cock a doodledoo! I'm the infant that refused his milk before his eyes was open an'called for a bottle o' rum. Talk about grinnin' the bark off a tree--thatain't nothin'. One look o' mine would raise a blister on a bull's heel. Cock a doodle doo! (slapping his thighs). Gol darn it! Ain't there someone that dast come up an' collar me? It would just please my vitals ifthere was some man here who could split me into shoe pegs. I deserve itif ever a man did. I'll have to go home an' have another settlement withol' Bill Sims. He's purty well gouged up, an' ain't but one ear, but he'swillin' to do his best. That's somethin'. It kind o' stays yer appetite, an' I suppose that's all a man like me can expect in this world o'sorrow. "

At this point a tall, raw-boned woman in "a brindle dress" (to quote thephrase of Samson), wearing a large gilt pin just below her collar, withan orthographic design which spelled the name Minnie, approached the heroand boldly boxed his ears. 

"Licked at last, " he shouted as he picked up his hat, dislodged by theviolence he had suffered, and retired from the scene with a good-naturedlaugh. 

Sarah was a bit dismayed by the behavior of these rough forerunners ofcivilization. 

"Don't worry, " said Samson, as they were driving away on the Lake Roadnext morning. "The lake and river boatmen are the roughest fellers in theWest, and they're not half as bad as they look an' talk. Their deviltryis all on the outside. They tell me that there isn't one o' those boyswho wouldn't give his life to help a woman, an' I guess it's so. "

They had the lake view and its cool breeze on their way to Silver Creek, Dunkirk and Erie, and a rough way it was in those days. 

Enough has been written of this long and wearisome journey, but the worstof it was ahead of them--much the worst of it--in the swamp flats of Ohioand Indiana. In one of the former a wagon wheel broke down, and that daySarah began to shake with ague and burn with fever. Samson built a rudecamp by the roadside, put Sarah into bed under its cover and started forthe nearest village on Colonel's back. 

 * * * * *

"I shall never forget that day spent in a lonely part of the woods, " thegood woman wrote to her brother. "It endeared the children to me morethan any day I can remember. They brought water from the creek, a greatquantity of which I drank, and bathed my aching head and told me storiesand cheered me in every way they could. Joe had his bear stick handy andhis plans for bears or wolves or Indians. Samson had made some nails at asmithy in Pennsylvania. Joe managed to drive one of them through an endof his bear stick and made, as he thought, a formidable weapon. With hisnail he hoped to penetrate the bear's eye. He had also put some bacon inthe bottom of the pack basket, knowing the liking of the basket forbears. My faith in God's protection was perfect and in spite of my miserythe children were a great comfort. In the middle of the afternoon Samsonreturned with a doctor and some tools and a stick of seasoned timber. Howgood he looked when he came and knelt by my bed and kissed me! This is ahard journey, but a woman can bear anything with such a man. The doctorgave me Sapington's fever pills and said I would be all right in threedays, and I was. 

"Late that afternoon it began to rain. Samson was singing as he worked onhis wheel. A traveler came along on horseback and saw our plight. He wasa young missionary going west. Samson began to joke with him. 

"'You're a happy man for one in so much trouble, ' said the stranger. 

"Then I heard Samson say: 'Well, sir, I'm in a fix where happiness isabsolutely necessary. It's like grease on the wagon wheels--we couldn'tgo on without it. When we need anything we make it if we can. My wife issick and the wagon is broke and it's raining and night is near in alonesome country, and it ain't a real good time for me to be down in themouth--is it now? We haven't broke any bones or had an earthquake or beenscalped by Indians, so there's some room for happiness. '

"'Look here, stranger--I like you, ' said the man. 'If there's anythingI can do to help ye, I'll stop a while. '"

 * * * * *

He spent the night with them and helped mend the felly and set the tire. 

The fever and ague passed from one to another and all were sick beforethe journey ended, although Samson kept the reins in hand through hismisery. There were many breaks to mend, but Samson's ingenuity was alwaysequal to the task. 

One day, near nightfall, they were overtaken by a tall, handsome Yankeelad riding a pony. His pony stopped beside the wagon and looked towardthe travelers as if appealing for help. The boy was pointing toward thehorizon and muttering. Sarah saw at once that his mind was wandering inthe delirium of fever. She got out of the wagon and took his hand. Themoment she did so he began crying like a child. 

"This boy is sick, " she said to Samson, who came and helped him off hishorse. They camped for the night and put the boy to bed and gave himmedicine and tender care. He was too sick to travel next day. TheTraylors stayed with him and nursed the lad until he was able to go on. He was from Niagara County, New York, and his name was Harry Needles. His mother had died when he was ten and his father had married again. Hehad not been happy in his home after that and his father had given hima pony and a hundred dollars and sent him away to seek his own fortune. Homesick and lonely and ill, and just going west with a sublime faiththat the West would somehow provide for him, he might even haveperished on the way if he had not fallen in with friendly people. Hisstory had touched the heart of Sarah and Samson. He was a big, green, gentle-hearted country boy who had set out filled with hope and the loveof adventure. Sarah found pleasure in mothering the poor lad, and so ithappened that he became one of their little party. He was helpful andgood-natured and had sundry arts that pleased the children. The man andthe woman liked the big, honest lad. 

One day he said to Samson: "I hope you won't mind if I go along with you, sir. "

"Glad to have you with us, " said Samson. "We've talked it over. If youwant to, you can come along with us and our home shall be yours and I'lldo what's right by you. "

They fared along through Indiana and over the wide savannas of Illinois, and on the ninety-seventh day of their journey they drove throughrolling, grassy, flowering prairies and up a long, hard hill to thesmall log cabin settlement of New Salem, Illinois, on the shore of theSangamon. They halted about noon in the middle of this little prairievillage, opposite a small clapboarded house. A sign hung over its doorwhich bore the rudely lettered words: "Rutledge's Tavern. "

A long, slim, stoop-shouldered young man sat in the shade of an oak treethat stood near a corner of the tavern, with a number of children playingaround him. He had sat leaning against the tree trunk reading a book. Hehad risen as they came near and stood looking at them, with the bookunder his arm. Samson says in his diary that he looked like "an untrimmedyearling colt about sixteen hands high. He got up slow and kept risingtill his bush of black tousled hair was six feet four above the ground. Then he put on an old straw hat without any band on it. He reminded me ofPhilemon Baker's fish rod, he was that narrer. For humliness I'd matchhim against the world. His hide was kind o' yaller and leathery. I couldsee he was still in the gristle--a little over twenty--but his face wasmarked up by worry and weather like a man's. I never saw anybody so longbetween joints. Don't hardly see how he could tell when his feet gotcold. "

He wore a hickory shirt without a collar or coat or jacket. One suspenderheld up his coarse, linsey trousers, the legs of which fitted closely andcame only to a blue yarn zone above his heavy cowhide shoes. Samsonwrites that he "fetched a sneeze and wiped his big nose with a redhandkerchief" as he stood surveying them in silence, while Dr. JohnAllen, who had sat on the door-step reading a paper--a kindly faced manof middle age with a short white beard under his chin--greeted themcheerfully. 

The withering sunlight of a day late in August fell upon the dustystreet, now almost deserted. Faces at the doors and windows of the littlehouses were looking out at them. Two ragged boys and a ginger colored dogcame running toward the wagon. The latter and Sambo surveyed each otherwith raised hair and began scratching the earth, straight legged, whiningmeanwhile, and in a moment began to play together. A man in blue jeanswho sat on the veranda of a store opposite, leaning against its wall, stopped whittling and shut his jack-knife. 

"Where do ye hail from?" the Doctor asked. 

"Vermont, " said Samson. 

"All the way in that wagon?"

"Yes, sir. "

"I guess you're made o' the right stuff, " said the Doctor. "Where yebound?"

"Don't know exactly. Going to take up a claim somewhere. "

"There's no better country than right here. This is the Canaan ofAmerica. We need people like you. Unhitch your team and have some dinnerand we'll talk things over after you're rested. I'm the doctor here and Iride all over this part o' the country. I reckon I know it pretty well. "

A woman in a neat calico dress came out of the door--a strong built andrather well favored woman with blonde hair and dark eyes. 

"Mrs. Rutledge, these are travelers from the East, " said the Doctor. "Give 'em some dinner, and if they can't pay for it, I can. They've comeall the way from Vermont. "

"Good land! Come right in an' rest yerselves. Abe, you show the gentlemanwhere to put his horses an' lend him a hand. "

Abe extended his long arm toward Samson and said "Howdy" as they shookhands. 

"When his big hand got hold of mine, I kind of felt his timber, " Samsonwrites. "I says to myself, 'There's a man it would be hard to tip over ina rassle. '"

"What's yer name? How long ye been travelin'? My conscience! Ain't yewore out?" the hospitable Mrs. Rutledge was asking as she went into thehouse with Sarah and the children. "You go and mix up with the littleones and let yer mother rest while I git dinner, " she said to Joe andBetsey, and added as she took Sarah's shawl and bonnet: "You lop down an'rest yerself while I'm flyin' around the fire. "

"Come all the way from Vermont?" Abe asked as he and Samson wereunhitching. 

"Yes, sir. "

"By jing!" the slim giant exclaimed. "I reckon you feel like throwin' offyer harness an' takin' a roll in the grass. "

CHAPTER III

WHEREIN THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO OFFUT'S STORE AND HIS CLERK ABE, ANDTHE SCHOLAR JACK KELSO AND HIS CABIN AND HIS DAUGHTER BIM, AND GETS AFIRST LOOK AT LINCOLN. 

They had a dinner of prairie thickens and roast venison, flavored withwild grape jelly, and creamed potatoes and cookies and doughnuts andraisin pie. It was a well cooked dinner, served on white linen, in aclean room, and while they were eating, the sympathetic landlady stood bythe table, eager to learn of their travels and to make them feel at home. The good food and their kindly welcome and the beauty of the rolling, wooded prairies softened the regret which had been growing in theirhearts, and which only the children had dared to express. 

"Perhaps we haven't made a mistake after all, " Sarah whispered when thedinner was over. "I like these people and the prairies are beautiful. "

"It is the land of plenty at last, " said Samson, as they cameout-of-doors. "It is even better than I thought. "

"As Douglas Jerrold said of Australia: 'Tickle it with a hoe and itlaughs with a harvest, '" said Dr. Allen, who still sat in the shadeddooryard, smoking his pipe. "I have an extra horse and saddle. Supposeyou leave the family with Mrs. Rutledge and ride around with me a littlethis afternoon. I can show you how the land lies off to the west of us, and to-morrow we'll look at the other side. "

"Thank you--I want to look around here a little, " said Samson. "What'sthe name of this place?"

"New Salem. We call it a village. It has a mill, a carding machine, atavern, a schoolhouse, five stores, fourteen houses, two or three men ofgenius, and a noisy dam. You will hear other damns, if you stay here longenough, but they don't amount to much. It's a crude but growing place andsoon it will have all the embellishments of civilized life. "

That evening many of the inhabitants of the little village came to thetavern to see the travelers and were introduced by Dr. Allen. Most ofthem had come from Kentucky, although there were two Yankee families whohad moved on from Ohio. 

"These are good folks, " said the Doctor. "There are others who are not sogood. I could show you some pretty rough customers at Clary's Grove, notfar from here. We have to take things as they are and do our best to make'em better. "

"Any Indians?" Sarah asked. 

"You see one now and then, but they're peaceable. Most of 'em have gonewith the buffalos--farther west. We have make-believe Indians--somereckless white boys who come whooping into the village, half crazy withdrink, once in a while. They're not so bad as they seem to be. We'll haveto do a little missionary work with them. The Indians have left theirimitators all over the West, but they only make a loud noise. That willpass away soon. It's a noisy land. Now and then a circuit rider gets hereand preaches to us. You'll hear the Reverend Stephen Nuckles if yousettle in these parts. He can holler louder than any man in the state. "

"You bet he can holler some when he gits fixed for it, " said Abe, who satnear the open door. 

"He's for them that need scarin'. The man that don't need that has to behis own preacher here and sow and reap his own morality. He can makehimself just as much of a saint as he pleases. "

"If he has the raw material to work with, " Abe interposed. 

"The self-made saint is the only kind I believe in, " said Samson. 

"We haven't any Erie Canal to Heaven, with the minister towin' us along, "said Abe. "There's some that say it's only fifteen miles to Springfield, but the man that walks it knows better. "

The tavern was the only house in New Salem with stairs in it. Stairs sosteep, as Samson writes, that "they were first cousins to the ladder. "There were four small rooms above them. Two of these were separated bya partition of cloth hanging from the rafters. In each was a bed andbedstead and smaller beds on the floor. In case there were a number ofadult guests the bedstead was screened with sheets hung upon strings. Inone of these rooms the travelers had a night of refreshing sleep. 

After riding two days with the Doctor, Samson bought the claim of oneIsaac Gollaher to a half section of land a little more than a mile fromthe western end of the village. He chose a site for his house on the edgeof an open prairie. 

"Now we'll go over and see Abe, " said Dr. Allen, after the deal was made. "He's the best man with an axe and a saw in this part of the country. Heclerks for Mr. Offut. Abe Lincoln is one of the best fellows that everlived--a rough diamond just out of the great mine of the West, that onlyneeds to be cut and polished. "

Denton Offut's store was a small log structure about twenty by twentywhich stood near the brow of the hill east of Rutledge's Tavern. Whenthey entered it Abe lay at full length on the counter, his head restingon a bolt of blue denim as he studied a book in his hand. He wore thesame shirt and one suspender and linsey trousers which he had worn in thedooryard of the tavern, but his feet were covered only by his blue yarnsocks. 

It was a general store full of exotic flavors, chiefly those of tea, coffee, whisky, tobacco, muscovado sugar and molasses. There was acounter on each side. Bolts of cloth, mostly calico, were piled on thefar end of the right counter as one entered and the near end held a showcase containing a display of cutlery, pewter spoons, jewelry and fishingtackle. There were double windows on either side of the rough board doorwith its wooden latch. The left counter held a case filled with threads, buttons, combs, colored ribbons, and belts and jew's-harps. A balancestood in the middle of this counter. A chest of tea, a big brown jug, a box of candles, a keg and a large wooden pail occupied its farther end. The shelving on its side walls was filled by straw hats, plug tobacco, bolts of cloth, pills and patent medicines and paste-board boxescontaining shirts, handkerchiefs and underwear. A suit of blue jeans, scythes and snaths, hoes, wooden hand rakes and a brass warming-pan hungfrom the rafters. At the rear end of the store was a large fireplace. There were two chairs near the fireplace, both of which were occupied bya man who sat in one while his feet lay on the other. He was sleepingpeacefully, his chin resting on his breast. He wore a calico shirt with afanciful design of morning-glories on it printed in appropriate colors, acollar of the same material and a red necktie. 

Abe laid aside his book and rose to a sitting posture. 

"Pardon me--you see the firm is busy, " said Abe. "You know Eb Zane usedto say that he was never so busy in his life as when he lay on his backwith a broken leg. He said he had to work twenty-four hours a day doin'nothin' an' could never git an hour off. But a broken leg is not so badas a lame intellect. That lays you out with the fever an' ague ofignorance. Jack Kelso recommended Kirkham's pills and poultices ofpoetry. I'm trying both and slowly getting the better of it. I've learnedthree conjugations, between customers, this afternoon. "

The man sleeping in the chair began snoring and groaning. 

"Don't blame Bill, " Abe went on. "Any man would have the nightmare in ashirt like that. He went to a dance at Clary's Grove last night and theyshut him up in a barrel with a small dog and rolled 'em down hill in it. I reckon that's how he learnt how to growl. "

In the laughter that followed the sleeper awoke. 

"You see there's quite an undercurrent beneath the placid surface of ourenterprise, " Abe added. 

The sleeper whose name was William Berry rose and stretched himself andwas introduced to the newcomer. He was a short, genial man, of somethirty years, with blond, curly hair and mustache. On account of hisshortness and high color he was often referred to as the Billberryshortcake. His fat cheeks had a color as definite as that of the blossomson his shirt, now rather soiled. His prominent nose shared their glow ofruddy opulence. His gray eyes wore a look of apology. He walked ratherstiffly as if his legs were rheumatic. 

"Mr. Traylor, this is Mr. William Berry, " said Dr. Allen. "In thisbeautiful shirt he resembles a bit of vine-clad sculpture from an Italiangarden, but is real flesh and blood and a good fellow. "

"I don't understand your high-toned talk, " said Berry. "This shirt suitsme to a dot. "

"It is the pride of New Salem, " said the Doctor. "Mr. Traylor has justacquired an interest in all our institutions. He has bought the Gollahertract and is going to build a house and some fences. Abe, couldn't youhelp get the timber out in a hurry so we can have a raising within aweek? You know the arts of the axe better than any of us. "

Abe looked at Samson. 

"I reckon he and I would make a good team with the axe, " he said. "Helooks as if he could push a house down with one hand and build it up withthe other. You can bet I'll be glad to help in any way I can. "

"We'll all turn in and help. I should think Bill or Jack Kelso could lookafter the store for a few days, " said the Doctor. "I promised to take Mr. Traylor over to Jack Kelso's to-night. Couldn't you come along?"

"Good! We'll have a story-tellin' and get Jack to unlimber his guns, "said Abe. 

It was a cool evening with a promise of frost in the air. Jack Kelso'scabin, one of two which stood close together at the western end of thevillage, was lighted by the cheery blaze of dry logs in its fireplace. There were guns on a rack over the fireplace under a buck's head; apowder horn hanging near them on its string looped over a nail. Therewere wolf and deer and bear pelts on the floor. The skins of foxes, raccoons and wildcats adorned the log walls. Jack Kelso was a blond, smooth faced, good-looking, merry-hearted Scot, about forty years old, of a rather slight build, some five feet, eight inches tall. That is allthat any one knew of him save that he spent most of his time hunting andfishing and seemed to have all the best things, which great men had saidor written, on the tip of his tongue. He was neatly dressed in a blueflannel coat and shirt, top boots and riding breeches. 

"Welcome! and here's the best seat at the fireside, " he said to Samson. 

Then, as he filled his pipe, he quoted the lines from Cymbeline:

 "'Think us no churls nor measure our good minds By this rude place we live in. '

"My wife and daughter are away for a visit and for two days I've had thecabin to myself. Look, ye worshipers of fire, and see how fine it is now!The homely cabin is a place of beauty. Everything has the color of therose, coming and going in the flickering shadows. What a heaven it iswhen the flames are leaping! Here is Hogarth's line of beauty; nothingperpendicular or horizontal. "

He took Abe's hand and went on: "Here, ye lovers of romance, is one ofthe story-tellers of Ispahan who has in him the wisdom of the wanderingtribes. He can tell you a tale that will draw children from their playand old men from the chimney corner. My boy, take a chair next to Mr. Traylor. "

He took the hand of the Doctor and added: "Here, too, is a man whose witis more famous than his pills--one produces the shakes and the othercures them. Doctor, you and I will take the end seats. "

"My pills can be relied upon but my wit is like my dog, away from homemost of the time, " said the Doctor. 

"Gathering the bones with which you often astonish us, " said Kelso. "Howare the lungs, Doctor?"

"They're all right. These long rides in the open are making a new man ofme. Another year in the city would have used me up. "

"Mr. Traylor, you stand up as proud and firm as a big pine, " Kelsoremarked. "I believe you're a Yankee. "

"So do I, " said Samson. "If you took all the Yankee out o' me I'd have anempty skin. "

Then Abe began to show the stranger his peculiar art in these words:

"Stephen Nuckles used to say: 'God's grace embraces the isles o' the seaan' the uttermost parts o' the earth. It takes in the Esquimaux an' theHottentots. Some go so fur as to say that it takes in the Yankees but Idon't go so fur. '"

Samson joined in the good-natured laughter that followed. 

"If you deal with some Yankees you take your life in your hands, " hesaid. "They can serve God or Mammon and I guess they have given the Devilsome of his best ideas. He seems to be getting a lot of Yankee notionslately. "

"There was a powerful prejudice in Kentucky against the Yankees, " Abewent on. "Down there they used to tell about a Yankee who sold his hogsand was driving them to town. On the way he decided that he had sold themtoo cheap. He left them with his drover in the road and went on to townand told the buyer that he would need help to bring 'em in. 

"'How's that?' the buyer asked. 

"'Why they git away an' go to runnin' through the woods an' fields an' wecan't keep up with 'em. '

"'I don't think I want 'em, ' says the buyer. 'A speedy hog hasn't muchpork to carry. I'll give ye twenty bits to let me off. '"

"I guess that Yankee had one more hog than he'd counted, " said Samson. 

"It reminds me of a man in Pope County who raised the biggest hog inIllinois, " Abe went on. "It was a famous animal and people from far andnear came to see him. One day a man came an' asked to see the hog. 

"'We're chargin' two bits for the privilege now, ' said the owner. 

"The man paid the money and got into his wagon. 

"'Don't you want to see him?' the farmer asked. 

"'No, ' said the stranger. 'I've seen the biggest hog in Illinois an'I don't care to look at a smaller one. '"

"Whatever prejudice you may find here will soon vanish, " said Kelso, turning to the newcomer. "I have great respect for the sturdy sons of NewEngland. I believe it was Theodore Parker who said that the pine was thesymbol of their character. He was right. Its roots are deep in the soil;it towers above the forest; it has the strength of tall masts and thesubstance of the builder in its body, music in its waving branches andturpentine in its veins. I thought of this when I saw Webster and heardhim speak at Plymouth. "

"What kind of a looking man is he?" Abe asked. 

"A big erect, splendid figure of a man. He walked like a ram at the headof his flock. As he began speaking I thought of that flash of Homer's inthe _Odyssey_:

"'When his great voice went forth out of his breast and his words felllike the winter snows--not then would any mortal contend with Ulysses. '"

Abe who since his story had sat with a sad face looking into the fire nowleaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and shook his head with interestwhile his gray eyes took on a look of animation. The diary speaks oftenof the "veil of sadness" on his face. 

"He is a very great man, " Abe exclaimed. 

"Have you learned that last noble flight of his in the reply to Hayne asyou promised?" Kelso asked. 

"I have, " said Abe, "and the other day when I was tramping back fromBowlin Green's I came across a drove of cattle and stopped and gave it tothem. They all let go of the grass and stood looking. By an' by the bullthought he'd stood it as long as he could an' bellered back at me. "

"Good! Now stand up and let us see how you imitate the great chief of theWhig clan, " said Kelso. 

The lank and awkward youth rose and began to speak the lines in a highpitched voice that trembled with excitement. It lowered and steadied andrang out like noble music on a well played trumpet as the channel of hisspirit filled with the mighty current of the orator's passion. Then, indeed, the words fell from his lips "like the winter snows. "

"They shook our hearts as the wind shakes the branches of a tree, " Samsonwrites in his diary. "The lean, bony body of the boy was transfigured andas I looked at his face in the firelight I thought it was handsome. 

"Not a word was spoken for a minute after he sat down. I had got my firstlook at Lincoln. I had seen his soul. I think it was then I began torealize that a man was being made among us 'more precious than fine gold;even a man more precious than the golden wedge of Ophir. '"

The Doctor gazed in silence at the boy. Kelso sat with both hands in hispockets and his chin upon his breast looking solemnly into the fire. 

"Thank you, Abe, " he said in a low voice. "Something unusual has happenedand I'm just a little scared. "

"Why?" Abe asked. 

"For fear somebody will spoil it with another hog story. I'm a littleafraid of anything I can say. I would venture this, that the man Websteris a prophet. In his Plymouth address he hears receding into neverreturning distance the clank of chains and all the horrid din of slavery. It will come true. "

"Do you think so?" Abe asked. 

"Surely--there are so many of us who hate it. These Yankees hate it andthey and their children are scattering all over the midlands. Theirspirit will guide the West. The love of Liberty is the salt of theirblood and the marrow of their bones. Liberty means freedom for all. Waituntil these babies, coming out here by the wagon load, have grown tomanhood. Slavery will have to reckon with them. "

"I hate it too, " said Abe. "Down the Mississippi I have seen men andwomen sold like oxen. If I live I'm going to hit that thing on the headsome day. "

"Do you still want to be a lawyer?" Kelso asked. 

"Yes, but sometimes I think I'd make a better blacksmith, " said Abe. 

"I believe you'd do better with the hammer of argument. "

"If I had the education likely I would. I'm trying to make up my mindwhat's best for me. "

"No, you're trying to decide what is best for your friends and yourcountry and for the reign of law and justice and liberty. "

"But I think every man acts from selfish motives, " Abe insisted. 

Dr. Allen demurred as follows:

"The other night you happened to remember that you had overcharged Mrs. Peters for a jug of molasses and after you had closed the store youwalked three miles to return the money which belonged to her. Why did youdo it?"

"For a selfish motive, " said Abe. "I believe honesty is the best policy. "

"Then you took that long walk just to advertise your honesty--to inducepeople to call you 'Honest Abe' as they have begun to do?"

"I wouldn't want to put it that way, " said Abe. 

"But that's the only way out, " the Doctor insisted, "and we knowing oneswould have to call you 'Sordid Abe. '"

"There's a hidden Abe and you haven't got acquainted with him yet, " Kelsointerposed. "We have all caught a glimpse of him to-night. He's the Abethat loves honor and justice and humanity and their great temple offreedom that is growing up here in the new world. He loves them betterthan fame or fortune or life itself. I think it must have been that Abewhose voice sounded like a trumpet just now and who sent you off to Mrs. Peters with the money. You haven't the chance to know him that we have. Some day you two will get acquainted. "

"I don't know how to plead to that indictment, " Abe answered. "It looksso serious I shall have to take counsel. "

At this moment there was a loud rap on the door. Mr. Kelso opened it andsaid: "Hello, Eli! Come in. "

A hairy faced, bow legged man, bent under a great pack, partly coveredwith bed ticking, stood in the doorway. 

"Hello, Mr. Kelso, " the bearded man answered. "The poor vandering Jew hasgome back ag'in--hey? I tink I haf to take de hump off my back before Igits in. "

Staggering beneath his load he let it down to the ground. 

"Bring in your Trojan horse and mind you do not let out its four andtwenty warriors until morning. I'll have some bread and milk for you in aminute. Gentlemen, this is my friend Eli--a wandering pioneer of trade. "

"I haf a vonderful line o' goods--vonderful! vonderful!" said Eli, gesturing with both hands. "Silk an' satin! De flowers o' de prairie, debirds o' de air could not show you colors like dem. You vill fall inlove. If I do not let you have dem you vill break your hearts. An' I havehere one instrument dot make all kinds o' music. "

"First supper--then open your Trojan horse, " said Kelso. 

"First I must show my goods, " Eli insisted, "ant I'll bet you take demall--everyt'ing vat I have in dot pack an' you pay my price an' you t'ankme say 'Eli, vat you have to drink?'"

"I'll bet you four bits I don't, " said Kelso. 

"You are my frient; I vould not take your money like dot so easy. No! Itvould not be right. These are Scotch goods, gentlemen--so rare an'beautiful--not'ing like dem in de world. "

He began to undo his pack while the little company stood around him. 

"Gentlemen, you can see but you can not buy. Only my frient can have demgoods, " he went on glibly as he removed the cover of the pack. 

Suddenly there was a lively stir in it. To the amazement of all abeautiful girl threw aside the ticking and leaped out of the large wickerbasket it had covered. With a merry laugh she threw her arms around JackKelso's neck and kissed him. 

The men clapped their hands in noisy merriment. 

"That's like Bim, isn't it?" said the Doctor. 

"Exactly!" Abe exclaimed. 

"I stop at David Barney's an' dere she took de goods out o' my pack an'fix up dis job lot fer you, " said Eli with a laugh. 

"A real surprise party!" the girl exclaimed. 

She was a small sized girl, nearing sixteen, with red cheeks and hazeleyes and blonde hair that fell in curls upon her shoulders. 

"Mr. Traylor, this is my daughter Bim, " said Kelso. "She is skilled inthe art of producing astonishment. "

"She must have heard of that handsome boy at the tavern and got in ahurry to come home, " said the Doctor. 

"Ann Rutledge says that he is a right purty boy, " the girl laughed as shebrushed her curls aside. 

She turned to Samson Traylor and asked wistfully, "Do you suppose hewould play with me?"

CHAPTER IV

WHICH PRESENTS OTHER LOG CABIN FOLK AND THE FIRST STEPS IN THE MAKING OFA NEW HOME AND CERTAIN CAPACITIES AND INCAPACITIES OF ABE. 

Next morning at daylight two parties went out in the woods to cut timberfor the home of the newcomers. In one party were Harry Needles carryingtwo axes and a well filled luncheon pail; Samson with a saw in his handand the boy Joe on his back; Abe with saw and axe and a small jug of rootbeer and a book tied in a big red handkerchief and slung around his neck. When they reached the woods Abe cut a pole for the small boy and carriedhim on his shoulder to the creek and said:

"Now you sit down here and keep order in this little frog city. If youhear a frog say anything improper you fetch him a whack. Don't allow anynonsense. We'll make you Mayor of Frog City. "

The men fell to with axes and saws while Harry limbed the logs and lookedafter the Mayor. Their huge muscles flung the sharp axes into the timberand gnawed through it with the saw. Many big trees fell before noon timewhen they stopped for luncheon. While they were eating Abe said:

"I reckon we better saw out a few boards this afternoon. Need 'em for thedoors. We'll tote a couple of logs up on the side o' that knoll, put 'emon skids an' whip 'em up into boards with the saw. "

Samson took hold of the middle of one of the logs and raised it from theground. 

"I guess we can carry 'em, " he said. 

"Can ye shoulder it?" Abe asked. 

"Easy, " said Samson as he raised an end of the log, stepped beneath itand, resting its weight on his back, soon got his shoulder near itscenter and swung it clear of the ground and walked with it to theknollside where he let it fall with a resounding thump that shook theground. Abe stopped eating and watched every move in this remarkableperformance. The ease with which the big Vermonter had so defied thelaw of gravitation with that unwieldly stick amazed him. 

"That thing'll weigh from seven to eight hundred pounds, " said he. "Ireckon you're the stoutest man in this part o' the state an' I'm quite aman myself. I've lifted a barrel o' whisky and put my mouth to the bunghole. I never drink it. "

"Say, " he added as he sat down and began eating a doughnut. "If you everhit anybody take a sledge hammer or a crowbar. It wouldn't be decent touse your fist. "

"Don't talk when you've got food in your mouth, " said Joe who seemed tohave acquired a sense of responsibility for the manners of Abe. 

"I reckon you're right, " Abe laughed. "A man's ideas ought not to bemingled with cheese and doughnuts. "

"Once in a while I like to try myself in a lift, " said Samson. "It feelsgood. I don't do it to show off. I know there's a good many men stouterthan I be. I guess you're one of 'em. "

"No, I'm too stretched out--my neck is too far from the ground, " Abeanswered. "I'm like a crowbar. If I can get my big toe or my fingersunder anything I can pry some. "

After luncheon he took off his shoes and socks. 

"When I'm working hard I always try to give my feet a rest and my braina little work at noon time, " he remarked. "My brain is so far behind theprocession I have to keep putting the gad on it. Give me twenty minutesof Kirkham and I'll be with you again. "

He lay down on his back under a tree with his book in hand and his feetresting on the tree trunk well above him. Soon he was up and at workagain. 

They hewed a flat surface on opposite sides of the log which Samson hadcarried and peeled it and raised its lower end on a cross timber. Thenthey marked it with a chalk line and sliced it into inch boards with awhip saw, Abe standing on top of the log and Samson beneath it. Suddenlythe saw stopped. A clear, beautiful voice flung the music of _SweetNightingale_ into the timbered hollow. It halted the workers and set thewoodland ringing. The men stood silent like those hearing a benediction. The singing ceased. Still they listened for half a moment. It was as if aspirit had passed and touched them. 

"It's Bim--the little vixen!" said Abe tenderly. "She's hiding here inthe woods somewheres. "

Abe straightened up and peered through the bushes. The singing ceased. 

"I can see yer curls. Come out from behind that tree--you piece o' Scotchgoods!" Abe shouted. 

Only silence followed his demand. 

"Come on, " Abe persisted. "There's a good-looking boy here and I want tointroduce you. "

"Ask him to see if he can find me, " said the voice of the girl from adistance. 

Abe beckoned to Harry and pointed to the tree behind which he had seenher hiding. Harry stealthily approached it only to find that she hadgone. He looked about for a moment but could not see her. Soon they hearda little call, suggesting elfland trumpets, in a distant part of thewood. It was repeated three or four times; each time fainter and farther. They saw and heard no more of her that day. 

"She's an odd child and as pretty as a spotted fawn, and about as wild, "said Abe. "She's a kind of a first cousin to the bobolink. "

When they were getting ready to go home that afternoon Joe got into agreat hurry to see his mother. It seemed to him that ages had elapsedsince he had seen her--a conviction which led to noisy tears. 

Abe knelt before him and comforted the boy. Then he wrapped him in hisjacket and swung him in the air and started for home with Joe astride hisneck. 

Samson says in his diary: "His tender play with the little lad gave meanother look at the man Lincoln. "

"Some one proposed once that we should call that stream the Minnehaha, "said Abe as he walked along. "After this Joe and I are going to call itthe Minneboohoo. "

The women of the little village had met at a quilting party at teno'clock with Mrs. Martin Waddell. There Sarah had had a seat at the frameand heard all the gossip of the countryside. The nimble fingered AnnRutledge--a daughter of the tavern folk--had sat beside her. Ann was aslender, good-looking girl of seventeen with blue eyes and a rich crownof auburn hair and a fair skin well browned by the sunlight. She was themost dexterous needle worker in New Salem. It was Mrs. Peter Lukins, avery lean, red haired woman with only one eye which missed no matrimonialprospect--who put the ball in play so to speak. 

"Ann, if Honest Abe gits you, you'll have to spend the first three monthsmakin' a pair o' breeches for him. It'll be a mile o' sewin'. "

"I reckon she'd have to spend the rest o' her life keepin' the buttons on'em, " said Mrs. John Cameron. 

"Abe doesn't want me and I don't want Abe so I reckon some other girlwill have to make his breeches, " said Ann. 

"My lord! but he's humbly, " said Mrs. Alexander Ferguson. 

"Han'some is that han'some does, " Mrs. Martin Waddell remarked. "I don'tknow anybody that does han'somer. "

"Han'some is that han'some looks I say, " Mrs. Lukins continued with adreamy look in her eye. 

"I like a man that'll bear inspection--up an' a comin' an' neat an' trimas a buck deer, " Mrs. Ferguson confessed. 

"An' the first ye know he's up an' a goin', " said Mrs. Samuel Hill. "Anthen all ye have to look at is a family o' children an' the empty breadbox. "

"Wait until Abe has shed his coat an' is filled out a little. He'll be agood-lookin' man an' I wouldn't wonder, " Mrs. Waddell maintained. 

"If Abe lives he'll be a great man, I think, " said Mrs. Dr. Allen. "Iforgot how he looked when I heard him talking the other night at thedebate in the schoolhouse about the flogging of sailors with the cat o'nine tails. He has a wonderful gift. If I were Ann I should be proud ofhis friendship and proud to go with him to the parties. "

"I am, " said Ann meekly, with her eyes upon her work. "I love to hear himtalk, too. "

"Oh, land o' mercy! He's good company if you only use your ears, " Mrs. Ferguson remarked. "Mis' Traylor, where did you git your man?"

"At Vergennes. We were born in the same neighborhood and grew uptogether, " said Sarah. 

"Now there's the kind of a man! Stout as a buffalo an' as to looks I'dcall him, as ye might say, real copasetic. " Mrs. Lukins expressed thisopinion solemnly and with a slight cough. Its last word stood for nothingmore than an indefinite depth of meaning. She added by way of drawing thecurtain of history: "I'll bet _he_ didn't dilly dally long when he madeup his mind. I reckon he were plum owdacious. "

"What a pretty pattern this is!" said Sarah with a sudden shift of front. 

Mrs. Lukins was not to be driven from the Elysian fields so easily andforthwith she told the story of her own courtship. 

A bountiful dinner of stewed venison and chicken pie and tea and frostedcake was served, all hands turning in to help with the table and thecleaning up. While they were eating Sarah told of her long journey andtheir trials with fever and ague. 

"It's the worst part of going west but it really isn't very dangerous, "said Mrs. Dr. Allen. 

"Nine scoops o' water in the holler o' the hand from a good spring forthree mornin's before sunrise an' strong coffee with lemon juice willbreak the ager every time, " said Mrs. Lukins. "My gran' mammy used to sayit were better than all the doctors an' I've tried it an' know what it'lldo. "

"I suppose if you got ten scoops it would be no good, " said Sarah with alaugh in which Mrs. Allen and some of the others joined. 

Mrs. Lukins looked offended. "When I'm takin' medicine I always follerdirections, " said she. 

So the day passed with them and was interrupted by the noisy entrance ofJoe, soon after candlelight, who climbed on the back of his mother'schair and kissed her and in breathless eagerness began to relate thehistory of his own day. 

That ended the quilting party and Sarah and Mrs. Rutledge and Ann joinedSamson and Abe and Harry Needles who were waiting outside and walked tothe tavern with them. 

John McNeil, whom the Traylors had met on the road near Niagara Falls andwho had shared their camp with them, arrived on the stage that evening. He was dressed in a new butternut suit and clean linen and looked veryhandsome. Samson writes that he resembled the pictures of Robert Emmet. With fine, dark eyes, a smooth skin, well moulded features and black hairneatly brushed on a shapely head he was not at all like the rugged Abe. In a low tone and very modestly, with a slight brogue on his tongue hetold of his adventures on the long, shore road to Michigan. Ann satlistening and looking into his face as he talked. Abe came in, soon aftereight o'clock, and was introduced to the stranger. All noted the contrastbetween the two young men as they greeted each other. Abe sat down fora few minutes and looked sadly into the fire but said nothing. He rosepresently, excused himself and went away. 

Soon Samson followed him. Over at Offut's store he did not find Abe, but Bill Berry was drawing liquor from the spigot of a barrel set onblocks in a shed connected with the rear end of the store and servingit to a number of hilarious young Irishmen. His shirt was soiled. Itsmorning-glories had grown dim in a kind of dusty twilight. The young menasked Samson to join them. 

"No, thank you. I never touch it, " he said. 

"We'll come over here an' learn ye how to enjoy yerself some day, " one ofthem said. 

"I'm pretty well posted on that subject now, " Samson answered. 

It is likely that they would have begun his schooling at once but whenthey came out into the store and saw the big Vermonter standing in thecandlelight their laughter ceased for a moment. Bill was among them witha well filled bottle in his hand. 

He and the others got into a wagon which had been waiting at the door anddrove away with a wild Indian whoop from the lips of one of the youngmen. 

Samson sat down in the candlelight and Abe in a moment arrived. 

"I'm getting awful sick o' this business, " said Abe. 

"I kind o' guess you don't like the whisky part of it, " Samson remarked, as he felt a piece of cloth. 

"I hate it, " Abe went on. "It don't seem respectable any longer. "

"Back in Vermont we don't like the whisky business. "

"You're right, it breeds deviltry and disorder. In my youth I wassurrounded by whisky. Everybody drank it. A bottle or a jug of liquor wasthought to be as legitimate a piece of merchandise as a pound of tea or ayard of calico. That's the way I've always thought of it. But lately I'vebegun to get the Yankee notion about whisky. When it gets into badcompany it can raise the devil. "

Soon after nine o'clock Abe drew a mattress filled with corn husks fromunder the counter, cleared away the bolts of cloth and laid it where theyhad been and covered it with a blanket. 

"This is my bed, " said he. "I'll be up at five in the morning. Then I'llbe making tea here by the fireplace to wash down some jerked meat and ahunk o' bread. At six or a little after I'll be ready to go with youagain. Jack Kelso is going to look after the store to-morrow. "

He began to laugh. 

"Ye know when I went out of the tavern that little vixen stood peekin'into the window--Bim, Jack's girl, " said Abe. "I asked her why she didn'tgo in and she said she was scared. 'Who you 'fraid of?' I asked. 'Oh, Ireckon that boy, ' says she. And honestly her hand trembled when she tookhold of my arm and walked to her' father's house with me. "

Abe snickered as he spread another blanket. "What a cut-up she is! Say, we'll have some fun watching them two I reckon, " he said. 

The logs were ready two days after the cutting began. Martin Waddell andSamuel Hill sent teams to haul them. John Cameron and Peter Lukins hadbrought the window sash and some clapboards from Beardstown in a smallflat boat. Then came the day of the raising--a clear, warm day early inSeptember. All the men from the village and the near farms gathered tohelp make a home for the newcomers. Samson and Jack Kelso went out for ahunt after the cutting and brought in a fat buck and many grouse for thebee dinner, to which every woman of the neighborhood made a contributionof cake or pie or cookies or doughnuts. 

"What will be my part?" Samson had inquired of Kelso. 

"Nothing but a jug of whisky and a kind word and a house warming, " Kelsohad answered. 

They notched and bored the logs and made pins to bind them and cut thosethat were to go around the fireplace and window spaces. Strong, willingand well trained hands hewed and fitted the logs together. AlexanderFerguson lined the fireplace with a curious mortar made of clay in whichhe mixed grass for a binder. This mortar he rolled into layers called"cats, " each eight inches long and three inches thick. Then he laid themagainst the logs and held them in place with a woven network of sticks. The first fire--a slow one--baked the clay into a rigid stone-like sheathinside the logs and presently the sticks were burned away. The women hadcooked the meats by an open fire and spread the dinner on a table ofrough boards resting on poles set in crotches. At noon one of themsounded a conch shell. Then with shouts of joy the men hurried to thefireside and for a moment there was a great spluttering over the washbasins. Before they ate every man except Abe and Samson "took a pull atthe jug--long or short"--to quote a phrase of the time. 

It was a cheerful company that sat down upon the grass around the tablewith loaded plates. Their food had its extra seasoning of merry jests andloud laughter. Sarah was a little shocked at the forthright directness oftheir eating, no knives or forks or napkins being needed in that process. Having eaten, washed and packed away their dishes the women went home attwo. Before they had gone Samson's ears caught a thunder of horses' feetin the distance. Looking in its direction he saw a cloud of dust in theroad and a band of horsemen riding toward them at full speed. Abe came tohim and said:

"I see the boys from Clary's Grove are coming. If they get mean let medeal with 'em. It's my responsibility. I wouldn't wonder if they had someof Offut's whisky with them. "

The boys arrived in a cloud of dust and a chorus of Indian whoops anddismounted and hobbled their horses. They came toward the workers, ledby burly Jack Armstrong, a stalwart, hard-faced blacksmith of abouttwenty-two with broad, heavy shoulders, whose name has gone into history. They had been drinking some but no one of them was in the least degreeoff his balance. They scuffled around the jug for a moment in perfectgood nature and then Abe and Mrs. Waddell provided them with the bestremnants of the dinner. They were rather noisy. Soon they went up on theroof to help with the rafters and the clapboarding. They worked well afew minutes and suddenly they came scrambling down for another pullat the jug. They were out for a spree and Abe knew it and knew furtherthat they had reached the limit of discretion. 

"Boys, there are ladies here and we've got to be careful, " he said. "DidI ever tell you what Uncle Jerry Holman said of his bull calf? He saidthe calf was such a _suckcess_ that he didn't leave any milk for thefamily and that while the calf was growin' fat the children was growin'poor. In my opinion you're about fat enough for the present. Le's stickto the job till four o'clock. Then we'll knock off for refreshments. "

The young revelers gathered in a group and began to whisper together. Samson writes that it became evident then they were going to make troubleand says:

 * * * * *

"We had left the children at Rutledge's in the care of Ann. I went toSarah and told her she had better go on and see if they were all right. 

"'Don't you get in any fight, ' she said, which shows that the women knewwhat was in the air. 

"Sarah led the way and the others followed her. "

 * * * * *

Those big, brawny fellows from the grove when they got merry were lookingalways for a chance to get mad at some man and turn him into a plaything. A victim had been a necessary part of their sprees. Many a poor fellowhad been fastened in a barrel and rolled down hill or nearly drowned in aducking for their amusement. A chance had come to get mad and they weregoing to make the most of it. They began to growl with resentment. Somewere wigging their leader Jack Armstrong to fight Abe. One of them ran tohis horse and brought a bottle from his saddle-bag. It began passing frommouth to mouth. Jack Armstrong got the bottle before it was half emptied, drained it and flung it high in the air. Another called him a hog andgrappled him around the waist and there was a desperate struggle whichended quickly. Armstrong got a hold on the neck of his assailant andchoked him until he let go. This was not enough for the sturdy bully ofClary's Grove. He seized his follower and flung him so roughly on theground that the latter lay for a moment stunned. Armstrong had got hisblood warm and was now ready for action. With a wild whoop he threw offhis coats, unbuttoned his right shirt-sleeve and rolled it to theshoulder and declared in a loud voice, as he swung his arm in the air, that he could "out jump, out hop, out run, throw down, drag out an' lickany man in New Salem. "

In a letter to his father Samson writes:

 * * * * *

"Abe was working at my elbow. I saw him drop his hammer and get up andmake for the ladder. I knew something was going to happen and I followedhim. In a minute every one was off the roof and out of the building. Iguess they knew what was coming. The big lad stood there swinging his armand yelling like an Injun. It was a big arm and muscled and corded upsome but I guess if I'd shoved the calico off mine and held it up he'd apulled down his sleeve. I suppose the feller's arm had a kind of a mule'skick in it, but, good gracious! If he'd a seen as many arms as you an' Ihave that have growed up on a hickory helve he'd a known that his wasnothing to brag of. I didn't know just how good a man Abe was and I waskind o' scairt for a minute. I never found it so hard work to do nothin'as I did then. Honest my hands kind o' ached. I wanted to go an' cuffthat feller's ears an' grab hold o' him an' toss him over the ridge pole. Abe went right up to him an' said:

"'Jack, you ain't half so bad or half so cordy as ye think ye are. Yousay you can throw down any man here. I reckon I'll have to show ye thatyou're mistaken. I'll rassle with ye. We're friends an' we won't talkabout lickin' each other. Le's have a friendly rassle. '

"In a second the two men were locked together. Armstrong had lunged atAbe with a yell. There was no friendship in the way he took hold. He wasgoing to do all the damage he could in any way he could. He tried to buttwith his head and ram his knee into Abe's stomach as soon as they cametogether. Half drunk Jack is a man who would bite your ear off. It was norassle; it was a fight. Abe moved like lightning. He acted awful limberan' well greased. In a second he had got hold of the feller's neck withhis big right hand and hooked his left into the cloth on his hip. In thatway he held him off and shook him as you've seen our dog shake awoodchuck. Abe's blood was hot. If the whole crowd had piled on him Iguess he would have come out all right, for when he's roused there'ssomething in Abe more than bones and muscles. I suppose it's what I feelwhen he speaks a piece. It's a kind of lightning. I guess it's what ourminister used to call the power of the spirit. Abe said to me afterwardsthat he felt as if he was fighting for the peace and honor of New Salem. 

"A friend of the bully jumped in and tried to trip Abe. Harry Needlesstood beside me. Before I could move he dashed forward and hit thatfeller in the middle of his forehead and knocked him flat. Harry hadhit Bap McNoll the cock fighter. I got up next to the kettle then andtook the scum off it. Fetched one of them devils a slap with the side ofmy hand that took the skin off his face and rolled him over and over. When I looked again Armstrong was going limp. His mouth was open and histongue out. With one hand fastened to his right leg and the other on thenape of his neck Abe lifted him at arm's length and gave him a toss inthe air. Armstrong fell about ten feet from where Abe stood and lay therefor a minute. The fight was all out of him and he was kind of dazed andsick. Abe stood up like a giant and his face looked awful solemn. 

"'Boys, if there's any more o' you that want trouble you can have someoff the same piece, ' he said. 

"They hung their heads and not one of them made a move or said a word. Abe went to Armstrong and helped him up. 

"'Jack, I'm sorry that I had to hurt you. ' be said. 'You get on to yourhorse and go home. '

"'Abe, you're a better man than me, ' said the bully, as he offer'd hishand to Abe. 'I'll do anything you say. '"

 * * * * *

So the Clary's Grove gang was conquered. They were to make more troublebut not again were they to imperil the foundations of law and order inthe little community of New Salem. As they were starting away Bap McNollturned to Harry Needles and shouted: "I'll git even with you yet--youslab-sided son of a dog. "

That is not exactly what he said but it is near enough. 

CHAPTER V

IN WHICH THE CHARACTER OF BIM KELSO FLASHES OUT IN A STRANGE ADVENTURETHAT BEGINS THE WEAVING OF A LONG THREAD OF ROMANCE. 

The shell of the cabin was finished that day. Its puncheon floor was inplace but its upper floor was to be laid when the boards were ready. Itstwo doors were yet to be made and hung, its five windows to be fitted andmade fast, its walls to be chinked with clay mortar. Samson and Harrystayed that evening after the rest were gone, smoothing the puncheonfloor. They made a few nails at the forge after supper and went over toAbe's store about nine. Two of the Clary's Grove Gang who had tarried inthe village sat in the gloom of its little veranda apparently asleep. Dr. Allen, Jack Kelso, Alexander Ferguson and Martin Waddell were sitting byits fireside while Abe sat on the counter with his legs hanging off. 

"He's a tough oak stick of a man, " Kelso was saying. 

"Here he is now, " said Dr. Allen. "That lad you cuffed had to stop at myoffice for repairs. "

"I told you once to use a crowbar if you wanted to hit anybody, but neverto use your hands, " said Abe. 

"Well there wasn't any time to lose and there was no crowbar handy, " saidSamson. 

"That reminds me of a general who made the boys of his regiment promiseto let him do all the swearin', " Abe began. "One day a sergeant got intotrouble with a mule team. It was raining hard and the off mule balked. Wouldn't draw a pound. The sergeant got wet to the skin and swore a songof fourteen verses that was heard by half the regiment. The generalcalled him up for discipline. 

"'Young man, I thought it was understood that I was to do all theswearin', ' he said. 

"'So it was, ' said the sergeant, 'but that swearin' had to be done rightaway. You couldn't 'a' got there in time to do it if I'd 'a' sent forye. '"

"I'm sorry we had to have trouble, " Samson remarked, after the outburstof appreciation that followed Abe's story. "It's the only spot on theday. I'll never forget the kindness of the people of New Salem. "

"The raising bee is a most significant thing, " said Kelso. "Democracytends to universal friendship--each works for the crowd and the crowdfor each and there are no favorites. Every community is like the thousandfriends of Thebes. Most of its units stand together for the commongood--for justice, law and honor. The schools are spinning strands ofdemocracy out of all this European wool. Railroads are to pick them upand weave them into one great fabric. By and by we shall see the tenmillion friends of America standing together as did the thousand friendsof Thebes. "

"It's a great thought, " said Abe. 

"No man can estimate the size of that mighty phalanx of friendship alltrained in one school, " Kelso went on. "Two years ago the _EncyclopediaBritannica_ figured that the population of the United States in 1905would be 168, 000, 000 people, and in 1966, 672, 000, 000. Wealth, power, science, literature, all follow in the train of light and numbers. Thecauses which moved the sceptre of civilization from the Euphrates toWestern Europe will carry it from the latter to the New World. "

"They say that electricity and the development of the steam engine isgoing to make all men think alike, " said Abe. "If that's so Democracy andLiberty will spread over the earth. "

"The seed of Universal Brotherhood is falling far and wide and you cannot kill it, " Kelso continued. "Last year Mazzini said: 'There is onlyone sun in heaven for the whole earth, only one law for all who peopleit. We are here to found fraternally the unity of the human race so that, sometime, it may present but one fold and one Shepherd. "

Then Lincoln spoke again: "I reckon we are near the greatest years inhistory. It is a privilege to be alive. "

"And young, " Dr. Allen added. 

"Young! What a God's blessed thing is that!" said Kelso and then hequoted from Coleridge:

 "'Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying Where Hope clung feeding like a bee, Both were mine! Life went a maying With Nature, Hope and Poesy When I was young!'

"Abe, have ye learned the _Cotter's Saturday Night_?"

"Not yet. It's a heavy hog to hold but I'll get a grip on an ear anda hind leg and lift it out o' the pen before long. You see. "

"Don't fail to do that. It will be a help and joy to ye. "

"Old Kirkham is a hard master, " said Abe. "I hear his bell ringing everytime I get a minute's leisure. I'm nigh through with him. Now I want tostudy rhetoric. "

"Only schoolmasters study rhetoric, " Kelso declared. "A real poet or areal orator is born with all the rhetoric he needs. We should get ourrhetoric as we get our oxygen--unconsciously--by reading the masters. Rhetoric is a steed for a light load under the saddle but he's too warmblooded for the harness. He was for the day of the plumed knight--not forthese times. No man of sense would use a prancing horse on a plow or astone boat. A good plow horse is a beautiful thing. The play of hismuscles, the power of his stride are poetry to me but when he tries toput on style he is ridiculous. That suggests what rhetoric is apt to doto the untrained intellect. If you've anything to say or write headstraight across, the field and keep your eye on the furrow. Then comesthe sowing and how beautiful is the sower striding across the field inhis suit of blue jeans, with that wonderful gesture, so graceful, soimperious! Put him in a beaver hat and broadcloth and polished calfskinand a frilled shirt and you couldn't think of anything more ridiculous!"

In the last diary of Samson Henry Traylor is this entry:

 * * * * *

"I went to Gettysburg with the President to-day and sat near him when hespoke. Mr. Everett addressed the crowd for an hour or so. As Kelso wouldsay 'He rode the prancing steed of Rhetoric. ' My old friend went straightacross the field and his look and gestures reminded me of that picture ofthe sower which Jack gave us one night long ago in Abe's store. Throughmy tears I could see the bucket hanging on his elbow and the good seedflying far and wide from his great hand. When he finished the field, plowed and harrowed and fertilized by war, had been sowed for all time. The spring's work was done and well done. "

 * * * * *

At a quarter of ten the Doctor rose and said:

"We're keeping Abe from his sleep and wearing the night away withphilosophy. I'm going home. "

"I came over to see if you could find a man to help me to-morrow, " Samsonsaid to Abe. "Harry is going over to do the chinking alone. I want a manto help me on the whipsaw while I cut some boards for the upperflooring. "

"I'll help you myself, " Abe proposed. "I reckon I'll close the storeto-morrow unless Jack will tend it. "

"You can count on me, " said Jack. "I'm short of sleep anyhow and a day ofrest will do me good. "

Abe went with his friends to the door beyond which the two boys fromClary's Grove sat as if sound asleep. It is probable, however, that theyhad heard what Samson had said to Abe. 

"Well, I didn't know these wild turkeys were roosting here, " Abe laughed. He roused them from their slumbers and said: "Boys, you're trying to sawthe day off a little too short. It's got to run till you get to Clary'sGrove. Better take those horses home and feed 'em. "

The boys got up and yawned and stretched themselves and mounted theirhorses which had been tied to a bar and rode away in the darkness. 

Next morning Abe and Samson set out for the woods soon after daylight. 

"I like that boy Harry, " said Abe. "I reckon he's got good stuff in him. The way he landed on Bap McNoll was a caution. I like to see a fellercome right up to the scratch, without an invitation just in the nicko' time, as he did. "

"Did you see him jump in?" Samson asked. 

"I saw everything some way. I saw you when ye loosened the ear o' JohnCallyhan. That tickled me. But the way I felt yesterday--honest, itseemed as if I could handle 'em all. That boy Harry is a likely youngcolt--strong and limber and well put together and broad between theeyes. "

"An' gentle as a kitten, " Samson added. "There never was a better face ona boy or a better heart behind it. We like him. "

"Yes, sir. He's a well topped young tree--straight and sound and goodtimber. Looks as if that little girl o' Jack's was terribly took up withhim. I don't wonder. There are not many boys like Harry around here. "

"What kind of a girl is she?" Samson asked. 

"Awful shy since the arrow hit her. She don't know what it means yet. She'll get used to that I reckon. She's a good girl and smart as a steeltrap. Her father takes her out on the plains with him shooting. She canhandle a gun as well as anybody and ride a horse as if she had growed tohis back. Every body likes Bim but she has her own way of behaving andsometimes it's awful new-fashioned. "

Harry Needles went whistling up the road toward the new house withsickle, hoe and trowel. As he passed the Kelso cabin he whistled thetune of _Sweet Nightingale_. It had haunted his mind since he had heardit in the woods. He whistled as loudly as ever he could and looked at thewindows. Before he had passed Bim's face looked out at him with a smileand her hand flickered back of the panes and he waved his to her. Hisheart beat fast as he hurried along. 

"I'm not so very young, " he said to himself. "I wish I hadn't put onthese old clothes. Mrs. Traylor is an awful nice woman but she'sdetermined to make me look like a plow horse. I don't see why shecouldn't let me wear decent clothes. "

Sarah had enjoyed mothering the boy. His health had returned. His cheekswere ruddy, his dark eyes clear and bright, his tall form erect andsturdy. Moreover the affectionate care his new friends had given him andhis interest in the girl filled his heart with the happiness which is therain of youth and without which it becomes an arid desert. 

He had helped Alexander Ferguson with the making of the fireplace andknew how to mix the mortar. He worked with a will for his heart was inthe new home. It was a fine September morning. The warm sunlight had setthe meadow cocks a crowing. The far reaches of the great, grassy plainwere dimmed with haze. It was a vast, flowery wilderness, waving andmurmuring in the breeze like an ocean. How long those acres, sown by thewinds of heaven, had waited for the plowman now arrived!

Harry felt the beauty of the scene but saw and enjoyed more the face ofBim Kelso as he worked and planned his own house--no cabin but a mansionlike that of Judge Harper in the village near his old home. He had filledevery crevice in the rear wall and was working on the front when he heardthe thunder of running horses and saw those figures, dim in a cloud ofdust, flying up the road again. He thought of the threat of Bap McNoll. It occurred to him that he would be in a bad way alone with thoseruffians if they were coming for revenge. He stepped into the door of thehouse and stood a moment debating what he would best do. He thought ofrunning toward the grove, which was a few rods from the rear door of thehouse, and hiding there. He couldn't bear to run. Bim and all the rest ofthem would hear of it. So with the sickle in his right hand he stoodwaiting inside the house and hoping they wouldn't stop. They rode up tothe door and dismounted quietly and hobbled their horses. There were fiveof them who crowded into the cabin with McNoll in the lead. 

"Now, you young rooster, you're goin' to git what's comin' to you, " hegrowled. 

The boy faced them bravely and warned them away with his sickle. Theywere prepared for such emergencies. One of them drew a bag of bird shotfrom his pocket and hurled it at Harry's head. It hit him full in theface and he staggered against the wall stunned by the blow. They rushedupon the boy and disarmed and bore him to the floor. For a little timehe knew not what was passing. When he came to, his hands and feet weretied and the men stood near, cursing and laughing, while their leader, McNoll, was draining a bottle. Suddenly he heard a voice trembling withexcitement and wet with tears saying:

"You go 'way from here or I'll kill you dead. So help me God I'll killyou. If one o' you touches him he's goin' to die. "

He saw Bim Kelso at the window with her gun leveled at the head ofMcNoll. Her face was red with anger. Her eyes glowed. As he looked atear welled from one of them and trailed down the scarlet surface of hercheek. McNoll turned without a word and walked sulkily out of the backdoor. The others crowded after him. They ran as soon as they had got outof the door. She left the window. In a moment the young men weregalloping away. 

Bim came into the house sobbing with emotion but with her head erect. She stood her gun in a corner and knelt by the helpless boy. He wascrying also. Her hair fell upon his face as she looked at the spot ofdeep scarlet color made by the shot bag. She kissed it and held her cheekagainst his and whispered: "Don't cry. It's all over now. I'm going tocut these ropes. "

It was as if she had known and loved him always. She was like a youngmother with her first child. Tendeny she wiped his tears away with herblond, silken hair. She cut his bonds and he rose and stood before her. Her face changed like magic. 

"Oh what a fool I've been!" she exclaimed. 

"Why so?" he asked. 

"I cried and I kissed you and we never have been introduced to eachother. "

She covered her eyes with her hair and with bent head went out of thedoor. 

"I'll never forget that kiss as long as I live, " said the boy as hefollowed her. "I'll never forget your help or your crying either. "

"How I must have looked!" she went on, walking toward her pony that washitched to a near tree. 

"You were beautiful!" he exclaimed. 

"Go away from me--I won't speak to you, " she said. "Go back to your work. I'll stay here and keep watch. "

The boy returned to his task pointing up the inside walls but his mindand heart were out in the sunlight talking with Bim. Once he looked outof the door and saw her leaning against the neck of the pony, her facehidden in his mane. When the sun was low she came to the door and said:

"You had better stop now and go home. "

She looked down at the ground and added:

"Please, please, don't tell on me. "

"Of course not, " he answered. "But I hope you won't be afraid of me anymore. "

She looked up at him with a little smile. "Do you think I'm afraid of_you_?" she asked as if it were too absurd to be thought of. Sheunhitched and mounted her pony but did not go. 

"I do wish you could raise a mustache, " she said, looking wistfully intohis face. 

Involuntarily his hand went to his lip. 

"I could try, " he said. 

"I can't bear to see you look so terribly young; you get worse and worseevery time I see you, " she scolded plaintively. "I want you to be aregular man right quick. "

He wondered what he ought to say and presently stammered: "I--I--intendto. I guess I'm more of a man than anybody would think to look at me. "

"You're too young to ever fall in love I reckon. "

"No I'm not, " he answered with decision. 

"Have you got a razor?" she asked. 

"No. "

"I reckon it would be a powerful help. You put soap on your lip and mowit off with a razor. My father says it makes the grass grow. "

There was a moment of silence during which she brushed the mane of herpony. Then she asked timidly: "Do you play on the flute?"

"No, why?"

"I think it would break my heart. My Uncle Henry plays all day and itmakes him look crazy. Do you like yellow hair?"

"Yes, if it looks like yours. "

"If you don't mind I'll put a mustache on you just--just to look at everytime I think of you. "

"When I think of you I put violets in your hair, " he said. 

He took a step toward her as he spoke and as he did so she started herpony. A little way off she checked him and said:

"I'm sorry. There are no violets now. "

She rode away slowly waving her hand and singing with the joy of a birdin the springtime:

 "My sweetheart, come along Don't you hear the glad song As the notes of the nightingale flow? Don't you hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale As she sings in the valleys below-- As she sings in the valleys below?"

He stood looking and listening. The song came to him as clear and sweetas the notes of a vesper bell wandering in miles of silence. 

When it had ceased he felt his lip and said: "How slow the time passes!I'm going to get some shaving soap and a razor. "

That evening when Harry was helping Samson with the horses he said:

"I'm going to tell you a secret. I wish you wouldn't say anything aboutit. "

Samson stood pulling the hair out of his card and looking very stern ashe listened while Harry told of the assault upon him and how Bim hadarrived and driven the rowdies away with her gun but he said not a wordof her demonstration of tender sympathy. To him that had clothed thewhole adventure with a kind of sanctity so that he could not bear to haveit talked about. 

Samson's eyes glowed with anger. They searched the face of the boy. Hisvoice was deep and solemn when he said:

"This is a serious matter. Why do you wish to keep it a secret?"

The boy blushed. For a moment he knew not what to say. Then he spoke: "Itain't me so much--it's her, " he managed to say. "She wouldn't want it tobe talked about and I don't either. "

Samson began to understand. "She's quite a girl I guess, " he saidthoughtfully. "She must have the nerve of a man--I declare she must. "

"Yes-sir-ee! They'd 'a' got hurt if they hadn't gone away, that's sure, "said Harry. 

"We'll look out for them after this, " Samson rejoined. "The first timeI meet that man McNoll he'll have to settle with me and he'll pay cash onthe nail. "

Bim having heard of Harry's part in Abe's fight and of the fact that hewas to be working alone all day at the new house had ridden out throughthe woods to the open prairie and hunted in sight of the new cabin thatafternoon. Unwilling to confess her extreme interest in the boy she hadsaid not a word of her brave act. It was not shame; it was partly a kindof rebellion against the tyranny of youthful ardor; it was partly thefear of ridicule. 

So it happened that the adventure of Harry Needles made scarcely a rippleon the sensitive surface of the village life. It will be seen, however, that it had started strong undercurrents likely, in time, to makethemselves felt. 

The house and barn were finished whereupon Samson and Harry drove toSpringfield--a muddy, crude and growing village with thick woods on itsnorth side--and bought furniture. Their wagon was loaded and they wereready to start for home. They were walking on the main street when Harrytouched Samson's arm and whispered:

"There's McNoll and Callyhan. "

The pair were walking a few steps ahead of Samson and Harry. In a secondSamson's big hand was on McNoll's shoulder. 

"This is Mr. McNoll, I believe, " said Samson. 

The other turned with a scared look. 

"What do ye want o' me?" he demanded. 

Samson threw him to the ground with a jerk so strong and violent that itrent the sleeve from his shoulder. McNoll's companion who had felt theweight of Samson's hand and had had enough of it turned and ran. 

"What do ye want o' me?" McNoll asked again as he struggled to freehimself. 

"What do I want o' you--you puny little coward, " said Samson, as helifted the bully to his feet and gave him a toss and swung him in the airand continued to address him. "I'm just goin' to muss you up proper. Ifyou don't say you're sorry and mean it I'll put a tow string on your neckand give you to some one that wants a dog. "

"I'm sorry, " said McNoll. "Honest I am! I was drunk when I done it. "

Samson released his prisoner. A number in the crowd which had gatheredaround them clapped their hands and shouted, "Hurrah for the stranger!"

A constable took Samson's hand and said: "You deserve a vote of thanks. That man and his friends have made me more trouble than all the rest ofthe drinking men put together. "

"And I am making trouble for myself, " said Samson. "I have made myselfashamed. I am no fighting man, I was never in such a muss on a publicstreet before and with God's help it will never happen again. "

"Where do you live?" the officer asked. 

"In New Salem. "

"I wish it was here. We need men like you. What part of the East do youhail from?"

"Vermont, " Samson answered. "I've just bought land and built a cabin alittle west of the village. Came here for a load of furniture. "

"I'm a Maine man and a Whig and opposed to slavery and my name is ErastusWright, " said the constable. 

"I am a Whig and against slavery, " Samson volunteered. 

"I could tell that by the look of you, " said the constable. "Some day wemust sit down together and talk things over. "

Samson wrote in his diary:

 * * * * *

"On the way home my heart was sore. I prayed in silence that God wouldforgive me for my bad example to the boy. I promised that I would notagain misuse the strength He has given me. In my old home I would havebeen disgraced by it. The minister would have preached of the destructionthat follows the violent man to put him down; the people would havelooked askance at me. Deacon Somers would have called me aside to lookinto my soul, and Judge Grandy and his wife would not have invited me totheir parties. Here it's different. A chap who can take the law in hishands and bring the evil man to his senses, even if he has to hit himover the head, is looked up to. That day a number of men and boysincreased my shame by following us to the wagon and wanting to shakehands and feel of my muscles and paining my soul with praise. It's areckless country. You feel it as soon as you get here. In time, I fear, I shall be as headlong as the rest of them. Some way the news of my acthas got here from Springfield. Sarah was kind of cut up. Jack Kelso hasnicknamed me 'The man with the iron arms, ' and Abe, who is a better manevery way, laughs at my embarrassment and says I ought to feel honored. For one thing Jack Armstrong has become a good citizen. His wife hasfoxed a pair of breeches for Abe. They say McNoll has left the country. There has been no deviltry here since that day. I guess the gang isbroken up--too much iron in its way. "

 * * * * *

Sarah enjoyed fixing up the cabin. Jack Kelso had given her some deer andbuffalo skins to lay on the floors. The upper room, reached by a stickladder, had its two beds, one of which Harry occupied. The children sleptbelow in a trundle bed that was pushed under the larger one when it wasmade up in the morning. 

"Some time I'm going to put in a windletrap and get rid o' that stickladder, " Samson had said. 

Sarah had all the arts of the New England home maker. Under her hand thecabin, in color, atmosphere and general neatness, would have delighted ahigher taste than was to be found on the prairies, save in the brain ofKelso who really had some acquaintance with beauty. To be sure the bedwas in one corner, spread with its upper cover knit of gray yarnharmonizing in color with the bark of the log walls. A handsome darkbrown buffalo robe lay beside it. The rifle and powder horn were hungabove the mantel. The fireplace had its crane of wrought iron. 

Every one in the little village came to the house warming. 

"There is nothing in America so beautiful as 'this here kind o' thing'when the firelight shines upon it, " said Kelso who often indulged in thevernacular of the real ladder climbers. 

"Well, of course, it isn't like Boston or New York, " Sarah answered. 

"Thank God!" Kelso exclaimed. "New York hurts my feelings, so many of itsbuildings are of grand design and small proportions. Mrs. Traylor, youare lucky to have this beautiful island in an ocean of music. There ismusic in the look and sound of these meadows--bird music, wind music, the level music of Felician David's Desert. Perhaps you don't know aboutthat and really it doesn't matter. Traylor, tune up your fiddle. "

Samson began to play, stopping often to give the hand of welcome to aguest. The people of New Salem were in their best clothes. The women woredresses of new calico--save Mrs. Dr. Allen, who wore a black silk dresswhich had come with her from her late home in Lexington. Bim Kelso camein a dress of red muslin trimmed with white lace. Ann Rutledge also worea red dress and came with Abe. The latter was rather grotesque in his newlinsey trousers, of a better length than the former pair, but still tooshort. 

"It isn't fair to blame the trousers or the tailor, " he had said when hehad tried them on. "My legs are so long that the imagination of thetailor is sure to fall short if the cloth don't. Next time I'll have 'emmade to measure with a ten-foot pole instead of a yardstick. If they'retoo long I can roll 'em up and let out a link or two when they shrink. Ever since I was a boy I have been troubled with shrinking pants. "

Abe wore a blue swallow-tail coat with brass buttons, the tails of whichwere so short as to be well above the danger of pressure when he satdown. His cowhide shoes had been well blackened; the blue yarn of hissocks showed above them. "These darned socks of mine are rather proud andconceited, " he used to say. "They like to show off. "

He wore a shirt of white, unbleached cotton, a starched collar and blacktie. 

In speaking of his collar to Samson, he said that he felt like a wildhorse in a box stall. 

Mentor Graham, the schoolmaster, was there--a smooth-faced man with alarge head, sandy hair and a small mustache, who spoke by note, as itwere. Kelso called him the great articulator and said that he walked inthe valley of the shadow of Lindley Murray. He seemed to keep a watchfuleye on his words, as if they were a lot of schoolboys not to be trusted. They came out with a kind of self-conscious rectitude. 

The children's games had begun and the little house rang with their songsand laughter, while their elders sat by the fire and along the wallstalking. Ann Rutledge and Bim Kelso and Harry Needles and John McNeilplayed with them. In one of the dances all joined in singing the verses:

 I won't have none o' yer' weevily wheat, I won't have none o' yer barley; I won't have none o' yer' weevily wheat, To make a cake for Charley. 

 Charley is a fine young man, Charley is a dandy, Charley likes to kiss the girls, Whenever it comes handy. 

When a victim was caught in the flying scrimmage at the end of a passagein the game of Prisoners, he or she was brought before a blindfoldedjudge:

"Heavy, heavy hangs over your head, " said the Constable. 

"Fine or superfine?" the judge inquired. 

"Fine, " said the Constable, which meant that the victim was a boy. Thenthe sentence was pronounced and generally it was this:

"Go bow to the wittiest, kneel to the prettiest and kiss the one that youlove best. "

Harry was the first prisoner. He went straight to Bim Kelso and bowed andknelt, and when he had risen she turned and ran like a scared deer aroundthe chairs and the crowd of onlookers, some assisting and some checkingher flight, before the nimble youth. Hard pressed, she ran out of theopen door, with a merry laugh, and just beyond the steps Harry caughtand kissed her, and her cheeks had the color of roses when he led herback. 

John McNeil kissed Ann Rutledge that evening and was most attentive toher, and the women were saying that the two had fallen in love with eachother. 

"See how she looks at him, " one of them whispered. 

"Well, it's just the way he looks at her, " the other answered. 

At the first pause in the merriment Kelso stood on a chair, and thensilence fell upon the little company. 

"My good neighbors, " he began, "we are here to rejoice that new friendshave come to us and that a new home is born in our midst. We bid themwelcome. They are big boned, big hearted folks. No man has grown largewho has not at one time or another had his feet in the soil and felt itsmagic power going up into his blood and bone and sinew. Here is awonderful soil and the inspiration of wide horizons; here are broad andfertile fields. Where the corn grows high you can grow statesmen. It maybe that out of one of these little cabins a man will come to carry thetorch of Liberty and Justice so high that its light will shine into everydark place. So let no one despise the cabin--humble as it is. Samson andSarah Traylor, I welcome and congratulate you. Whatever may come, you canfind no better friends than these, and of this you may be sure, no childof the prairies will ever go about with a hand organ and a monkey. Ourfriend, Honest Abe, is one of the few rich men in this neighborhood. Among his assets are Kirkham's Grammar, _The Pilgrim's Progress_, theLives of Washington and Henry Clay, Hamlet's Soliloquy, Othello'sSpeech to the Senate, Marc Antony's address and a part of Webster's replyto Hayne. A man came along the other day and sold him a barrel of rubbishfor two bits. In it he found a volume of Blackstone's _Commentaries_. OldBlackstone challenged him to a wrestle and Abe has grappled with him. Ireckon he'll take his measure as easily as he took Jack Armstrong's. Lately he has got possession of a noble asset. It is the _Cotter'sSaturday Night_, by Robert Burns. I propose to ask him to let us sharehis enjoyment of this treasure. "

Abe, who had been sitting with his legs doubled beneath him on a buffaloskin, between Joe and Betsey Traylor, rose and said:

"Mr. Kelso's remarks, especially the part which applied to me, remind meof the story of the prosperous grocer of Joliet. One Saturday night heand his boys were busy selling sausage. Suddenly in came a man with whomhe had quarreled and laid two dead cats on the counter. 

"'There, ' said he, 'this makes seven to-day. I'll call Monday and get mymoney. '

"We were doing a good business here making fun. It seems a pity to ruinit and throw suspicion on the quality of the goods by throwing a cat onthe counter. I'll only throw one cat. It is entitled:

 MY SISTER SUE

 "Say, boys, I guess 'at none o' you Has ever seen my sister Sue, She kin rassle an' turn han'springs kerflop, But Jimmy Crimps!--ye should see her hop! Yes, sir!

 "She kin h'ist one foot an' go like Ned! An' hop on top o' my mother's bed, An' back an' round the house she'll go, 'Ith her ol' knee as limber as a hickory bow, Yes, sir!

 "She kin sing a hull song 'ithout ketchin' her breath, An' make up a face 'at 'ud scare ye to death! She kin wiggle her ears an' cross her eyes An' stick out her tongue till yer hair 'ud rise. Yes, sir!

 "An' play wildcat on her han's an' knees, Honest! 'T would give ye the gibberees! An' she sneaks along an' jumps at you An' gives sech a yell!--my sister Sue! Yes, sir!

 "She kin shoot off a gun an' set a trap, An' if you don't behave she kin give you a slap She kin holler and scream like a flock o' geese An' stan' on her head an' speak a piece. Yes, sir!

 "She kin run cross legged an' ride a cow, An' jump from the beam to the big hay mow. I reckon yer hair 'ud stan' up to see 'er A breakin' a colt er throwin' a steer, Yes, sir!

 "My sister Susan has got a beau. When he comes she sets an' acts jes' so, An' talks so proper--it's zac'ly jes Like the flummididles on her dress, Yes, sir!

 "When she stan's in that darn ol' Sunday gown Ye'd think a grasshopper could knock 'er down. An' she laughs kind o' sick--like a kitten's mew-- Ye wouldn't think 'twas my sister Sue, No, sir!

 "An' she says: 'Oh, dear! those horrid boys! They act so rough an' make sech a noise!' Good gracious! ye wouldn't think 'at she Could talk as loud as a bumble bee-- No, sirs

 "Honest! Er lift a chip o' wood, She acts so puny an' nice an' good! 'Boys are awful!' she says, 'till they're grown, Er nelse they got to be yer own!' Oh, gosh!"

This raised a storm of merriment, after which he recited the poem ofBurns, with keen appreciation of its quality. Samson repeatedly writes ofhis gift for interpretation, especially of the comic, and now and thenlays particular stress on his power of mimicry. 

John Cameron sang _The Sword of Bunker Hill_ and _Forty Years Ago, Tom_. Samson played while the older people danced until midnight. Then, afternoisy farewells, men, women and children started in the moonlit roadtoward the village. Ann Rutledge had Abe on one arm and John McNeil onthe other. 

CHAPTER VI

WHICH DESCRIBES THE LONELY LIFE IN A PRAIRIE CABIN AND STIRRING ADVENTUREON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD ABOUT THE TIME IT BEGAN OPERATIONS. 

When Samson paid Mr. Gollaher, a "detector" came with the latter to lookat the money before it was accepted. There were many counterfeits andbills good only at a certain discount of face value, going about thosedays and the detector was in great request. Directly after moving in, Samson dug a well and lined it with a hollow log. He bought tools andanother team and then he and Harry began their fall plowing. Day afterday for weeks they paced with their turning furrows until a hundredacres, stretching half a mile to the west and well to the north of thehouse, were black with them. Fever and ague descended upon the littlehome in the early winter. 

In a letter to her brother, dated January 4th, 1832, Sarah writes:

 * * * * *

"We have been longing for news from home, but not a word has come fromyou. It don't seem as if we could stand it unless we hear from you orsome of the folks once in a while. We are not dead just because we are athousand miles away. We want to hear from you. Please write and let usknow how father and mother are and all the news. Is Elizabeth Ranneymarried yet, and how does the minister get along with his new wife? Wehave all been sick with the fever and ague. It is a beautiful country andthe soil very rich, but there is some sickness. Samson and I were bothsick at the same time. I never knew Samson to give up before. He couldn'tgo on, his head ached so. Little Joe helped me get the fire started andbrought some water and waited on us. Then the little man put on his coatand mittens and trudged away to the village with Betsey after the doctor. Harry Needles had gone away to Springfield for Mr. Offut with a drove ofhogs. Two other boys are with him. He is going to buy a new suit. He is avery proud boy. Joe and Betsey got back with the doctor at nine. Thatnight Abe Lincoln came and sat up with us and gave us our medicine andkept the fire going. It was comical to see him lying beside Joe in histrundle bed, with his long legs sticking over the end of it and his feetstanding on the floor about a yard from the bed. He was spread all overthe place. He talked about religion, and his views would shock most ofour friends in the East. He doesn't believe in the kind of Heaven thatthe ministers talk about or any eternal hell. He says that nobody knowsanything about the hereafter, except that God is a kind and forgivingfather and that all men are His children. He says that we can only serveGod by serving each other. He seems to think that every man, good or bad, black or white, rich or poor, is his brother. He thinks that Henry Clay, next to Daniel Webster, is the greatest man in the country. He isstudying hard. Expects to go out and make speeches for Clay next summer. He is quite severe in his talk against General Jackson. He and Samsonagree in politics and religion. They are a good deal alike. He is veryfond of Samson and Harry--calls them his partners. He said to Samson theother evening. 

"I want you for a friend always. If you can stand it, I would like mystory to be a part of yours. If you say so, we'll stick to the same boatand pole her over the shoals and carry her across the bends and see if wecan get to good going in deep water. When the channel will permit, we canput in a steam engine. '

"We love this big awkward giant. His feet are set in the straight way andwe think that he is going to make his mark in the world. 

"When I went to sleep he lay in the trundle bed, with two candles burningon the stand beside him, reading that big green book of mine entitled_The Works of William Shakespeare_. He had brought a law book with him, but he got interested in William Shakespeare and couldn't let it alone. He said that he was like a mired horse whenever he began to read a playof the immortal bard, and that he had to take his time in getting out. When he went away next morning he borrowed Samson's pack basket. I feltbad because we couldn't go and make any arrangements with Santa Claus forthe children. Joe was dreadfully worried, for Betsey had told him thatSanta Claus never came to children whose father and mother were sick. Christmas Eve Abe came with the pack basket chock-full of good thingsafter the children were asleep. He took out a turkey and knit caps andmittens and packages of candy and raisins for the children and some clothfor a new dress for me. Mrs. Kelso had come to spend the night with us, although Samson and I were so much better it really wasn't necessary. Imade her go up the ladder to bed before midnight. That evening a short, fat Santa Claus came in with a loaded pack. He had a long, brown beardand a red nose and carried a new clay pipe in his mouth and was very muchbundled up. 

"We called the children. They stood looking at Santa Claus, and SantaClaus stood looking at them. He gave them mufflers and some candy heartsand tried to pick them up. They ran away and he chased them under our bedand got hold of Joe's foot and tried to pull him out, and Joe holloredlike a painter, and Santa Claus dropped his pipe and sat down on thefloor and began laughing. I saw it was Bim Kelso. Abe left with her, andI suppose they went back to the village and around in a regular SantaClaus spree. 

"Mrs. Kelso said that she had been making a beard of pieces of buffaloskin and fitting up an old suit of her father's clothes that afternoon. I wonder what she'll do next. It's terrible to be so much in love and notquite seventeen. Harry is as bad as she is. I wish they had been a littleolder before they met. 

"Joe said yesterday that he was going back to Vergennes. 

"'How are you going to get there?' I asked. 

"'Abe's going to make me a pair o' wings, and I'm going to smash right upthrough the sky and go awa-a-y off to Vergennes and play with Ben andLizzie Tyler. Abe says there ain't no bad roads up there. '

"I asked him what I should do if he went away and left me like that. 

"'Oh, I'll come right back, ' he said, 'and maybe I'll see Heaven way upin the clouds. If I do I'll stop there in a tavern over night and buysomething for you. '

"In a minute a new idea came to him and he said:

"'I guess Abe would make a pair of wings for you if you'd ask him. '

"Often I wish for wings, and always when I think of those who are dearto me and so far away. You said you would come out next spring to lookabout. Please don't disappoint us. I think it would almost break myheart. I am counting the days. Some time ago I put down 142 straightmarks on my old slate, that being the number of days before May 1. Everynight I rub off one of them and thank God that you are one day nearer. Don't be afraid of fever and ague. Sapington's pills cure it in three orfour days. I would take the steamboat at Pittsburg, the roads in Ohio andIndiana are so bad. You can get a steamer up the Illinois River at Altonand get off at Beardstown and drive across country. If we knew when youwere coming Samson or Abe would meet you. Give our love to all the folksand friends. 

"Yours affectionately, "Sarah and Samson. "

 * * * * *

It had been a cold winter and not easy to keep comfortable in the littlehouse. In the worst weather Samson used to get up at night to keep thefire going. Late in January a wind from the southeast melted the snow andwarmed the air of the midlands so that, for a week or so, it seemed as ifspring were come. One night of this week Sambo awoke the family with hisbarking. A strong wind was rushing across the plains and roaring over thecabin and wailing in its chimney. Suddenly there was a rap on its door. When Samson opened it he saw in the moonlight a young colored man andwoman standing near the door-step. 

"Is dis Mistah Traylor?" the young man asked. 

"It is, " said Samson. "What can I do for you?"

"Mas'r, de good Lord done fotched us here to ask you fo' help, " said thenegro. "We be nigh wone out with cold an' hungah, suh, 'deed we be. "

Samson asked them in and put wood on the fire, and Sarah got up and madesome hot tea and brought food from the cupboard and gave it to thestrangers, who sat shivering in the firelight. They were a good-lookingpair, the young woman being almost white. They were man and wife. Thelatter stopped eating and moaned and shook with emotion as her husbandtold their story. Their master had died the year before and they had beenbrought to St. Louis to be sold in the slave market. There they hadescaped by night and gone to the house of an old friend of their formerowner who lived north of the city on the river shore. He had taken pityon them and brought them across the Mississippi and started them on thenorth road with a letter to Elijah Lovejoy of Alton and a supply of food. Since then they had been hiding days in the swamps and thickets and hadtraveled by night. Mr. Lovejoy had sent them to Erastus Wright ofSpringfield, and Mr. Wright had given them the name of Samson Traylor andthe location of his cabin. From there they were bound for the house ofJohn Peasley, in Hopedale, Tazewell County. 

Lovejoy had asked them to keep the letter with which they had begun theirtravels. Under its signature he had written: "I know the writer and knowthat the above was written with his own hand. His word can be reliedupon. To all who follow or respect the example of Jesus Christ I commendthis man and woman. "

The letter stated that their late master had often expressed his purposeof leaving them their freedom when he should pass away. He had left nowill and since his death the two had fallen into the hands of his nephew, a despotic, violent young drunkard of the name of Biggs, who had ruledhis servants with club and bull whip and who in a temper had killed ayoung negro a few months before. The fugitives said that they wouldrather die than go back to him. 

Samson was so moved by their story that he hitched up his horses and putsome hay in the wagon box and made off with the fugitives up the road tothe north in the night. When daylight came he covered them with the hay. About eight o'clock he came to a frame house and barn, the latter beingof unusual size for that time and country. Above the door of the barnwas a board which bore the stenciled legend: "John Peasley, Orwell Farm. "

As Samson drew near the house he observed a man working on the roof ofa woodshed. Something familiar in his look held the eye of the New Salemman. In half a moment he recognized the face of Henry Brimstead. It wasnow a cheerful face. Brimstead came down the ladder and they shook hands. 

"Good land o' Goshen! How did you get here?" Samson asked. Brimsteadanswered:

"Through the help of a feller that looks like you an' the grit of a pairo' hosses. Come down this road early in September on my way to the lando' plenty. Found Peasley here. Couldn't help it. Saw his name on thebarn. Used to go to school with him in Orwell. He offered to sell me someland with a house on it an' trust me for his pay. I liked the looks o'the country and so I didn't go no further. I was goin' to write you aletter, but I hain't got around to it yet. Ain't forgot what you done forus, I can tell ye that. "

"Well, this looks better than the sand plains--a lot better--and you lookbetter than that flea farmer back in York State. How are the children?"

"Fat an' happy an' well dressed. Mrs. Peasley has been a mother to 'eman' her sister is goin' to be a wife to me. " He came close to Samson andadded in a confidential tone: "Say, if I was any happier I'd be scairt. I'm like I was when I got over the toothache--so scairt for fear it wouldcome back I was kind o' miserable. "

Mr. Peasley came out of the door. He was a big, full bearded, jovial man. 

"I've got a small load o' hay for you, " said Samson. 

"I was expecting it, though I supposed 'twould be walkin'--in the dark o'the night, " Peasley answered. "Drive in on the barn floor. "

When Samson had driven into the barn its doors were closed and thenegroes were called from their place of hiding. Samson writes:

 * * * * *

"I never realized what a blessing it is to be free until I saw thatscared man and woman crawling out from under the dusty hay and shakingthemselves like a pair of dogs. The weather was not cold or I guess theywould have been frozen. They knelt together on the barn floor and thewoman prayed for God's protection through the day. I knew what slaverymust mean when I saw what they were suffering to get away from it. Whenthey came in the night I felt the call of God to help them. Now I knewthat I was among the chosen to lead in a great struggle. Peasley broughtfood for them and stowed them away on the top of his hay mow with a pairof buffalo skins. I suppose they got some sleep there. I went into thehouse to breakfast and while I ate Brimstead told me about his trip. Hischildren were there. They looked clean and decent. He lived in a logcabin a little further up the road. Mrs. Peasley's sister waited on me. She is a fat and cheerful looking lady, very light complected. Her hairis red--like tomato ketchup. Looks to me a likely, stout armed, goodhearted woman who can do a lot of hard work. She can see a joke and hasan answer handy every time. "

 * * * * *

For details of the remainder of the historic visit of Samson Traylor tothe home of John Peasley we are indebted to a letter from John to hisbrother Charles, dated February 21, 1832. In this he says:

 * * * * *

"We had gone out to the barn and Brimstead and I were helping Mr. Traylorhitch up his horses. All of a sudden two men came riding up the roadat a fast trot and turned in and come straight toward us and pulled upby the wagon. One of them was a slim, red cheeked young feller abouttwenty-three years old. He wore top boots and spurs and a broad brimmedblack hat and gloves and a fur waistcoat and purty linen. He looked atthe tires of the wagon and said: 'That's the one we've followed. '

"'Which o' you is Samson Traylor?' he asked. 

"'I am, ' said Traylor. 

"The young feller jumped off his horse and tied him to the fence. Then hewent up to Traylor and said:

"What did you do with my niggers, you dirty sucker?'

"Men from Missouri hated the Illinois folks them clays and called 'emSuckers. We always call a Missouri man a name too dirty to be put in aletter. He acted like one o' the Roman emperors ye read of. 

"'Hain't you a little reckless, young feller?' Traylor says, as coolas a cucumber. 

"I didn't know Traylor them days. If I had, I'd 'a' been prepared forwhat was comin'. 

"Traylor stood up nigh the barn door, which Brimstead had closed after webacked the wagon out. 

"The young feller stepped close to the New Salem man and raised his whipfor a blow. Quick as lightnin' Traylor grabbed him and threw him ag'in'the barn door, keewhack! He hit so hard the boards bent and the wholebarn roared and trembled. The other feller tried to get his pistol out ofits holster, but Brimstead, who stood beside him, grabbed it, and I gothis hoss by the bits and, we both held on. The young feller lay on theground shakin' as if he had the ague. Ye never see a man so spylt in asecond. Traylor picked him up. His right arm was broke and his face andshoulder bruised some. Ye'd a thought a steam engyne had blowed up whilehe was puttin' wood in it. He was kind o' limp and the mad had leaked outo' him. 

"'I reckon I better find a doctor, ' he says. 

"'You get into my wagon and I'll take ye to a good one, ' says Traylor. 

"Just then Stephen Nuckles, the circuit minister, rode in with the bigbloodhound that follers him around. 

"The other slaver had got off his hoss in the scrimmage. Traylor startedfor him. The slaver began to back away and suddenly broke into a run. Thebig dog took after him with a kind of a lion roar. We all began yellingat the dog. We made more noise than you'd hear at the end of a hoss race. It scairt the young feller. He put on more steam and went up the ladderto the roof of the woodshed like a chased weasel. The dog stood barkin'as if he had treed a bear. Traylor grabbed the ladder and pulled it down. 

"'You stay there till I get away an' you'll be safe, ' said he. 

"The man looked down and swore and shook his fist and threatened us withthe law. 

"Mr. Nuckles rode close to the woodshed and looked up at him. 

"'My brother, I fear you be not a Christian, ' he said. 

"He swore at the minister. That settled him. 

"'What's all this erbout?' Mr. Nuckles asked me. 

"'He and his friend are from Missouri, ' I says. 'They're lookin' for somerunaway slaves an' they come here and pitched into us, and one gotthrowed ag'in' the barn an' the other clum to the roof. '

"'I reckon he better stay thar till he gits a little o' God's grace inhis soul, ' says the minister. 

"Then he says to the dog: 'Ponto, you keep 'im right thar. '

"The dog appeared to understand what was expected of him. 

"The minister got off his hoss and hitched him and took off his coat andput it on the ground. 

"'What you goin' to do?' I says. 

"'Me?' says the minister. 'I be goin' to rassle with Satan for the soulo' that 'ar man, an' if you keep watch I reckon you'll see 'at theground'll be scratched up some 'fore I git through. '

"He loosened his collar an' knelt on his coat and began to pray that theman's soul would see its wickedness and repent. You could have heard himhalf a mile away. 

"Mr. Traylor drove off with the damaged slaver settin' beside him and thesaddle hoss hitched to the rear axle. I see my chance an' before thatprayer ended I had got the fugitives under some hay in my wagon andstarted off with them on my way to Livingston County. I could hear theprayin' until I got over the hill into Canaan barrens. At sundown I leftthem in good hands thirty miles up the road. "

 * * * * *

In a frontier newspaper of that time it is recorded that the minister andhis dog kept the slaver on the roof all day, vainly trying with prayerand exhortation to convert his soul. The man stopped swearing beforedinner and on his promise not again to violate the commandment a goodmeal was handed up to him. He was liberated at sundown and spent thenight with Brimstead. 

"Who is that big sucker who grabbed my friend?" the stranger askedBrimstead. 

"His name is Samson Traylor. Comes from Vermont, " was the answer. 

"He's the dog-gonedest steam engyne of a man I ever see, 'pon my word, "said the stranger. 

"An' he's about the gentlest, womern hearted critter that ever drawed thebreath o' life, " said Brimstead. 

"If he don't look out 'Liph Biggs'll kill him--certain. "

Samson spoke not more than a dozen words on his way back to New Salem. Amazed and a little shocked by his own conduct, he sat thinking. Afterall he had heard and seen, the threat of the young upstart had provokedhim beyond his power of endurance. Trained to the love of liberty andjustice, the sensitive mind of the New Englander had been hurt by thestory of the fugitives. Upon this hurt the young man had poured theturpentine of haughty, imperial manners. In all the strange adventure itseemed to him that he had felt the urge of God--in the letter of Lovejoy, in the prayers of the negro woman and the minister, in his own wrath. Themore he thought of it the less inclined he was to reproach himself forhis violence. Slavery was a relic of ancient imperialism. It had no rightin free America. There could be no peace with it save for a little time. He would write to his friends of what he had learned of the brutalitiesof slavery. The Missourians would tell their friends of the lawless andviolent men of the North, who cared not a fig for the property rights ofa southerner. The stories would travel like fire in dry grass. 

So, swiftly, the thoughts of men were being prepared for the great battlelines of the future. Samson saw the peril of it. 

As they rode along young Mr. Biggs took a flask half full of whisky fromhis pocket and offered it to Samson. The latter refused this tender ofcourtesy and the young man drank alone. He complained of pain and Samsonmade a sling of his muffler and put it over the neck and arm of theinjured Biggs and drove with care to avoid jolting. For the first timeSamson took a careful and sympathetic look at him. He was a handsomeyouth, about six feet tall, with dark eyes and hair and a small blackmustache and teeth very white and even. 

In New Salem Samson took him to Dr. Allen's office and helped the doctorin setting the broken bone. Then he went to Offut's store and found Abereading his law book and gave him an account of his adventure. 

"I'm both glad and sorry, " said Abe. "I'm glad that you licked the slaverand got the negroes out of his reach. I reckon I'd have done the same ifI could. I'm sorry because it looks to me like the beginning of manytroubles. The whole subject of slavery is full of danger. Naturallysouthern men will fight for their property, and there is a growing numberin the North who will fight for their principles. If we all get tofighting, I wonder what will become of the country. It reminds me of theman who found a skunk in his house. His boy was going after the critterwith a club. 

"'Look here, boy, ' he said, 'when you've got a skunk in the house, it'sa good time to be careful. You might spyle the skunk with that club, butthe skunk would be right certain to spyle the house. While he's ourguest, I reckon we'll have to be polite, whether we want to or not. '"

"Looks to me as if that skunk had come to stay until he's put out, " saidSamson. 

"That may be, " Abe answered. "But I keep hopin' that we can swap a henfor the house and get rid of him. Anyhow, it's a good time to becareful. "

"He may be glad to live with me, but I ain't willin' to live with him, "Samson rejoined. "I ain't awful proud, but his station in life is aleetle too far below mine. If I tried to live with him, I would get thesmell on my soul so that St. Peter would wonder what to do with me. "

Abe laughed. 

"That touches the core of the trouble, " said he. "In the North most menhave begun to think of the effect of slavery on the soul; in the South avast majority are thinking of its effect on the pocket. One stands for amoral and the other for a legal right. "

"But one is righter than the other, " Samson insisted. 

That evening Samson set down the events of the day in his book and quotedthe dialogue in Offut's store in which he had had a part. On the first ofFebruary, 1840, he put these words under the entry:

"I wouldn't wonder if this was the first trip on the UndergroundRailroad. "

CHAPTER VII

IN WHICH MR. ELIPHALET BIGGS GETS ACQUAINTED WITH BIM KELSO AND HERFATHER. 

In a musty old ledger kept by James Rutledge, the owner of Rutledge'sTavern, in the year 1832, is an entry under the date of January 31stwhich reads as follows:

"Arrived this day Eliphalet Biggs of 26 Olive Street, St. Louis, with onehorse. "

Young Mr. Biggs remained at Rutledge's Tavern for three weeks with hisarm in a sling under the eye of the good doctor. The Rutledges wereKentucky folk and there the young man had found a sympathetic hearing andtender care. Dr. Allen had forbidden him the use of ardent spirits whilethe bone was knitting and so these three weeks were a high point in hislife so to speak. 

It had done him good to be hurled against a barn door and to falltrembling and confused at the feet of his master. He had never met hismaster until he had reached Hopedale that morning. The event had been toolong delayed. Encouraged by idleness and conceit and alcohol, evilpassions had grown rank in the soil of his spirit. Restraint had been athing unknown to him. He had ruled the little world in which he had livedby a sense of divine right. He was a prince of Egoland--that province ofAmerica which had only half yielded itself to the principles ofDemocracy. 

Sobriety and the barn door had been a help to his soul. More of theseheroic remedies might have saved him. He was like one exiled, for a term, from his native heath. After the ancient fashion of princes, he had atfirst meditated the assassination of the man who had blocked his way. Deprived of the heat of alcohol, his purpose sickened and died. 

It must be said that he served his term as a sober human being quitegracefully, being a well born youth of some education. A few days hespent mostly in bed, while his friend, who had come on from Hopedale, took care of him. Soon he began to walk about and his friend returned toSt. Louis. 

His fine manners and handsome form and face captured the little village, most of whose inhabitants had come from Kentucky. They knew a gentlemanwhen they saw him. They felt a touch of awe in his presence. Mr. Biggsclaimed to have got his hurt by a fall from his horse, pride leading himto clothe the facts in prevarication. If the truth had been known Samsonwould have suffered a heavy loss of popularity in New Salem. 

A week after his arrival Ann Rutledge walked over to Jack Kelso's withhim. Bim fled up the stick ladder as soon as they entered the door. Mr. Kelso was away on a fox hunt. Ann went to the ladder and called:

"Bim, I saw you fly up that ladder. Come back down. Here's a right niceyoung man come to see you. "

"Is he good-looking?" Bim called. 

"Oh, purty as a picture, black eyes and hair and teeth like pearls, andtall and straight, and he's got a be-e-autiful little mustache. "

"That's enough!" Bim exclaimed. "I just wish there was a knot hole inthis floor. "

"Come on down here, " Ann urged. 

"I'm scared, " was the answer. 

"His cheeks are as red as roses and he's got a lovely ring and big watchchain--pure gold and yaller as a dandelion. You come down here. "

"Stop, " Bim answered. "I'll be down as soon as I can get on my best biband tucker. "

She was singing _Sweet Nightingale_ as she began "to fix up, " while Annand Mr. Biggs were talking with Mrs. Kelso. 

"Ann, " Bim called in a moment, "had I better put on my red dress or myblue?"

"Yer blue, and be quick about it. "

"Don't you let him get away after all this trouble. "

"I won't. "

In a few minutes Bim called from the top of the ladder to Ann. The latterwent and looked up at her. Both girls burst into peals of merry laughter. Bim had put on a suit of her father's old clothes and her buffalo skinwhiskers and was a wild sight. 

"Don't you come down looking like that, " said Ann. "I'll go up there and'tend to you. "

Ann climbed the ladder and for a time there was much laughing andchattering in the little loft. By and by Ann came down. Bim hesitated, laughing, above the ladder for a moment, and presently followed in herbest blue dress, against which the golden curls of her hair fellgracefully. With red cheeks and bright eyes, she was a glowing picture. Very timidly she gave her hand to Mr. Biggs. 

"It's just the right dress, " he said. "It goes so well with your hair. I'm glad to see you. I have never seen a girl like you in my life. "

"If I knew how, I'd look different, " said Bim. "I reckon I look cross. Cows have done it. Do you like cows?"

"I hate cows--I've got a thousand cows and I see as little of them aspossible, " said he. 

"It is such a pleasure to hate cows!" Bim exclaimed. "There's nothing Ienjoy so much. "

"Why?" Ann asked. 

"I am not sure, but I think it is because they give milk--such quantitiesof milk! Sometimes I lie awake at night hating cows. There are so manycows here it keeps me busy. "

"Bim has to milk a cow--that's the reason, " said Ann. 

"I'd like to come over and see her do it, " said Mr. Biggs. 

"If you do I'll milk in your face--honest I will, " said Bim. 

"I wouldn't care if it rained milk. I'm going to come and see you often, if your mother will let me. "

A blush spread over the girl's cheeks to the pretty dimple at the pointof her chin. 

"You'll see her scampering up the ladder like a squirrel, " said Mrs. Kelso. "She isn't real tame yet. "

"Perhaps we could hide the ladder, " he suggested, with a smile. 

"Do you play on the flute?" Bim asked. 

"No, " said Mr. Biggs. 

"I was afraid, " Bim exclaimed. "My Uncle Henry does. " She looked into Mr. Biggs' eyes. 

"You like fun--don't you?" he said. 

"Have you got a snare drum?" Bim queried. 

"No. What put that into your head?" Mr. Biggs asked, a little mystified. 

"I don't know. I thought I'd ask. My Uncle Henry has a snare drum. That'sone reason we came to Illinois. "

Mr. Biggs laughed. "That smile of yours is very becoming, " he said. 

"Did you ever dream of a long legged, brindle cat with yellow eyes anda blue tail?" she asked, as if to change the subject. 

"Never!"

"I wisht you had. Maybe you'd know how to scare it away. It carries onso. "

"I know what would fix that cat, " said Mrs. Kelso. "Give him the hotbiscuits which you sometimes eat for supper. He'll never come again. "

At this point Mr. Kelso returned with his gun on his shoulder and wasintroduced to Mr. Biggs. 

"I welcome you to the hazards of my fireside, " said Kelso. "So you'refrom St. Louis and stopped for repairs in this land of the ladderclimbers. Sit down and I'll put a log on the fire. "

"Thank you, I must go, " said Biggs. "The doctor will be looking for menow. "

"Can I not stay you with flagons?" Kelso asked. 

"The doctor has forbidden me all drink but milk and water. "

"A wise man is Dr. Allen!" Kelso exclaimed. "Cervantes was right insaying that too much wine will neither keep a secret nor fulfill apromise. "

"Will you make me a promise?" Bim asked of Mr. Biggs, as he was leavingthe door with Ann. 

"Anything you will ask, " he answered. 

"Please don't ever look at the new moon through a knot hole, " she said ina half whisper. 

The young man laughed. "Why not?"

"If you do, you'll never get married. "

"I mustn't look at the new moon through a knot hole and I must beware ofthe flute and the snare drum, " said Mr. Biggs. 

"Don't be alarmed by my daughter's fancies, " Kelso advised. "They areoften rather astonishing. She has a hearty prejudice against the flute. It is well founded. An ill played flute is one of the worst enemies oflaw and order. Goldsmith estranged half his friends with a grimdetermination to play the flute. It was the skeleton in his closet. "

So Mr. Eliphalet Biggs met the pretty daughter of Jack Kelso. On hisway back to the tavern he told Ann that he had fallen in love with thesweetest and prettiest girl in all the world--Bim Kelso. That veryevening Ann went over to Kelso's cabin to take the news to Bim and hermother and to tell them that her father reckoned he belonged to a veryrich and a very grand family. Naturally, they felt a sense of elation, although Mrs. Kelso, being a woman of shrewdness, was not carried away. Mr. Kelso had gone to Offut's store and the three had the cabin tothemselves. 

"I think he's just a wonderful man!" Bim exclaimed. "But I'm sorry hisname is so much like figs and pigs. I'm plum sure I'm going to love him. "

"I thought you were in love with Harry Needles, " Bim's mother said toher. 

"I am. But he keeps me so busy. I have to dress him up every day and puta mustache on him and think up ever so many nice things for him to say, and when he comes he doesn't say them. He's terribly young. "

"The same age as you. I think he is a splendid boy--so does everybody. "

"I have to make all his courage for him, and then he never will use it, "Bim went on. "He has never said whether he likes my looks or not. "

"But there's time enough for that--you are only a child, " said hermother. "You told me that he said once you were beautiful. "

"But he has never said it twice, and when he did say it, I didn't believemy ears, he spoke so low. Acted kind o' like he was scared of it. I don'twant to wait forever to be really and truly loved, do I?"

Mrs. Kelso laughed. "It's funny to hear a baby talking like that, " shesaid. "We don't know this young man. He's probably only fooling anyway. "

Bim rose and stood very erect. 

"Mother, do you think I look like a baby?" she asked. "I tell you I'mevery inch a woman, " she added, mimicking her father in the speech ofLear. 

"But there are not many inches in you yet. "

"How discouraging you are!" said Bim, sinking into her chair with a sigh. 

Bim went often to the little tavern after that. Of those meetings littleis known, save that, with all the pretty arts of the cavalier, unknown toHarry Needles, the handsome youth flattered and delighted the girl. Thiswent on day by day for a fortnight. The evening before Biggs was to leavefor his home, Bim went over to eat supper with Ann at the tavern. 

It happened that Jack Kelso had found Abe sitting alone with hisBlackstone in Offut's store that afternoon. 

"Mr. Kelso, did you ever hear what Eb Zane said about the general subjectof sons-in-law?" Abe asked. 

"Never--but I reckon it would be wise and possibly apropos, " said Kelso. 

"He said that a son-in-law was a curious kind o' property, " Abe began. "'Ye know, ' says Eb, 'if ye have a hoss that's tricky an' dangerous an'wuth less than nothin', ye can give him away er kill him, but if ye havea son-in-law that's wuthless, nobody else will have him an' it's ag'in'the law to kill him. Fust ye know ye've got a critter on yer hands thatkicks an' won't work an' has to be fed an' liquored three times a day an'is wuth a million dollars less than nothin'. '"

There was a moment of silence. 

"When a man is figurin' his assets, it's better to add ten dollars thanto subtract a million, " said Abe. "That's about as simple as adding upthe weight o' three small hogs. "

"What a well of wisdom you are, Abe!" said Kelso. "Do you know anythingabout this young Missourian who is shining up to Bim?"

"I only know that he was a drinking man up to the time he landed here andthat he threatened Traylor with his whip and got thrown against the sideof a barn--plenty hard. He's a kind of American king, and I don't likekings. They're nice to look at, but generally those that have married 'emhave had one h--l of a time. "

Kelso rose and went home to supper. 

Soon after the supper dishes had been laid away in the Kelso cabin, youngMr. Biggs rapped on its door and pulled the latch-string and entered andsat down with Mr. And Mrs. Kelso at the fireside. 

"I have come to ask for your daughter's hand, " he said, as soon as theywere seated. "I know it will seem sudden, but she happens to be the girlI want. I've had her picture in my heart always. I love your daughter. Ican give her a handsome home and everything she could desire. "

Kelso answered promptly: "We are glad to welcome you here, but we can notentertain such a proposal, flattering as it is. Our daughter is too youngto think of marriage. Then, sir, we know very little about you, and may Ibe pardoned if I add that it does not recommend you?"

The young man was surprised. He had not expected such talk from a ladderclimber. He looked at Kelso, groping for an answer. Then--

"Perhaps not, " said he. "I have been a little wild, but that is all inthe past. You can learn about me and my family from any one in St. Louis. I am not ashamed of anything I have done. "

"Nevertheless, I must ask you to back away from this subject. I can noteven discuss it with you. "

"May I not hope that you will change your mind?"

"Not at present. Let the future take care of itself. "

"I generally get what I want, " said the young man. 

"And now and then something that you don't want, " said Kelso, a bitnettled by his persistence. 

"You ought to think of her happiness. She is too sweet and beautiful fora home like this. "

There was an awkward moment of silence. The young man said good night andopened the door. 

"I'll go with you, " said Kelso. 

He went with Mr. Biggs to the tavern and got his daughter and returnedhome with her. 

Mrs. Kelso chided her husband for being hard on Mr. Biggs. 

"He has had his lesson, perhaps he will turn over a new leaf, " she said. 

"I fear there isn't a new leaf in his book, " said Kelso. "They're alldirty. "

He told his wife what Abe had said in the store. 

"The wisdom of the common folk is in that beardless young giant, " hesaid. "It is the wisdom of many generations gathered in the hard schoolof bitter experience. I wonder where it is going to lead him. "

As Eliphalet Biggs was going down the south road next morning he met Bimon her pony near the schoolhouse, returning from the field with her cow. They stopped. 

"I'm coming back, little girl, " he said. 

"What for?" she asked. 

"To tell you a secret and ask you a question. Nobody but you has theright to say I can not. May I come?"

"I suppose you can--if you want to, " she answered. 

"I'll come and I'll write to you and send the letters to Ann. "

Mentor Graham, who lived in the schoolhouse, had come out of its door. 

"Good-by!" said young Mr. Biggs, as his heels touched the flanks of hishorse. Then he went flying down the road. 

CHAPTER VIII

WHEREIN ABE MAKES SUNDRY WISE REMARKS TO THE BOY HARRY AND ANNOUNCES HISPURPOSE TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR THE LEGISLATURE AT KELSO'S DINNER PARTY. 

Harry Needles met Bim Kelso on the road next day, when he was going downto see if there was any mail. She was on her pony. He was in his new suitof clothes--a butternut background striped into large checks. 

"You look like a walking checkerboard, " said she, stopping her pony. 

"This--this is my new suit, " Harry answered, looking down at it. 

"It's a tiresome suit, " said she impaciently. "I've been playing checkerson it since I caught sight o' you, and I've got a man crowned in the kingrow. "

"I thought you'd like it, " he answered, quite seriously, and with a lookof disappointment. "Say, I've got that razor and I've shaved three timesalready. "

He took the razor from his pocket and drew it from its case and proudlyheld it up before her. 

"Don't tell anybody, " he warned her. "They'd laugh at me. They wouldn'tknow how I feel. "

"I won't say anything, " she answered. "I reckon I ought to tell you thatI don't love you--not so much as I did anyway--not near so much. I onlylove you just a wee little bit now. "

It is curious that she should have said just that. Her former confessionhad only been conveyed by the look in her eyes at sundry times and byunpremeditated acts in the hour of his peril. 

Harry's face fell. 

"Do you--love--some other man?" he asked. 

"Yes--a regular man--mustache, six feet tall and everything. I just tellyou he's purty!"

"Is it that rich feller from St. Louis?" he asked. 

She nodded and then whispered: "Don't you tell. "

The boy's lips trembled when he answered. "I won't tell. But I don't seehow you can do it. "

"Why?"

"He drinks and he keeps slaves and beats them with a bull whip. He isn'trespectable. "

"That's a lie, " she answered quickly. "I don't care what you say. "

Bim touched her pony with the whip and rode away. 

Harry staggered for a moment as he went on. His eyes filled with tears. It seemed to him that the world had been ruined. On his way to thevillage he tried and convicted it of being no fit place for a boy to livein. Down by the tavern he met Abe, who stopped him. 

"Howdy, Harry!" said Abe. "You look kind o' sick. Come into the store andsit down. I want to talk to you. "

Harry followed the big man into Offut's store, flattered by hisattention. There had been something very grateful in the sound of Abe'svoice and the feel of his hand. The store was empty. 

"You and I mustn't let ourselves be worried by little matters, " said Abe, as they sat down together by the fire. "Things that seem to you to be asbig as a mountain now will look like a mole hill in six months. You and Ihave got things to do, partner. We mustn't let ourselves be fooled. I wasonce in a boat with old Cap'n Chase on the Illinois River. We had gotinto the rapids. It was a narrow channel in dangerous water. They had tokeep her headed just so or we'd have gone on the rocks. Suddenly a boydropped his apple overboard and began to holler. He wanted to have theboat stopped. For a minute that boy thought his apple was the biggestthing in the world. We're all a good deal like him. We keep dropping ourapples and calling for the boat to stop. Soon we find out that there aremany apples in the world as good as that one. You have all come to astretch of bad water up at your house. The folks have been sick. They'rea little lonesome and discouraged. Don't you make it any harder by cryingover a lost apple. Ye know it's possible that the apple will float alongdown into the still water where you can pick it up by and by. Theimportant thing is to keep going ahead. "

This bit of fatherly counsel was a help to the boy. 

"I've got a book here that I want you to read, " Abe went on. "It is the_Life of Henry Clay_. Take it home and read it carefully and then bringit back and tell me what you think of it. You may be a Henry Clayyourself by and by. The world has something big in it for every one if hecan only find it. We're all searching--some for gold and some for fame. Ipray God every day that He will help me to find my work--the thing I cando better than anything else--and when it is found help me to do it. Iexpect it will be a hard and dangerous search and that I shall makemistakes. I expect to drop some apples on my way. They'll look like goldto me, but I'm not going to lose sight of the main purpose. "

When Harry got home he found Sarah sewing by the fireside, with Joe andBetsey playing by the bed. Samson had gone to the woods to split rails. 

"Any mail?" Sarah asked. 

"No mail, " he answered. 

Sarah went to the window and stood for some minutes looking out at theplain. Its sere grasses, protruding out of the snow, hissed and bent inthe wind. In its cheerless winter colors it was a dreary thing to see. 

"How I long for home!" she exclaimed, as she resumed her sewing by thefire. 

Little Joe came and stood by her knee and gave her his oft repeatedblessing:

"God help us and make His face to shine upon us. "

She kissed him and said: "Dear comforter! It shines upon me every timeI hear you say those words. "

The little lad had observed the effect of the blessing on his mother inher moments of depression and many times his parroting had been the wordin season. Now he returned to his play again, satisfied. 

"Would you mind if I called you mother?" Harry asked. 

"I shall be glad to have you do it if it gives you any comfort, Harry, "she answered. 

She observed that there were tears in his eyes. 

"We are all very fond of you, " she said, as she bent to her task. 

Then the boy told her the history of his morning--the talk with Bim, withthe razor omitted from it; how he had met Abe and all that Abe had saidto him as they sat together in the store. 

"Well, Harry, if she's such a fool, you're lucky to have found it out sosoon, " said Sarah. "She does little but ride the pony and play aroundwith a gun. I don't believe she ever spun a hank o' yarn in her life. She'll get her teeth cut by and by. Abe is right We're always droppingour apples and feeling very bad about it, until we find out that thereare lots of apples just as good. I'm that way myself. I guess I've madeit harder for Samson crying over lost apples. I'm going to try to stopit. "

Then fell a moment of silence. Soon she said:

"There's a bitter wind blowing and there's no great hurry about therails, I guess. You sit here by the fire and read your book thisforenoon. Maybe it will help you to find your work. "

So it happened that the events of Harry's morning found their place inthe diary which Sarah and Samson kept. Long afterward Harry added thesentences about the razor. 

That evening Harry read aloud from the _Life of Henry Clay_, while Sarahand Samson sat listening by the fireside. It was the first of manyevenings which they spent in a like fashion that winter. When the bookwas finished they read, on Abe's recommendation, Weem's _Life ofWashington_. 

Every other Sunday they went down to the schoolhouse to hear John Cameronpreach. He was a working man, noted for good common sense, who talkedsimply and often effectively of the temptations of the frontier, notablythose of drinking, gaming and swearing. One evening they went to a debatein the tavern on the issues of the day, in which Abe won the praise ofall for an able presentation of the claim of Internal Improvements. During that evening Alexander Ferguson declared that he would not cut hishair until Henry Clay became president, the news of which resolution ledto a like insanity in others and an age of unexampled hairiness on thatpart of the border. 

For Samson and Sarah the most notable social event of the winter was achicken dinner at which they and Mr. And Mrs. James Rutledge and Ann andAbe Lincoln and Dr. Allen were the guests of the Kelsos. That night Harrystayed at home with the children. 

Kelso was in his best mood. 

"Come, " he said, when dinner was ready. "Life is more than friendship. Itis partly meat. "

"And mostly Kelso, " said Dr. Allen. 

"Ah, Doctor! Long life has made you as smooth as an old shilling andnimbler than a sixpence, " Kelso declared. "And, speaking of life, Aristotle said that the learned and the unlearned were as the living andthe dead. "

"It is true, " Abe interposed. "I say it, in spite of the fact that itslays me. "

"You? No! You are alive to your finger tips, " Kelso answered. 

"But I have mastered only eight books, " said Abe. 

"And one--the book of common sense, and that has wised you, " Kelsowent on. "Since I came to this country I have learned to beware of theone-book man. There are more living men in America than in any land Ihave seen. The man who reads one good book thoughtfully is alive andoften my master in wit or wisdom. Reading is the gate and thought isthe pathway of real life. "

"I think that most of the men I know have read the Bible, " said Abe. 

"A wonderful and a saving fact! It is a sure foundation to build yourlife upon. "

Kelso paused to pour whisky from a jug at his side for those who wouldtake it. 

"Let us drink to our friend Abe and his new ambition, " he proposed. 

"What is it?" Samson asked. 

"I am going to try for a seat in the Legislature, " said Abe. "I reckonit's rather bold. Old Samuel Legg was a good deal of a nuisance down inHardin County. He was always talking about going to Lexington, but neverwent. 

"'You'll never get thar without startin', ' said his neighbor. 

"'But I'm powerful skeered fer fear I'd never git back, ' said Samuel. 'There's a big passel o' folks that gits killed in the city. '

"'You always was a selfish cuss. You ought to think o' yer neighbors, 'said the other man. 

"So I've concluded that if I don't start I'll never get there, and ifI die on the way it will be a good thing for my neighbors, " Abe added. 

The toast was drunk, and by some in water, after which Abe said:

"If you have the patience to listen to it, I'd like to read mydeclaration to the voters of Sangamon County. "

Samson's diary briefly describes this appeal as follows:

 * * * * *

"He said that he wanted to win the confidence and esteem of his fellowcitizens. This he hoped to accomplish by doing something which would makehim worthy of it. He had been thinking of the county. A railroad would domore for it than anything else, but a railroad would be too costly. Theimprovement of the Sangamon River was the next best thing. Its channelcould be straightened and cleared of driftwood and made navigable forsmall vessels under thirty tons' burden. He favored a usury law and said, in view of the talk he had just heard, he was going to favor theimprovement and building of schools, so that every one could learn how toread, at least, and learn for himself what is in the Bible and othergreat books. It was a modest statement and we all liked it. "

 * * * * *

"Whatever happens to the Sangamon, one statement in that platformcouldn't be improved, " said Kelso. 

"What is that?" Abe asked. 

"It's the one that says you wish to win the regard of your fellows byserving them. "

"It's a lot better than saying that he wishes to serve Abe, " said Dr. Allen, a remark which referred to a former conversation with Abe, inwhich Kelso had had a part. 

"You can trust Abe to take the right turn at every fork in the road, "Kelso went on. "If you stick to that, my boy, and continue to study, you'll get there and away beyond any goal you may now see. A passionfor service is more than half the battle. Since the other night at thetavern I've been thinking about Abe and the life we live here. I'veconcluded that we're all very lucky, if we are a bit lonesome. "

"I'd like to know about that, " said Sarah. "I'm a little in need ofencouragement. "

"Well, you may have observed that Abe has a good memory, " he continued. "While I try to be modest about it, my own memory is a fairly faithfulservant. It is due to the fact that since I left the university I havelived, mostly, in lonely places. It is a great thing to be where theregister of your mind is not overburdened by the flow of facts. Abe'scandidacy is the only thing that has happened here since Samson'sraising, except the arrival and departure of Eliphalet Biggs. Ourmemories are not weakened by overwork. They have time for bigundertakings--like Burns and Shakespeare and Blackstone. "

"I've noticed that facts get kind o' slippery when they come in a bunch, as they did on our journey, " said Samson. "Seems so they wore each othersmooth and got hard to hold. "

"Ransom Prigg used to say it was easy enough to ketch eels, but it waspowerful hard to hold 'em, " Abe remarked. "He caught three eels in a trapone day and the trap busted and let 'em loose in the boat. He keptgrabbin' and tusslin' around the boat till the last eel got away. 'Inever had such a slippery time in all the days o' my life, ' said Rans. 'One eel is a dinner, but three eels is jest a lot o' slippin' an'disapp'intment. '"

"That's exactly the point I make, " said Kelso. "A man with too many eelsin the boat will have none for dinner. The city man is at a greatdisadvantage. Events slip away from him and leave nothing. His intellectgets the habit of letting go. It loses its power to seize and hold. Hisimpressions are like footprints on a beach. They are washed away by thenext tide. "

There was much talk at the fireside after dinner, all of which doubtlesshad an effect on the fortunes of the good people who sat around it, andthe historian must sort the straws, and with some regret, for biggerthings are drawing near in the current. Samson and Sarah had been tellingof their adventures on the long road. 

"We are all movers, " said Kelso. "We can not stay where we are for asingle day--not if we are alive. Most of us never reach that eminencefrom which we discover the littleness of ourselves and our troubles andachievements and the immensities of power and wisdom by which we aresurrounded. "

At least one of that company was to remember the words in days ofadversity and triumph. Soon after that dinner the memories of the littlecommunity began to register an unusual procession of thrilling facts. 

Early in April an Indian scare spread from the capital to the remotestcorners of the state. Black Hawk, with many warriors, had crossed theMississippi and was moving toward the Rock River country. GovernorReynolds called for volunteers to check the invasion. 

Abe, whose address to the voters had been printed in the _SangamonJournal_, joined a volunteer company and soon became its captain. On thetenth of April he and Harry Needles left for Richland to go intotraining. Samson was eager to go, but could not leave his family. 

Bim Kelso rode out into the fields where Harry was at work the day beforehe went away. 

"This is a great surprise, " said Harry. "I don't see you any more exceptat a distance. "

"I don't see you either. "

"I didn't think you wanted to see me. "

"You're easily discouraged, " she said, looking down with a serious face. 

"You made me feel as if I didn't want to live any longer. "

"I reckon I'm mean. I made myself feel a million times worse. It's awfulto be such a human as I am. Some days I'm plum scared o' myself. "

"I'm going away, " the boy said, in a rather mournful tone. 

"I hate to have you go. I just love to know you're here, if I don't seeyou. Only I wish you was older and knew more. "

"Maybe I know more'n you think I do, " he answered. 

"But you don't know anything about my troubles, " said she, with a sigh. 

"I don't get the chance. "

There was half a moment of silence. She ended it by saying:

"Ann and I are going to the spelling school to-night. "

"Can I go with you?"

"Could you stand it to be talked to and scolded by a couple of girls tillyou didn't care what happened to you?"

"Yes; I've got to be awful careless. "

"We'll be all dressed up and ready at quarter of eight. Come to thetavern. I'm going to have supper with Ann. She is just terribly happy. John McNeil has told her that he loves her. It's a secret. Don't youtell. "

"I won't. Does she love him?"

"Devotedly; but she wouldn't let him know it--not yet. "

"No?"

"Course not. She pretends she's in love with somebody else. It's the bestway. I reckon he'll be plum anxious before she owns up. But she trulyloves him. She'd die for him. "

"Girls are awful curious--nobody can tell what they mean, " said Harry. 

"Sometimes they don't know what they mean themselves. Often I saysomething or do something and wonder and wonder what it means. "

She was looking off at the distant plain as she spoke. 

"Sometimes I'm surprised to find out how much it means, " she added. "Ireckon every girl is a kind of a puzzle and some are very easy and somewould give ye the headache. "

"Or the heartache. "

"Did you ever ride a horse sitting backwards--whenyou're going one way and looking another andyou don't know what's coming?" she asked. 

"What's behind you is before you and the faster you go the more dangeryou're in?" Harry laughed. 

"Isn't that the way we have to travel in this world whether we're goingto love or to mill?" the girl asked, with a sigh. "We can not tell whatis ahead. We see only what is behind us. It is very sad. "

Barry looked at Bim. He saw the tragic truth of the words and suddenlyher face was like them. Unconsciously in the midst of her playful talkthis thing had fallen. He did not know quite what to make of it. 

"I feel sad when I think of Abe, " said Harry. "He don't know what isahead of him, I guess. I heard Mrs. Traylor say that he was in love withAnn. "

"I reckon he is, but he don't know how to show it. You might as well askme to play on a flute. He's never told her. He just walks beside her to aparty and talks about politics and poetry and tells funny stories. Ireckon he's mighty good, but he don't know how to love a girl. Ann isafraid he'll step on her, he's so tall and awkward and wanderin'. Did youever see an elephant talking with a cricket?"

"Not as I remember, " said Harry. 

"I never did myself, but if I did, I'm sure they'd both look very tired. It would be still harder for an elephant to be engaged to a cricket. Idon't reckon the elephant's love would fit the cricket or that they'dever be able to agree on what they'd talk about. It's some that way withAbe and Ann. She is small and spry; he is slow and high. She'd need aladder to get up to his face, and I just tell you it ain't purty when yeget there. She ain't got a chance to love him. "

"I love him, " said Harry. "I think he's a wonderful man. I'd fight forhim till I died. John McNeil is nothing but a grasshopper compared tohim. "

"That's about what my father says, " Bim answered. "I love Abe, too, andso does Ann, but it ain't the hope to die, marryin' love. It's like aman's love for a man or a woman's love for a woman. John McNeil ishandsome--he's just plum handsome, and smart, too. He's bought a big farmand is going into the grocery business. Mr. Rutledge says he'll be a richman. "

"I wouldn't wonder. Is he going to the spelling school?"

"No, he went off to Richland to-day with my father to join the company. They're going to fight the Injuns, too. "

Harry stood smoothing the new coat of Colonel with his hand, while Bimwas thinking how she would best express what was on her mind. She did nottry to say it, but there was something in the look of her eyes which theboy remembered. 

He was near telling her that he loved her, but he looked down at hismuddy boots and soiled overalls. They were like dirt thrown on a flame. How could one speak of a sweet and noble passion in such attire? Cleanclothes and white linen for that! The shell sounded for dinner. Bimstarted for the road at a gallop, waving her hand. He unhitched his teamand followed it slowly across the black furrows toward the barn. 

He did not go to the spelling school. Abe came at seven and said that heand Harry would have to walk to Springfield that night and get theirequipment and take the stage in the morning. Abe said if they startedright away they could get to the Globe tavern by midnight. In the hurryand excitement Harry forgot the spelling school. To Bim it was a tragicthing. Before he went to bed that night he wrote a letter to her. 

CHAPTER IX

IN WHICH BIM KELSO MAKES HISTORY, WHILE ABE AND HARRY AND OTHER GOODCITIZENS OF NEW SALEM ARE MAKING AN EFFORT TO THAT END IN THE INDIAN WAR. 

Many things came with the full tide of the springtime--innumerableflowers and voices, the flowers filled with glowing color, the voiceswith music and delight. Waves of song swept over the limitless meadows. They went on and on as if they traveled a shoreless sea in a steady wind. Bob-whites, meadow-larks, bobolinks, song sparrows, bluebirds, competedwith the crowing of the meadow cocks. This joyous tumult around theTraylor cabin sped the day and emphasized the silence of the night. 

In the midst of this springtime carnival there came also cheering newsfrom the old home in Vermont--a letter to Sarah from her brother, whichcontained the welcome promise that he was coming to visit them andexpected to be in Beardstown about the fourth of May. Samson drove acrosscountry to meet the steamer. He was at the landing when _The Star of theNorth_ arrived. He saw every passenger that came ashore, and EliphaletBiggs, leading his big bay mare, was one of them, but the expectedvisitor did not arrive. There would be no other steamer bringingpassengers from the East for a number of days. 

Samson went to a store and bought a new dress and sundry bits of fineryfor Sarah. He returned to New Salem with a heavy heart. He dreaded tomeet his faithful partner and bring her little but disappointment. Thewindows were lighted when he got back, long after midnight. Sarah stoodin the open door as he drove up. 

"Didn't come, " he said mournfully. 

Without a word, Sarah followed him to the barn, with the tin lantern inher hand. He gave her a hug as he got down from the wagon. He was littlegiven to like displays of emotion. 

"Don't feel bad, " he said. 

She tried bravely to put a good face on her disappointment, but, while hewas unharnessing and leading the weary horses into their stalls, it was awet face and a silent one. 

"Come, " he said, after he had thrown some hay into the mangers. "Let's gointo the house. I've got something for ye. "

"I've given them up--I don't believe we shall ever see them again, " saidSarah, as they were walking toward the door. "I think I know how the deadfeel who are so soon forgotten. "

"Ye can't blame 'em, " said Samson. "They've probably heard about theInjun scare and would expect to be massacreed if they came. "

Indeed the scare, now abating, had spread through the border settlementsand kept the people awake o' nights. Samson and other men, left in NewSalem, had met to consider plans for a stockade. 

"And then there's the fever an' ague, " Samson added. 

"Sometimes I feel sorry I told 'em about it because they'll think itworse than it is. But we've got to tell the truth if it kills us. "

"Yes: we've got to tell the truth, " Samson rejoined. "There'll be arailroad coming through here one of these days and then we can all getback and forth easy. If it comes it's going to make us rich. Abe says heexpects it within three or four years. "

Sarah had a hot supper ready for him. As he stood warming himself by thefire she put her arms around him and gave him a little hug. 

"You poor tired man!" she said. "How patient and how good you are!"

There was a kind of apology for this moment of weakness in her look andmanner. Her face seemed to say: "It's silly but I can't help it. "

"I've been happy all the time for I knew you was waiting for me, " Samsonremarked. "I feel rich every time I think of you and the children. Say, look here. "

He untied the bundle and put the dress and finery in her lap. 

"Well, I want to know!" she exclaimed, as she held it up to thecandlelight. "That must have cost a pretty penny. "

"I don't care what it cost--it ain't half good enough--not half, " saidSamson. 

As he sat down to his supper he said:

"I saw that miserable slaver, Biggs, get off the boat with his big baymare. There was a darky following him with another horse. "

"Good land!" said Sarah. "I hope he isn't coming here. Mrs. Onstot toldme to-day that Bim Kelso has been getting letters from him. "

"She's such an odd little critter and she's got a mind of herown--anybody could see that, " Samson reflected. "She ought to be lookedafter purty careful. Her parents are so taken up with shooting andfishing and books they kind o' forget the girl. I wish you'd go downthere to-morrow and see what's up. Jack is away you know. "

"I will, " said Sarah. 

It was nearly two o'clock when Samson, having fed and watered his horses, got into bed. Yet he was up before daylight, next morning, and singing ahymn of praise as he kindled the fire and filled the tea kettle andlighted his candle lantern and went out to do his chores while Sarah, partly reconciled to her new disappointment, dressed and began the workof another day. So they and Abe and Harry and others like them, eachunder the urge of his own ambition, spent their great strength in thebuilding and defense of the republic and grew prematurely old. Theirwork began and ended in darkness and often their days were doubled bythe burdens of the night. So in the reckoning of their time each yearwas more than one. 

Sarah went down to the village in the afternoon of the next day. WhenSamson came in from the fields to his supper she said:

"Mr. Biggs is stopping at the tavern. He brought a new silk dress andsome beautiful linen to Mrs. Kelso. He tells her that Bim has made a newman of him. Claims he has quit drinking and gone to work. He looks like alord--silver spurs and velvet riding coat and ruffled shirt and silkwaistcoat. A colored servant rode into the village with him on abeautiful brown horse, carrying big saddle-bags. Bim and her mother areterribly excited. He wants them to move to St. Louis and live on his bigplantation in a house next to his--rent free. "

Samson knew that Biggs was the type of man who weds Virtue for her dowry. 

"A man's judgment is needed there, " said he. "It's a pity Jack is gone. Biggs will take that girl away with him sure as shooting if we don't lookout. "

"Oh, I don't believe he'd do that, " said Sarah. "I hope he has turnedover a new leaf and become a gentleman. "

"We'll see, " said Samson. 

They saw and without much delay the background of his pretensions, forone day within the week he and Bim, the latter mounted on the beautifulbrown horse, rode away and did not return. Soon a letter came from Bim toher mother, mailed at Beardstown. It told of their marriage in that placeand said that they would be starting for St. Louis in a few hours on _TheStar of the North_. She begged the forgiveness of her parents anddeclared that she was very happy. 

"Too bad! Isn't it?" said Sarah when Mrs. Waddell, who had come out withher husband one evening to bring this news, had finished the story. 

"Yes, it kind o' spyles the place, " said Samson. "Bim was a wonderfulgirl--spite of all her foolishness--like the birds that sing among theflowers on the prairie--kind o'--yes, sir--she was. I'm afraid forJack Kelso-'fraid it'll bust his fiddle if it don't break his heart. Hiswife is alone now. We must ask her to come and stay with us. "

"The Allens have taken her in, " said Mrs. Waddell. 

"That's good, " said Sarah. "I'll go down there to-morrow and offer to doanything we can. "

When Mr. And Mrs. Waddell had gone Sarah said:

"I can't help thinking of poor Harry. He was terribly in love with her. "

"Well, he'll have to get over it--that's all, " said Samson. "He's youngand the wound will heal. "

It was well for Harry that he was out of the way of all this, and enteredupon adventures which absorbed his thought. As to what was passing withhim we have conclusive evidence in two letters, one from Colonel ZacharyTaylor in which he says:

"Harry Needles is also recommended for the most intrepid conduct as ascout and for securing information of great value. Compelled to abandonhis wounded horse he swam a river under fire and under the observation ofthree of our officers, through whose help he got back to his command, bringing a bullet in his thigh. "

With no knowledge of military service and a company of untrained men, Abehad no chance to win laurels in the campaign. His command did not get intouch with the enemy. He had his hands full maintaining a decent regardfor discipline among the raw frontiersmen of his company. 

He saved the life of an innocent old Indian, with a passport from GeneralCass, who had fallen into their hands and whom, in their excitement andlust for action, they desired to hang. This was the only incident of histerm of service which gave him the least satisfaction. 

Early in the campaign Harry had been sent with a message to headquarters, where he won the regard of Colonel Taylor and was ordered to the frontwith a company of scouts. No member of the command had been so daring. He had the recklessness of youth and its wayward indifferences to peril. William Boone, a son of Daniel, used to speak of "the luck of thatdaredevil farmer boy. "

One day in passing mounted through a thick woods on the river, near theenemy, he suddenly discovered Indians all around him. They sprang out ofthe bushes ahead and one of them opened fire. He turned and spurred hishorse and saw the painted warriors on every side. He rode through themunder a hot fire. His horse fell wounded near the river shore and Harrytook to the water and swam beneath it as far as he could. When he came upfor breath bullets began splashing and whizzing around him. It was thenthat he got his wound. He dove and reached the swift current whichgreatly aided his efforts. Some white men in a boat about three hundredyards away witnessed his escape and said that the bullets "tore theriver surface into rags" around him as he came up. Courage and his skillas a diver and swimmer saved his life. Far below, the boat, in which werea number of his fellow Scouts overtook him and helped him back to camp. So it happened that a boy won a reputation in the "Black Hawk War" whichwas not lavish in its bestowal of honors. 

When the dissatisfied volunteers were mustered out late in May, Kelso andMcNeil, being sick with a stubborn fever, were declared unfit for serviceand sent back to New Salem as soon as they were able to ride. Abe andHarry joined Captain Iles' Company of Independent Rangers and a month orso later Abe re-enlisted to serve with Captain Early, Harry being undera surgeon's care. The latter's wound was not serious and on July third hetoo joined Early's command. 

This company was chiefly occupied in the moving of supplies and theburying of a few men who had been killed in small engagements with theenemy. It was a band of rough-looking fellows in the costume of thefrontier farm and workshop--ragged, dirty and unshorn. The company wasdisbanded July tenth at Whitewater, Wisconsin, where, that night, thehorses of Harry and Abe were stolen. From that point they started ontheir long homeward tramp with a wounded sense of decency and justice. They felt that the Indians had been wronged: that the greed of landgrabbers had brutally violated their rights. This feeling had beendeepened by the massacre of the red women and children at Bad Ax. 

A number of mounted men went with them and gave them a ride now and then. Some of the travelers had little to eat on the journey. Both Abe andHarry suffered from hunger and sore feet before they reached Peoria wherethey bought a canoe and in the morning of a bright day started down theIllinois River. 

They had a long day of comfort in its current with a good store of breadand butter and cold meat and pie. The prospect of being fifty milesnearer home before nightfall lightened their hearts and they laughedfreely while Abe told of his adventures in the campaign. To him it wasall a wild comedy with tragic scenes dragged into it and woefully out ofplace. Indeed he thought it no more like war than a pig sticking and thatwas the kind of thing he hated. At noon they put ashore and sat on agrassy bank in the shade of a great oak, to escape the withering sunlightof that day late in July, while they ate their luncheon. 

"I reckon that the Black Hawk peril was largely manufactured, " said Abeas they sat in the cool shade. "If they had been let alone I don'tbelieve the Indians would have done any harm. It reminds me a little ofthe story of a rich man down in Lexington who put a cast iron buck in hisdooryard. Next morning all the dogs in the neighborhood got together andlooked him over from a distance. He had invaded their territory and theyreckoned that he was theirs. They saw a chance for war. One o' theirnumber volunteered to go and scare up the buck. So he raised the hair onhis back and sneaked up from behind and when he was about forty feet awaymade hell bent for the buck's heels. The buck didn't move and the dognearly broke his neck on that pair o' cast iron legs. He went limpingback to his comrades. 

"'What's the trouble?' they asked. 

"'It's nary buck, ' said the dog. 

"'What is it then?'

"'Darned if I know. It kicks like a mule an' smells like a gate post. '

"'Come on, you fellers. It looks to me like a good time to go home, ' saida wise old dog. 'I've learned that ye can't always believe yerself. '

"It's a good thing for a man or a government to learn, " Abe went on asthey resumed their journey. "I've learned not to believe everything Ihear, The first command I gave, one o' the company hollered 'Go to h--l. 'Every one before me laughed. It was a chance to get mad. I didn't for Iknew what it meant. I just looked sober and said: "'Well, boys, I haven'tfar to go and I reckon we'll all get there if we don't quit fooling an''tend to business. '

"They agreed with me. "

Harry had not heard from home since he left it. Abe had had a letter fromRutledge which gave him the news of Bim's elopement The letter had said:

"I was over to Beardstown the day Kelso and McNeil got off the steamer. I brought them home with me. Kelso was bigger than his trouble. Said thatthe ways of youth were a part of the great plan. 'Thorns! Thorns!' hesaid. 'They are the teachers of wisdom and who am I that I should thinkmyself or my daughter too good for the like since it is written thatJesus Christ did not complain of them. '"

"Have you heard from home?" Abe asked as they paddled on. 

"Not a word, " said Harry. 

"You're not expecting to meet Bim Kelso?"

"That's the best part of getting home for me, " said Harry, turning with asmile. 

"Let her drift for a minute, " said Abe. "I've got a letter from JamesRutledge that I want to read to you. There's a big lesson in it for bothof us--something to remember as long as we live. "

Abe read the letter. Harry sat motionless. Slowly his head bent forwarduntil his chin touched his breast. 

Abe said with a tender note in his voice as he folded the letter:

"This man is well along in life. He hasn't youth to help him as you have. See how he takes it and she's the only child he has. There are millionsof pretty girls in the world for you to choose from. "

"I know it but there's only one Bim Kelso in the world, " Harry answeredmournfully. "She was the one I loved. "

"Yes, but you'll find another. It looks serious but it isn't--you're soyoung. Hold up your head and keep going. You'll be happy again soon. "

"Maybe, but I don't see how, " said the boy. 

"There are lots of things you can't see from where you are at thispresent moment. There are a good many miles ahead o' you I reckon and onething you'll see plainly, by and by, that it's all for the best. I'vesuffered a lot myself but I can see now it has been a help to me. Thereisn't an hour of it I'd be willing to give up. "

They paddled along in silence for a time. 

"It was my fault, " said Harry presently. "I never could say the half Iwanted to when she was with me. My tongue is too slow. She gave me achance and I wasn't man enough to take it. That's all I've got to say onthat subject. "

He seemed to find it hard to keep his word for in a moment he added:

"I wouldn't have been so good a scout if it hadn't been for her. I guessthe Injuns would have got me but when I thought of her I just keptgoing. "

"I think you did it just because you were a brave man and had a duty toperform, " said Abe. 

Some time afterward in a letter to his father the boy wrote:

 * * * * *

"I often think of that ride down the river and the way he talked to me. It was so gentle. He was a big, powerful giant of a man who weighed overtwo hundred pounds, all of it bone and muscle. But under his greatstrength was a woman's gentleness; under the dirty, ragged clothes andthe rough, brown skin grimy with dust and perspiration, was one of thecleanest souls that ever came to this world. I don't mean that he waslike a minister. He could tell a story with pretty rough talk in it butalways for a purpose. He hated dirt on the hands or on the tongue. Ifanother man had a trouble Abe took hold of it with him. He would put alame man's pack on top of his own and carry it. He loved flowers like awoman. He loved to look at the stars at night and the colors of thesunset and the morning dew on the meadows. I never saw a man so much inlove with fun and beauty. "

 * * * * *

They reached Havana that evening and sold their canoe to a man who keptboats to rent on the river shore. They ate a hot supper at the tavern andgot a ride with a farmer who was going ten miles in their direction. Fromhis cabin some two hours later they set out afoot in the darkness. 

"I reckon it will be easier under the stars than under the hot sun, " saidAbe. "Our legs have had a long rest anyhow. "

They enjoyed the coolness and beauty of the summer night. 

"Going home is the end of all journeys, " said Abe as they tramped along. "Did it ever occur to you that every living creature has its home? Thefish of the sea, the birds of the air, the beasts of the field andforest, the creepers in the grass, all go home. Most of them turn towardit when the day wanes. The call of home is the one voice heard andrespected all the way down the line of life. And, ye know, the mostwonderful and mysterious thing in nature is the power that fool animalshave to go home through great distances, like the turtle that swam fromthe Bay of Biscay to his home off Van Dieman's Land. Somehow coming overin a ship he had blazed a trail through the pathless deep more than tenthousand miles long. It's the one miraculous gift--the one call that'sirresistible. Don't you hear it now? I never lie down in the darknesswithout thinking of home when I am away. "

"And it's hard to change your home when you're wonted to it, " said Harry. 

"Yes, it's a little like dying when you pull up the roots and move. It'sbeen hard on your folks. "

This remark brought them up to the greatest of mysteries. They tramped insilence for a moment. Abe broke in upon it with these words:

"I reckon there must be another home somewhere to go to after we havebroke the last camp here and a kind of a bird's compass to help us findit. I reckon we'll hear the call of it as we grow older. "

He stopped and took off his hat and looked up at the stars and added:

"If it isn't so I don't see why the long procession of life keeps harpingon this subject of home. I think I see the point of the whole thing. Itisn't the place or the furniture that makes it home, but the love andpeace that's in it. By and by our home isn't here any more. It has moved. Our minds begin to beat about in the undiscovered countries looking forit. Somehow we get it located--each man for himself. "

For another space they hurried along without speaking. 

"I tell you, Harry, whatever a large number of intelligent folks haveagreed upon for some generations is so--if they have been allowed to dotheir own thinking, " said Abe. "It's about the only wisdom there is. "

He had sounded the keynote of the new Democracy. 

"There are some who think that Reason is the only guide but in the oneproblem of going home it don't compare with the turtle's wisdom, " Abeadded. "His head isn't bigger than a small apple. But I reckon thescientist can't teach him anything about navigation. Reminds me o' SteveNuckles. His head is full of ignorance but he'll know how to get homewhen the time comes. "

"My stars! How we're hurrying!" Harry exclaimed at length. 

"I didn't realize it--I'm so taken up with the thought of getting back, "said Abe. "It's as if my friends had a rope around me and were pullingit. "

So under the lights of heaven, speaking in the silence of the night, ofimpenetrable mysteries, they journeyed on toward the land of plenty. 

"It's as still as a graveyard, " Harry whispered when they had climbed thebluff by the mill long after midnight and were near the little village. 

"They're all buried in sleep, " said Abe. "We'll get Rutledge out of bed. He'll give us a shake-down somewhere. "

His loud rap on the door of the tavern signalized more than a desire forrest in the weary travelers, for just then a cycle of their lives hadended. 

BOOK TWO

CHAPTER X

IN WHICH ABE AND SAMSON WRESTLE AND SOME RAIDERS COME TO BURN AND STAY TOREPENT

Within a week after their return the election came off and Abe wasdefeated, although in his precinct two hundred and twenty-seven out of atotal of three hundred votes had been cast for him. He began to considerwhich way to turn. He thought seriously of the trade of the blacksmithwhich many advised. Burns and Shakespeare, who had been with him inrecent vicissitudes seemed to disagree with him. Jack Kelso, who hadwelcomed the returning warriors in the cheery fashion of old, vigorouslyopposed his trying "to force the gates of fortune with the strong arm. "They were far more likely to yield, he said, to a well trained intellectof which mighty sinews were a poor tool but a good setting. Moreover, Major John T. Stuart--a lawyer of Springfield--who had been his comradein the "war" had encouraged him to study law and, further, had offered tolend him books. So he looked for an occupation which would give himleisure for study. Offut, his former employer, had failed and clearedout. The young giant regarded thoughtfully the scanty opportunities ofthe village. He could hurl his great strength into the ax-head and makea good living but he had learned that such a use of it gave him a betterappetite for sleep than study. 

John McNeil, who for a short time had shared his military adventures, hadbecome a partner of Samuel Hill in a store larger and better stocked thanany the village had known. But Hill and McNeil had no need of a clerk. Rowan Herndon and William Berry--he of the morning-glory shirt--hadopened a general store. Mr. Herndon offered to sell his interest to Abeand take notes for his pay. It was not a proposition that promisedanything but loss. The community was small and there were three otherstores and there was no other "Bill" Berry, who was given to drink anddreams as Abe knew. He was never offensive. Drink begat in Bill Berry abenevolent form of intemperance. It imparted to him a feeling of pity forthe human race and a deep sense of obligation to it. In his cups heacquired a notable generosity and politeness. In the words of Jack Kelsohe was then "as placid as a mill pond and as full of reflection. " He hadmany friends and no one had questioned his honesty. 

Abe Lincoln had not been trained to weigh the consequences of a businessenterprise. The store would give him leisure for study and New Salemcould offer him nothing else save consuming toil with the axe or the saw. He could not think of leaving the little cabin village. There were AnnRutledge and Jack Kelso and Samson Traylor and Harry Needles. Everyladder climber in the village and on the plain around it was his friend. 

Upon these people who knew and respected him Abe Lincoln based his hopes. Among them he had found his vision and failure had not diminished ordimmed it. He would try again for a place in which he could serve themand if he could learn to serve Sangamon County he could learn to servethe state and, possibly, even the Republic. With this thought and arather poor regard for his own interest his name fell into bad companyon the sign board of Berry and Lincoln. Before he took his place in thestore he walked to Springfield and borrowed a law book from his friendMajor Stuart. 

The career of the firm began on a hot day late in August with Bill Berrysmoking his pipe in a chair on the little veranda of the store and AbeLincoln sprawled in the shade of a tree that partly overhung its roof, reading a law book. The latter was collarless and without coat orwaistcoat. His feet were in yarn socks and heavy cloth slippers. Mr. Berry was looking intently at nothing. He was also thinking of nothingwith a devotion worthy of the noblest cause. No breeze touched the millpond of his consciousness. He would have said that he "had his traps setfor an idea and was watching them. " Generally he was watching his trapswith a look of dreamy contemplation. He, too, wore no coat or waistcoat. His calico shirt was decorated with diminutive roses in pink ink. Hisready tied necktie was very red and fastened on his collar button with anelastic loop. A nugget of free gold which, he loved to explain, had comefrom the Rocky Mountains and had ten dollars' worth of the root of evilin it, adorned his shirt-front--dangling from a pin bar on a tiny chain. 

The face of Mr. Berry suddenly assumed a look of animation. A small, yellow dog which had been lying in repose beside him rose and growled, his hair rising, and with a little cry of alarm and astonishment fledunder the store. 

"Here comes Steve Nuckles on his old mare with a lion following him, "said Berry. 

Abe closed his book and rose and looked at the approaching minister andhis big dog. 

"If we ain't careful we'll git prayed for plenty, " said Berry. 

"If the customers don't come faster I reckon we'll need it, " said Abe. 

"Howdy, " said the minister as he stopped at the hitching bar, dismountedand tied his mare. "Don't be skeered o' this 'ere dog. He were tied whenI left home but he chawed his rope an' come a'ter me. I reckon if nobodyfeeds him he'll patter back to-night. "

"He's a whopper!" said Abe. 

"He's the masteris' dog I ever did see, " said the minister, a tall, lank, brawny, dark-skinned man with gray eyes, sandy whiskers on the point ofhis chin, and clothes worn and faded. "Any plug tobaccer?"

"A back load of it, " said Berry, going into the store to wait on theminister. 

When they came out the latter carved off a corner of the plug with hisjack-knife, put it into his mouth and sat down on the door-step. 

"Mr. Nuckles, how did you happen to become a minister?" Abe asked. 

"Well, sur, I done had a dream, " said the Reverend Mr. Nuckles, as heclasped his hands over a knee and chewed vigorously. "I done dreamt thatI had swallered a double wagon and that the tongue o' the wagon werestickin' out o' my mouth. It were a cur'ous dream an' I cain't tell whatyou'd make of it, but I done tuk it for a sign that my tongue were to beused on the gospel. "

"It shows that a man who can swaller a wagon can swaller anything, " saidAbe. "But I'm glad you took it for a sign. You've done a lot of good inthis country. I've seen you out in all weather and you've made over manya man and broke and bitted some of the wildest colts on the prairie. "

"I jes' keep watch an' when ol' Satan comes snoopin' eround I'm rightthar to ketch holt an' flop him. It done come to pass frequent I've laidit on till he were jest a hollerin' fer mercy. Where do Samson Traylorlive?"

Abe took him to the road and pointed the way. 

"There be goin' to be a raid, " said Nuckles. "I reckon, by all I'veheard, it'll come on to-night. "

"A raid! Who's going to be raided?" Abe asked. 

"Them Traylor folks. A lady done tol' me yesterday. Soon as ever I gother soul saved she blabbed it. Thar be a St. Louis man name o' Biggs, done stirred up the folks from Missourey and Tennessee on the south road'bout the Yankee who holps the niggers out o' bondage. Them folks'd haveslavery in this here county if they could. They be right hot I reckon. Astranger done been goin' eround with whisky in his bags startin' a bando' regulators. Held a meetin' las' Sunday. They be goin' to do someregulatin' to-night. Ol' Satan'll break loose. Ef you don't wa'ch outthey'll come over an' burn his house sartin. "

"We'll watch out, " said Abe. "They don't know Traylor. He's one of thebest men in this country. "

"I've heered he were a he man an' a right powerful, God-fearin' man, "said the minister. 

"He's one of the best men that ever came to this country and any one thatwants to try his strength is welcome to; I don't, " said Abe. "Are yougoing over there?"

"I were goin' to warn 'em an' holp 'em ef I cain. "

"Well, go on, but don't stir 'em up, " Abe cautioned him. "Don't say aword about the raid. I'll be over there with some other fellers soonafter sundown. We'll just tell 'em it's a he party come over for astory-tellin' an' a rassle. I reckon we'll have some fun. Ride on overand take supper with 'em. They're worth knowing. "

In a few minutes the minister mounted his horse and rode away followed byhis big dog. 

"If I was you I wouldn't go, " said Berry. 

"Why not?"

"It'll hurt trade. Let the rest of Traylor's friends go over. There'senough of 'em. "

"We must all stand as one man for law and order, " said Abe. "If we don'tthere won't be any. "

As soon as Abe had had his supper he went from house to house and askedthe men to come to his store for a piece of important business. When theyhad come he told them what was in the wind. Soon after that hour Abe andPhilemon Morris, and Alexander Ferguson, and Martin Waddell and RobertJohnson and Joshua Miller and Jack Kelso and Samuel Hill and John McNeilset out for the Traylor cabin. Doctors Allen and Regnier and JamesRutledge and John Cameron and Isaac Gollaher, being older men, wererequested to remain in the village and to use their guns, if necessary, to prevent a demonstration there. Samson greeted the party with a lookof surprise. 

"Have you come out to hang me?" he asked. 

"No just to hang around ye, " said Abe. 

"This time it's a heart warmin', " Jack Kelso averred. "We left our wivesat home so that we could pay our compliments to Mrs. Traylor withoutreserve knowing you to be a man above jealousy. "

"It's what we call a he party on the prairies, " said Ferguson. "For onething I wanted to see Abe and the minister have a rassle. "

The Reverend Stephen Nuckles stood in front of the door with Sarah andHarry and the children. He was a famous wrestler. Forthwith he playfullyjumped into the air clapping his heels together three times before hetouched the ground. 

"I cain't rassle like I used to could but I be willin' to give ye a try, Abe, " said the minister. 

"You'd better save your strength for ol' Satan, " said Abe. 

"Go on, Abe, " the others urged. "Give him a try. "

Abe modestly stepped forward. In the last year he had grown less inclinedto that kind of fun. The men took hold of each other, collar and elbow. They parried with their feet for an instant. Suddenly Abe's long rightleg caught itself behind the left knee of the minister. It was the hiplock as they called it those days. Once secured the stronger man wasalmost sure to prevail and quickly. The sturdy circuit rider stoodagainst it for a second until Abe sprang his bow. Then the heels of theformer flew upward and his body came down to the grass, back first. 

"That ar done popped my wind bag, " said the minister as he got up. 

"Call in, " said John McNeil and the others echoed it. 

"I call you, " said the minister turning to McNeil. 

"McNeil!" the onlookers called. 

The stalwart young Irishman stepped forward and said:

"I don't mind measuring my length on the grass. "

This he did in less than half a moment. As the young man rose from thegrass he said:

"I call in Samson Traylot. "

At last the thing which had long been a subject of talk and argument inthe stores and houses of New Salem was about to come to pass--a trial ofstrength and agility between the two great lions of Sangamon County. Either of them would have given a month's work to avoid it. 

"I reckon we better begin our story-tellin', " said Abe. 

"I think so too, " Samson declared. "It's purty dusk now. "

"A rassle--a rassle, " their neighbors shouted. 

"I'd rather give ten bushel o' wheat than miss seein' you fellers takehold o' each other, " said Alexander Ferguson. 

"I would too, " said Martin Waddell. 

So it happened that these friendly giants, each dreading the ordeal, faced each other for a contest. 

"Now we shall see which is the son of Peleus and which the son ofTelemon, " Kelso shouted. 

"How shall we rassle?" Samson asked. 

"I don't care, " said Abe. 

"Rough and tumble, " Ferguson proposed. 

Both men agreed. They bent low intently watching each other, their greathands outreaching. They stood braced for a second and suddenly bothsprang forward. Their shoulders came together with a thud. It was liketwo big bison bulls hurling their weight in the first shock of battle. For a breath each bore with all his strength and then closed with hisadversary. Each had an under hold with one arm, the other hooked around ashoulder. Samson lifted Abe from his feet but the latter with tremendousefforts loosened the hold of the Vermonter, and regained the turf. Theystruggled across the dooryard, the ground trembling beneath their feet. They went against the side of the house shaking it with the force oftheir impact. Samson had broken the grip of one of Abe's hands and nowhad his feet in the air again but the young giant clung to hip andshoulder and wriggled back to his foothold. Those lesser men werethrilled and a little frightened by the mighty struggle. Knowing thestrength of the wrestlers they felt a fear of broken bones. Each had torna rent in the coat of the other. If they kept on there was danger thatboth would be stripped. The children had begun to cry. Sarah begged thestruggling men to stop and they obeyed her. 

"If any of you fellers think that's fun you can have my place, " said Abe. "Samson, I declare you elected the strongest man in this county. You'vegot the muscle of a grizzly bear. I'm glad to be quit o' ye. "

"It ain't a fair election, Abe, " Samson laughed. "If you were rasslingfor the right you could flop me. This little brush was nothing. Yourheart wasn't in it, and by thunder, Abe! when it comes to havin' funI rather guess we'd both do better to let each other alone. "

"'Tain't exactly good amusement, not for us, " Abe agreed. 

It was growing dark. Ann Rutledge arrived on her pony, and called Abeaside and told him that the raiders were in the village and were breakingthe windows of Radford's store because he had refused to sell themliquor. 

"Have they any guns with them?" Abe asked. 

"No, " Ann answered. 

"Don't say anything about it, " Abe cautioned her. 

"Just go into the house with Sarah Traylor and sit down and have a goodvisit. We'll look after the raiders. "

Then Abe told Samson what was up. The men concealed themselves in somebushes by the roadside while the minister sat close against an end of thehouse with his blood hound beside him. Before they were settled in theirplaces they heard the regulators coming. The horses of the latter werewalking as they approached. Not a sound came from the men who rode them. They proceeded to the grove just beyond the cabin and hitched theirhorses. There were eight men in the party according to Abe's count asthey passed. The men, in concealment, hurried to the cabin and surroundedit, crouched against the walls. In a moment they could see a big spot, blacker than the darkness, moving toward them. It was the massed raiders. They came on with the stealth of a cat nearing its prey. A lion-like roarbroke the silence. The blood hound leaped forward. The waiting men sprangto their feet and charged. The raiders turned and ran, pell mell, in apanic toward their horses. Suddenly the darkness seemed to fill withmoving figures. One of the fleeing men, whose coat tails the dog hadseized, was yelling for help. The minister rescued him and the dog wenton roaring after the others. When the New Salemites got to the edge ofthe grove they could hear a number of regulators climbing into the treetops. Samson had a man in each hand; Abe had another, while Harry Needlesand Alexander Ferguson were in possession of the man whom the dog hadcaptured. The minister was out in the grove with his blood hound that wasbarking and growling under a tree. Jack Kelso arrived with a lantern. Oneof Samson's captives began swearing and struggling to get away. Samsongave him a little shake and bade him be quiet. The man uttered a cry offear and pain and offered no more resistance. Stephen Nuckles came outof the grove. 

"The rest o' that ar party done gone up-stairs to roost, " said theminister. "I reckon my dog'll keep 'em thar. We better jest tote thesemen inter the house an' have a prayin' bee. I've got a right smart goodchanct, now, to whop ol' Satan. "

They moved the raiders' horses. Then the party--save Harry Needles, whostayed in the grove to keep watch--took its captives into the cabin. 

"You set here with this gun and if any o' them tries to get away you takea crack at him, " said Samson, as they were leaving, in a voice intendedfor the men in the tree-tops. 

The men and the four dejected raiders crowded into the cabin. 

Sarah, who had heard the disturbance and wondered what it meant, met themat the door with a look of alarm. 

"These men came to do us harm, " Samson said to Sarah. "They are goodfellows but they got an idea in their heads that we are bad folks. I hearthat young Mr. Biggs set them up against us. Let's give them a bite toeat the first thing we do. "

They took a look at the captives. Three of them were boys from eighteento twenty years of age. The other was a lanky, bearded Tennessean someforty years old. One of the young lads had hurt his hand in the evening'sfrolic. Blood was dripping from it. The four sat silent and fearful andashamed. 

Sarah made tea and put it with meat and milk and doughnuts and bread andbutter on the table for them. Samson washed and bandaged the boy's wound. The captives ate as if they were hungry while the minister went out tofeed his dog. When the men had finished eating Samson offered themtobacco. The oldest man filled his pipe and lighted it with a coal. Notone of the captives had said a word until this tall Tennessean remarkedafter his pipe was going:

"Thankee, mister. You done been right good to us. "

"Who told you to come here?" Samson demanded. 

"'Twere a man from St. Louis. He done said you hated the South an' wereholpin' niggers to run away. "

"And he offered to pay you to come here and burn this house and runTraylor out of the county, didn't he?" Abe asked. 

"He did--yes, suh--he suah did, " answered the man--like a child in hisignorance and simplicity. 

"I thought so, " Abe rejoined. "You tackled a big job, my friend. Did youknow that every one of you could be sent to prison for a term of yearsand I've a good mind to see that you go there. You men have got to beginright now to behave yourselves mighty proper or you'll begin to supsorrow. "

Stephen Nuckles returned as Abe was speaking. 

"You jest leave 'em to me, Mr. Lincoln, " he said. "These be good men butol' Satan done got his hooks on 'em. Mis' Traylor, ef you don't mind I begoin' to do a job o' prayin' right now. Men, you jest git down on yo'knees right hyar along o' me. "

The men and the minister knelt on the puncheon floor while the latterprayed long and loudly for the saving of their souls. Every one who heardit felt the simple, moving eloquence of the prayer. Kelso said thatChrist's love of men was in it. When the prayer was ended the ministerasked permission to go with the raiders to the barn and spend the nightwith them. Of this curious event Samson wrote in his diary:

 * * * * *

"Of what was done in the barn I have no knowledge but when Nuckles cameback to the house with them in the morning the minister said that theyhad come into the fold and that he would promise for them that they wouldbe good citizens in the future. They got their breakfast, fed and wateredtheir horses and rode away. We found five men up in the tree-tops and thedog on watch. The minister went out and preached to them for about halfan hour and then prayed for their souls. When that was over he said:

"'Now, boys, be you ready to accept Christ and a good breakfast? If notyou'll have to git a new grip on yer pews an' set right thar while Ipreach another sermon. Thar ain't nary one of us goin' to break our fasttill you're willin' to be saved. '

"They caved in. 

"'I couldn't stan' another sermon no how, ' said one in a sorrowful voice. 'I feel like a wownded bird. Send up a charge o' buck shot if you keerto, but don't preach no more sermons to me. It's jest a waste o' breath. I reckon we're all on the monah's bench. '

"When they had come down out of the tree-tops not one of them could standon his legs for a little while. "

 * * * * *

The gentleman of the sorrowful voice and the broken spirit said:

"'Pears like I'll have to be tuk down an' put together again. "

They were meek and sore when they limped to the cabin and washed on thestand by the doorside and went in to breakfast. After they had eaten theminister prayed some more and rode away with them. 

It is recorded later in the diary that the rude Shepherd of the prairiesworked with these men on their farms for weeks until he had them wontedto the fold. 

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH ABE, ELECTED TO THE LEGISLATURE, GIVES WHAT COMFORT HE CAN TOANN RUTLEDGE IN THE BEGINNING OF HER SORROWS. ALSO HE GOES TO SPRINGFIELDFOR NEW CLOTHES AND IS ASTONISHED BY ITS POMP AND THE CHANGE IN ELI. 

Radford's grocery had been so wrecked by the raiders that its owner wasdisheartened. Reenforced by John Cameron and James Rutledge he hadsucceeded in drawing them away before they could steal whisky enough toget drunk. But they had thrown many of his goods into the street. Radfordmended his windows and offered his stock for sale. After a time Berry andLincoln bought it, giving notes in payment, and applied for a license tosell the liquors they had thus acquired. 

The Traylors had harvested a handsome crop of corn and oats and wheatonly to find that its value would be mostly consumed by threshing andtransportation to a market. Samson was rather discouraged. 

"It's the land of plenty but it's an awful ways from the land of money, "he said. "We've got to hurry up and get Abe into the Legislature or thiscommunity can't last. We've got to have some way to move things. "

None of their friends had come out to them and only one letter from homehad reached the cabin since April. 

Late that autumn a boy baby arrived in their home. Mrs. Onstott, Mrs. Waddell and Mrs. Kelso came to help and one or the other of them did thenursing and cooking while Sarah was in bed and for a little timethereafter. The coming of the baby was a comfort to this lonely mother ofthe prairies. Joe and Betsey asked their father in whispers while Sarahwas lying sick where the baby had come from. 

"I don't know, " he answered. 

"Don't you know?" Joe asked with a look of wonder. 

"No, sir, I don't--that's honest, " said Samson. "But there's some thatsay they come on the back of a big crane and at the right home the ol'crane lights an' pecks on the door and dumps 'em off, just as gentle ashe can. "

Joe examined the door carefully to find where the crane had pecked on it. 

That day he confided to Betsey that in his opinion the baby didn't amountto much. 

"Why?" Betsey asked. 

"Can't talk or play with any one or do anything but just make a noiselike a squirrel. Nobody can do anything but whisper an' go 'round on histiptoes. "

"He's our little brother and we must love him, " said Betsey. 

"Yes; we've got to love him, " said Joe. "But it's worse 'n pickin' uppotatoes. I wisht he'd gone to some other house. "

That day Sarah awoke from a bad dream with tears flowing down her cheeks. She found the little lad standing by her pillow looking very troubled. Hekissed her and whispered:

"God help us all and make His face to shine upon us. "

There is a letter from Sarah to her brother dated May, 10, 1833, in whichshe sums up the effect of all this and some months of history in thewords that follow:

"The Lord has given us a new son. I have lived through the ordeal--thanksto His goodness--and am strong again. The coming of the baby hasreconciled us to the loss of our old friends as much as anything could. It has made this little home dear to us and proved the quality of our newfriends. Nothing is too much for them to do. I don't wonder that AbeLincoln has so much confidence in the people of this country. They aresound at heart both the northerners and the southerners 'though some ofthe latter that we see here are awfully ignorant and prejudiced. We havehad wonderful fun with the children since the baby was born. It has beenlike a play or a story book to hear the talk of Joe and Betsey. She lovesto play mother to this wonderful new doll and is quite a help to me. Harry Needles is getting over his disappointment. He goes down to thestore often to sit with Abe and Jack Kelso and hear them talk. He andSamson are getting deeply interested in politics. Abe lets Harry read thebooks that he borrows from Major Stuart of Springfield. The boy is benton being a lawyer and improving his mind. Samson found him the other daymaking a speech to the horses and to poor Sambo out in the barn. BimKelso writes to her mother that she is very happy in her new home butthere is something between the lines which seems to indicate that she istrying to put a good face on a bad matter. What a peril it is to be youngand pretty and a girl! Berry and Lincoln have got a license and areselling liquor in their store but nobody thinks anything of that here. Abe has been appointed Postmaster. Everytime he leaves the store hetakes the letters in his hat and delivers them as he gets a chance. We have named the new baby Samuel. "

The firm of Lincoln and Berry had not prospered. After they had got theirlicense things went from bad to worse with them. Mr. Berry, who handledthe liquors, kept himself in a genial stage of inebriation and sat insmiles and loud calico talking of gold mines and hidden treasure. JackKelso said that a little whisky converted Berry's optimism into opulence. 

"It is the opulence that tends to poverty, " Abe answered. "Berry gets sorich, at times, that he will have nothing to do with the vulgar detailsof trade. "

"And he exhibits such a touching sympathy for the poor, " said Kelso, "youcan't help loving him. I have never beheld such easy and admirablegrandeur. "

The addition of liquors to its stock had attracted some rather toughcharacters to the store. One of them who had driven some women out of itwith profanity was collared by Abe and conducted out of the door andthrown upon the grass where his face was rubbed with smart weed until heyelled for mercy. After that the rough type of drinking man chose hiswords with some care in the store of Berry and Lincoln. 

One evening, of that summer, Abe came out to the Traylors' with a letterin his hat for Sarah. 

"How's business?" Samson asked. 

"Going to peter out I reckon, " Abe answered with a sorrowful look. "Itwill leave me badly in debt. I wanted something that would give me achance for study and I got it. By jing! It looks as if I was going tohave years of study trying to get over it. I've gone and jumped into amill pond to get out of the rain. I'd better have gone to Harvard Collegeand walked all the way. Have you got any work to give me? You know I cansplit rails about as fast as the next man and I'll take my pay in wheator corn. "

"You may give me all the time you can spend outside the store, " saidSamson. 

That evening they had a talk about the whisky business and its relationto the character of Eliphalet Biggs and to sundry infractions of law andorder in their community. Samson had declared that it was wrong to sellliquor. 

"All that kind of thing can be safely left to the common sense of ourpeople, " said Abe. "The remedy is education, not revolution. Slowly thepeople will have to set down all the items in the ledger of common sensethat passes from sire to son. By and by some generation will strike abalance. That may not come in a hundred years. Soon or late the majorityof the people will reach a reckoning with John Barleycorn. If there's toomuch against him they will act. You might as well try to stop a glacierby building a dam in front of it. They have opened an account withSlavery too. By and by they'll decide its fate. "

Such was his faith in the common folk of America whose way of learningand whose love of the right he knew as no man has known it. 

In this connection the New Englander wrote in his diary:

 * * * * *

"He has spent his boyhood in the South and his young manhood in theNorth. He has studied the East and lived in the West. He is the people--Isometimes think--and about as slow to make up his mind. As Isaiah says:'He does not judge after the sight of his eyes neither reprove after thehearing of his ears. ' Abe has to think about it. "

 * * * * *

Many days thereafter Abe and Harry and Samson were out in the woodstogether splitting rails and making firewood. Abe always took his bookwith him and read aloud to Harry and Samson in the noon-hour. He liked toread aloud and thought that he remembered better what he had read withboth eye and ear taking it in. 

One day while they were at work Pollard Simmons came out to them and saidthat John Calhoun the County Surveyor wanted Abe to be his assistant. 

"I don't know how to survey, " said Abe. 

"But I reckon you can learn it, " Simmons answered. "You're purty quick tolearn. "

Abe thought a moment. Calhoun was a Democrat. 

"Would I have to sacrifice any of my principles?" he asked. 

"Nary a one, " said Simmons. 

"Then I'll try and see if I can get the hang of it, " Abe declared. "Ireckon Mentor Graham could help me. "

"Three dollars a day is not to be sneezed at, " said Simmons. 

"No, sir--not if you can get it honest, " Abe answered. "I'm not socareless with my sneezing as some men. Once when Eb Zane was out on theOhio in a row-boat Mike Fink the river pirate got after him. Eb had a tendollar gold piece in his pocket. For fear that he would be captured heclapped it into his mouth. Eb was a good oarsman and got away. He was nosooner out of danger than he fetched a sneeze and blew the gold pieceinto the river. After that he used to say that he had sneezed himselfpoor and that if he had a million dollars it wouldn't bother him tosneeze 'em away. Sneezing is a form of dissipation which has not cost mea cent so far and I don't intend to yield to it. "

Immediately after that Abe got Flint and Gibson's treatise on surveyingand began to study it day and night under the eye of the kindlyschoolmaster. In about six weeks he had mastered the book and reportedfor duty. 

In April Abe wrote another address to the voters announcing that he wasagain a candidate for a seat in the Legislature. Late that month Harrywalked with him to Pappsville where a crowd had assembled to attend apublic sale. When the auctioneer had finished Abe made his first stumpspeech. A drunken man tried to divert attention to himself by sundryinterruptions. Harry asked him to be quiet, whereupon the ruffian and afriend pitched upon the boy and began to handle him roughly. Abe jumpeddown, rushed into the crowd, seized the chief offender and raising himoff his feet flung him into the air. He hit the ground in a heap somefour yards from where Abe stood. The latter resumed his place and wenton with his speech. The crowd cheered him and there was no furtherdisturbance at that meeting. The speech was a modest, straightforwarddeclaration of his principles. When he was leaving several voices calledfor a story. Abe raised a great laugh with a humorous anecdote in whichhe imitated the dialect and manners of a Kentucky backwoodsman. Theykept him on the auctioneer's block for half an hour telling the wise andcurious folk tales of which he knew so many. He had won the crowd by hisprinciples, his humor and good nature as well as by the brave anddecisive exhibition of his great strength. 

Abe and Harry went to a number of settlements in the county with a likeresult save that no more violence was needed. At one place there were menin the crowd who knew Harry's record in the war. They called on him for aspeech. He spoke on the need of the means of transportation in SangamonCounty with such insight and dignity and convincing candor that both Abeand the audience hailed him as a coming man. Abe and he were often seentogether those days. 

In New Salem they were called the disappointed lovers. It was known therethat Abe was very fond of Ann Rutledge although he had not, as yet, openly confessed to any one--not even to Ann--there being no show of hopefor him. Ann was deeply in love with John McNeil--the genial, handsomeand successful young Irishman. The affair had reached the stage offrankness, of an open discussion of plans, of fond affection expressingitself in caresses quite indifferent to ridicule. 

For Ann it had been like warm sunlight on the growing rose. She wasneater in dress, lovelier in form and color, more graceful in movementand sweeter-voiced than ever she had been. It is the old way that Naturehas of preparing the young to come out upon the stage of real life and toact in its moving scenes. Abe manfully gave them his best wishes and whenhe spoke of Ann it was done very tenderly. The look of sadness, which allhad noted in his moments of abstraction, deepened and often covered hisface with its veil. That is another way that Nature has of preparing theyoung. For these the roses have fallen and only the thorns remain. Theyare not lured; they seem to be driven to their tasks, but for all, soonor late, her method changes. 

On a beautiful morning of June, 1834, John McNeil left the village. AbeLincoln and Harry and Samson and Sarah and Jack Kelso and his wife stoodwith the Rutledges in the dooryard of the tavern when he rode away. Hewas going back to his home in the far East to return in the autumn andmake Ann his bride. The girl wept as if her heart would break when heturned far down the road and waved his hand to her. 

"Oh, my pretty lass! Do you not hear the birds singing in the meadows?"said Jack Kelso. "Think of the happiness all around you and of thegreater happiness that is coming when he returns. Shame on you!"

"I'm afraid he'll never come back, " Ann sobbed. 

"Nonsense! Don't get a maggot in your brain and let the crows go walkingover your face. Come, we'll take a ride in the meadows and if I don'tbring you back laughing you may call me no prophet. "

So the event passed. 

Harry traveled about with Abe a good deal that summer, "electioneering, "as they called it, from farm to farm. Samson and Sarah regarded theassociation as a good school for the boy who had a taste for politics. Abe used to go into the fields, with the men whose favor he sought, andbend his long back over a scythe or a cradle and race them playfullyacross the field of grain cutting a wider swath than any other and alwaysholding the lead. Every man was out of breath at the end of his swath andneeded a few minutes for recuperation. That gave Abe a chance for hisstatement of the county's needs and his plan of satisfying them. He hadmet and talked with a majority of the voters before the campaign ended inhis election in August. Those travels about the county had been a sourceof education to the candidate and the voters. 

At odd times that summer he had been surveying a new road with HarryNeedles for his helper. In September they resumed their work upon it inthe vicinity of New Salem and Abe began to carry the letters in his hatagain. Every day Ann was looking for him as he came by in the dim lightof the early morning on his way to work. 

"Anything for me?" she would ask. 

"No mail in since I saw you, Ann, " was the usual answer. 

Often he would say: "I'm afraid not, but here--you take these letters andlook through 'em and make sure. "

Ann would take them in her hands, trembling with eagerness, and runindoors to the candlelight, and look them over. Always she came back withthe little bundle of letters very slowly as if her disappointment were aheavy burden. 

"There'll he one next mail if I have to write it myself, " Abe said onemorning in October as he went on. 

To Harry Needles who was with him that morning he said:

"I wonder why that fellow don't write to Ann. I couldn't believe that hehas been fooling her but now I don't know what to think of him. Every dayI have to deliver a blow that makes her a little paler and thinner. Ithurts me like smashing a finger nail. I wonder what has happened to thefellow. "

The mail stage was late that evening. As it had not come at nine Mr. Hillwent home and left Abe in the store to wait for his mail. The stagearrived a few minutes later. It came as usual in a cloud of dust and athunder of wheels and hoofs mingled with the crack of the lash, thedriver saving his horses for this little display of pride and pomp onarriving at a village. Abe examined the little bundle of letters andnewspapers which the driver had left with him. Then he took a paper andsat down to read in the firelight. While he was thus engaged the dooropened softly and Ann Rutledge entered. The Postmaster was not awareof her presence until she touched his arm. 

"Please give me a letter, " she said. 

"Sit down, Ann, " said he, very gently, as he placed a chair in thefire-glow. 

She took it, turning toward him with a look of fear and hope. Then headded:

"I'm sorry but the truth is it didn't come. "

"Don't--don't tell me that again, " she pleaded in a broken voice, as sheleaned forward covering her face with her hands. 

"It is terrible, Ann, that I have to help in this breaking of your heartthat is going on. I seem to be the head of the hammer that hits you sohard but the handle is in other hands. Honestly, Ann, I wish I could dothe suffering for you--every bit of it--and give your poor heart a rest. Hasn't he written you this summer?"

"Not since July tenth, " she answered. Then she confided to Abe the factthat her lover had told her before he went away that his name was notMcNeil but McNamar; that he had changed his name to keep clear of hisfamily until he had made a success; that he had gone east to get hisfather and mother and bring them back with him; lastly she came to thething that worried her most--the suspicion of her father and mother thatJohn was not honest. 

"They say that nobody but a liar would live with a false name, " Ann toldhim. "They say that he probably had a wife when he came here--that thatis why he don't write to me. "

Then after a little silence she pleaded: "You don't think that, do you, Abe?"

"No, " said the latter, giving her the advantage of every doubt. "John dida foolish thing but we must not condemn him without a knowledge of thefacts. The young often do foolish things and sickness would account forhis silence. But whatever the facts are you mustn't let yourself be slainby disappointment. It isn't fair to your friends. John McNamar may be thebest man in the world still the fact remains that it would be a prettygood world even if he were not in it and I reckon there'd be lots of menwhose love would be worth having too. You go home and go to sleep andstop worrying, Ann. You'll get that letter one of these days. "

A day or two later Abe and Harry went to Springfield. Their reason forthe trip lay in a talk between the Postmaster and Jack Kelso the nightbefore as they sat by the latter's fireside. 

"I've been living where there was no one to find fault with my parts ofspeech or with the parts of my legs which were not decently covered, "said Abe. "The sock district of my person has been without representationin the legislature of my intellect up to its last session. Then we got abill through for local improvements and the Governor has approved theappropriation. Suddenly we discovered that there was no money in thetreasury. But Samson Traylor has offered to buy an issue of bonds of theamount of fifteen dollars. "

"I'm glad to hear you declare in favor of external improvements, " saidKelso. "We've all been too much absorbed by internal improvements. You'reon the right trail, Abe. You've been thinking of the public ear and toolittle of the public eye. We must show some respect for both. "

"Sometimes I think that comely dress ought to go with comely diction, "said Abe. "But that's a thing you can't learn in books. There's nogrammarian of the language of dress. Then I'm so big and awkward. It'sa rather hopeless problem. "

"You're in good company, " Kelso assured him. "Nature guards her best menwith some sort of singularity not attractive to others. Often she makesthem odious with conceit or deformity or dumbness or garrulity. Dantewas such a poor talker that no one would ever ask him to dinner. If ithad not been so I presume his muse would have been sadly crippled byindigestion. If you had been a good dancer and a lady's favorite Iwonder if you would have studied Kirkham and Burns and Shakespeare andBlackstone and Starkie, and the science of surveying and been elected tothe Legislature. I wonder if you could even have whipped Jack Armstrong. "

"Or have enjoyed the friendship of Bill Berry and acquired a nationaldebt, or have saved my imperiled country in the war with Black Hawk, " Abelaughed. 

In the matter of dress the Postmaster had great confidence in the tasteand knowledge of his young friend, Harry Needles, whose neat appearanceAbe regarded with serious admiration. So he asked Harry to go with him onthis new mission and help to choose the goods and direct the tailoring, for it seemed to him a highly important enterprise. 

"It's a difficult problem, " said Abe. "Given a big man and a small sumand the large amount of respectability that's desired. We mustn't makea mistake. "

They got a ride part of the way with a farmer going home from Rutledge'sMill. 

"Our appropriation is only fifteen dollars, " said Abe as they came insight of "the big village" on a warm bright day late in October. "Ofcourse I can't expect to make myself look like the President of theUnited States with such a sum but I want to look like a respectablecitizen of the United States if that is possible. I'll give the old Abeand fifteen dollars to boot for a new one and we'll see what comes ofit. "

Springfield had been rapidly changing. It was still small and crude butsome of the best standards of civilization had been set up in thatcommunity. Families of wealth and culture in the East had sent theirsons and a share of their capital to this little metropolis of the landof plenty to go into business. The Edwardses in their fine top bootsand ruffled shirts were there. So were certain of the Ridgleys ofMaryland--well known and successful bankers. The Logans and the Conklingsand the Stuarts who had won reputations at the bar before they arrivedwere now settled in Springfield. Handsome, well groomed horses, insilver mounted harness, drawing carriages that shone "so you could seeyour face in them, " to quote from Abe again, were on its streets. 

"My conscience! What a lot of jingling and high stepping there is here inthe street and on the sidewalk, " said Abe as they came into the village. "I reckon there's a mile of gold watch chains in this crowd. "

A public sale was on and the walks were thronged. Women in fine silks andmillinery; men in tall beaver hats and broadcloth and fine linen touchedelbows with the hairy, rough clad men of the prairies and their wornwives in old-fashioned bonnets and faded coats. 

The two New Salem men stopped and studied a big sign in front of a largestore on which this announcement had been lettered:

 "Cloths, cassinettes, cassimeres, velvet silks, satins, Marseilles waistcoating, fine, calf boots, seal and morocco pumps for gentlemen, crepe lisse, lace veils. Thibet shawls, fine prunella shoes. "

"Reads like a foreign language to me, " said Abe. "The pomp of the Easthas got here at last. I'd like to know what seal and morocco pumps are. Ireckon they're a contrivance that goes down into a man's pocket and sucksit dry. I wonder what a cassinette is like, and a prunella shoe. Howwould you like a little Marseilles waistcoating?"

Suddenly a man touched his shoulder with a hearty "Howdy, Abe?"

It was Eli, "the wandering Jew, " as he had been wont to call himself inthe days when he carried a pack on the road through Peter's Bluff andClary's Grove and New Salem to Beardstown and back. 

"Dis is my store, " said Eli. 

"Your store!" Abe exclaimed. 

"Ya, look at de sign. "

The Jew pointed to his sign-board, some fifty feet long under thecornice, on which they read the legend:

 "Eli Fredenberg's Emporium. "

Abe looked him over from head to foot and exclaimed:

"My conscience! You look as if you had been fixed up to be sold to thehighest bidder. "

The hairy, dusty, bow-legged, threadbare peddler had been touched by somemiraculous hand. The lavish hand of the West had showered her favors onhim. They resembled in some degree the barbaric pearl and gold of theEast. He glowed with prosperity. Diamonds and ruffled linen and Scotchplaid and red silk on his neck and a blue band on his hat and asmooth-shorn face and perfumery were the glittering details thatsurrounded the person of Eli. 

"Come in, " urged the genial proprietor of the Emporium. "I vould like toshow you my goots and introduce you to my brudder. "

They went in and met his brother and had their curiosity satisfied as tothe look and feel of cassinettes and waistcoatings and seal and moroccopumps and prunella shoes. 

In the men's department after much thoughtful discussion they decidedupon a suit of blue jeans--that being the only goods which, in view ofthe amount of cloth required, came within the appropriation. Eli advisedagainst it. 

"You are like Eli already, " he said. "You haf got de pack off your back. Look at me. Don't you hear my clothes say somet'ing?"

"They are very eloquent, " said Abe. 

"Vell dey make a speech. Dey say 'Eli Fredenberg he is no more a poordevil. You can not sneeze at him once again. Nefer. He has climb deladder up. ' Now you let me sell you somet'ing vat makes a good speech foryou. "

"If you'll let me dictate the speech I'll agree, " said Abe. 

"Vell-vat is it?" Eli asked. 

"I would like my clothes to say in a low tone of voice: 'This is humbleAbraham Lincoln about the same length and breadth that I am. He don'twant to scare or astonish anybody. He don't want to look like a beggaror a millionaire. Just put him down for a hard working man of goodintentions who is badly in debt. '"

That ended all argument. The suit of blue jeans was ordered and themeasures taken. As they were about to go Eli said:

"I forgot to tell you dot I haf seen Bim Kelso de odder day in St. Louis. I haf seen her on de street. She has been like a queen so grand! De hatand gown from Paris and she valk so proud! But she look not so happy likeshe usit to be. I speak to her. Oh my, she vas glad and so surprised! Shetolt me dot she vould like to come home for a visit but her husband hedoes not vant her to go dere--nefer again. My jobber haf tolt me dot Mr. Biggs is git drunk efery day. Bim she t'ink de place no good. She haftolt me dey treat de niggers awful. She haf cry ven she tolt me dot. "

"Poor child!" said Abe. "I'm afraid she's in trouble. "

"I've been thinking for some time that I'd go down there and try to seeher, " said Harry as they were leaving the store. "Now, I'll have to go. "

"Maybe I'll go with you, " said Abe. 

They got a ride part of the way back and had a long tramp again under thestarlight. 

"I don't believe you had better go down to St. Louis, " Abe remarked asthey walked along. "It might make things worse. I'm inclined to thinkthat I'd do better alone with that problem. "

"I guess you're right, " said Harry. "It would be like me to do somethingfoolish. "

"And do it very thoroughly, " Abe suggested. "You're in love with thegirl. I wouldn't trust your judgment in St. Louis. "

"She hasn't let on to her parents that she's unhappy. Mother Traylor toldme that they got a letter from her last week that told of the good timesshe was having. "

"We know what that means. She can't bear to acknowledge to them that shehas made a mistake and she don't want to worry them. Her mother is inpart responsible for the marriage. Bim don't want her to be blamed. Elicaught her off her guard and her heart and her face spoke to him. "

In a moment Abe added: "Her parents have begun to suspect that somethingis wrong. They have never been invited to go down there and visit thegirl. I reckon we'd better say nothing to any one of what we have heardat present. "

They reached New Salem in the middle of the night and went intoRutledge's barn and lay down on the haymow between two buffalo hidesuntil morning. 

CHAPTER XII

WHICH CONTINUES THE ROMANCE OF ABE AND ANN UNTIL THE FORMER LEAVES NEWSALEM TO BEGIN HIS WORK IN THE LEGISLATURE. ALSO IT DESCRIBES THECOLONELING OF PETER LUKINS. 

The next day after his return, Abe received a letter for Ann. She hadcome over to the store on the arrival of the stage and taken her letterand run home with it. That Saturday's stage brought the new suit ofclothes from Springfield. Sunday morning Abe put it on and walked over toKelso's. Mrs. Kelso was sweeping the cabin. 

"We shall have to stand outside a moment, " said Jack. "I have aninappeasable hatred of brooms. A lance in the hand of the Black Knightwas not more terrible than a broom in the hands of a righteous woman. Ihad to flee from _The Life and Adventures of Duncan Campbell_ when I sawthe broom flashing in a cloud of dust and retreated. "

He stepped to the door and said: "A truce, madam! Here is the HonorableAbraham Lincoln in his new suit. "

Mrs. Kelso came out-of-doors and she and her husband surveyed the tallyoung Postmaster. 

"Well it is, at least, sufficient, " said Kelso. 

"The coat ought to be a little longer, " Mrs. Kelso suggested. 

"It will be long enough before I get another, " said Abe. 

"It is not what one would call an elegant suit but it's all right, " Kelsoadded. 

"The fact is, elegance and I wouldn't get along well together, " Abeanswered. "It would be like going into partnership with Bill Berry. "

"Next month you'll be off at the capital and we shall be going toTazewell County, " said Kelso. 

"To Tazewell County!"

"Aye. It's a changing world! We should always remember that things cannot go on with us as they are. The Governor has given me a job. "

"And me a great sadness, " said Abe. "You must always let me know where tofind you. "

"Aye! Many a night you and I shall hear the cock crowing. "

It was an Indian summer day of the first week in November. That afternoonAbe went to the tavern and asked Ann to walk out to the Traylors' withhim. She seemed to be glad to go. She was not the cheerful, quick footed, rosy cheeked Ann of old. Her face was pale, her eyes dull and listless, her step slow. Neither spoke until they had passed the Waddell cabin andwere come to the open fields. 

"I hope your letter brought good news, " said Abe. 

"It was very short, " Ann answered. "He took a fever in Ohio and was sickthere four weeks and then he went home. In two months he never wrote aword to me. And this one was only a little bit of a letter with no lovein it. I don't believe he will ever come back. I don't think he cares forme now or, perhaps, he is married. I don't know. I'm not going to cryabout it any more. I can't. I've no more tears to shed. I've given himup. "

"Then I reckon the time has come for me to tell you what is on my heart, "said Abe. "I love you, Ann. I have loved you for years. I would have toldyou long ago but I could not make myself believe that I was good enoughfor you. I love you so much that if you can only be happy with JohnMcNamar I will pray to God that he may turn out to be a good and faithfulman and come back and keep his promise. " She looked up at him with a kindof awe in her face. 

"Oh, Abe!" she whispered. "I had made up my mind that men were all badbut my father. I was wrong. I did not think of you. "

"Men are mostly good, " said Abe. "But it's very easy to misunderstandthem. In my view it's quite likely that John McNamar is better than youthink him. I want you to be fair to John. If you conclude that you cannot be happy with him give me a chance. I would do my best to bring backthe joy of the old days. Sometimes I think that I am going to dosomething worth while. Sometimes I think that I can see my way far aheadand it looks very pleasant, and you, Ann, are always walking beside me init. "

They proceeded in silence for a moment. A great flock of wild pigeonsdarkened the sky above them and filled it with the whirr of their wings. The young man and woman stopped to look up at them. 

"They are going south, " said Abe. "It's a sign of bad weather. "

They stood talking for a little time. 

"I'm glad they halted us for we have not far to go, " Abe remarked. "Before we take another step I wish you could give me some hope to liveon--just a little straw of hope. "

"You are a wonderful man, Abe, " said Ann, touched by his appeal. "Myfather says that you are going to be a great man. "

"I can not hold out any such hope to you, " Abe answered. "I'm ratherignorant and badly in debt but I reckon that I can make a good living andgive you a comfortable home. Don't you think, taking me just as I am, youcould care for me a little?"

"Yes; sometimes I think that I could love you, Abe, " she answered. "I donot love you yet but I may--sometime. I really want to love you. "

"That is all I can ask now, " said Abe as they went on. "Do you hear fromBim Kelso?"

"I have not heard from her since June. "

"I wish you would write to her and tell her that I am thinking of goingdown to St. Louis and that I would like to go and see her. "

"I'll write to her to-morrow, " said Ann. 

They had a pleasant visit and while Ann was playing with the baby sheseemed to have forgotten her troubles. They stayed to supper, after whichthe whole family walked to the tavern with them, Joe and Betsey drawingthe baby in their "bumble wagon, " which Samson had made for them. WhenAnn began to show weariness, Abe gently lifted her in his arms andcarried her. 

That evening Mrs. Peter Lukins called upon Abe at Sam Hill's store wherehe sat alone, before the fire, reading with two candles burning on theend of a dry goods box at his elbow. 

There was an anxious look in her one eye as she accepted his invitationto sit down in the firelight. 

"I wanted to see you private 'bout Lukins, " she began. "There's them thatcalls him Bony Lukins but I reckon he ain't no bonier than the everidgerun o' men--not a bit--an' if he was I don't reckon his bones orto bethrowed at him every time he's spoke to that away. "

Peter Lukins was a slim, sober faced, quiet little man with a long nosewho worked in the carding mill. He never spoke, save when spoken to, andthen with a solemn look as if the matter in hand, however slight, werelikely to affect his eternal welfare. In his cups he was speechless and, in a way, dumb with merriment. He answered no questions, he expressed noopinions, he told no stories. He only smiled and broke into roars oflaughter, even if there was no one to share his joy, as if convinced, atlast, of the hopeless absurdity of life. Some one told of following himfrom Springfield to New Salem and of hearing him laugh all the way. Manyhad noted another peculiarity in the man. He seemed always to have aweek's growth of beard on his face. 

"What can I do about it?" Abe asked. 

"I've been hopin' an' wishin' some kind of a decent handle could be puton to his name, " said Mrs. Lukins, with her eye upon a knot hole in thecounter. "Something with a good sound to it. You said that anything youcould do for the New Salem folks you was goin' to do an' I thought maybeyou could fix it. "

Abe smiled and asked: "Do you want a title?"

"If it ain't plum owdacious I wisht he could be made a Colonel. "

"That's a title for fighting men, " said Abe. 

"An' that man has fit for his life ever since he was born, " said Mrs. Lukins. "He's fit the measles an' the smallpox an' the fever an' ager an'conquered 'em. "

"I reckon he deserves the title, " Abe remarked. 

"I ain't sayin' but what there is purtier men, " she said, reflectively, as she stuck her finger into the knot hole and felt its edges. "I ain'tsayin' but what there is smarter men but I do say that the name o' Bonyain't hardly fit to be heard in company. "

"A little whitewash wouldn't hurt it any, " said Abe. "I'd gladly give himmy title of Captain if I could unhitch it someway. "

"Colonel is a more grander name, " she insisted. "I call it plumcoralapus. "

She had thus expressed her notion of the limit of human grandeur. 

"Do you like it better than Judge?"

"Wall, Judge has a good sound to it but I'm plum sot on Colonel. If youkin give that name to a horse, which Samson Traylor has done it, I don'tsee why a man shouldn't be treated just as well. "

"I'll see what can be done but if he gets that title he'll have to liveup to it. "

"I'll make him walk a chalk line--you see, " the good woman promised asshe left the store. 

That evening Abe wrote a playful commission as Colonel for Peter Lukinswhich was signed in due time by all his friends and neighbors andpresented to Lukins by a committee of which Abe was chairman. 

Coleman Smoot--a man of some means who had a farm on the road toSpringfield--was in the village that evening. Abe showed him thecommission and asked him to sign it. 

"I'll sign it on one condition, " said Smoot. 

"What is that?" Abe asked. 

"That you'll give me a commission. "

"A man like you can't expect too much. Would you care to be a General?"

"I wouldn't give the snap of my finger for that. What I want to be isyour friend. "

"You are that now, aren't you?" Abe asked. 

"Yes, but I haven't earned my commission. You haven't given me a chanceyet. What can I do to help you along?"

Abe was much impressed by these kindly words. "My friends do not oftenask what they can do for me, " he said. "I suppose they haven't thought ofit. I'll think it over and let you know. "

Three days later he walked out to Coleman Smoot's after supper. As theysat together by the fireside Abe said:

"I've been thinking of your friendly question. It's dangerous to talkthat way to a man like me. The fact is I need two hundred dollars to paypressing debts and give me something in my pocket when I go to Vandalia. If you can not lend it to me I shall think none the less of you. "

"I can and will, " said Smoot. "I've been watching you for a long time. A man who tries as hard as you do to get along deserves to be helped. Ibelieve in you. I'll go up to Springfield and get the money and bring itto you within a week or so. "

Abe Lincoln had many friends who would have done the like for him if theycould, and he knew it. 

"Every one has faith in you, " said Smoot. "We expect much of you and weought to be willing to do what we can to help. "

"Your faith will be my strength if I have any, " said Abe. 

On his way home that night he thought of what Jack Kelso had said ofdemocracy and friendship. 

On the twenty-second of November a letter came to Ann from Bim Kelsowhich announced that she was going to New Orleans for the winter with herhusband. Thereupon Abe gave up the idea of going to St. Louis and sixdays later took the stage for the capital, at Rutledge's door, where allthe inhabitants of the village had assembled to bid him good-by. AnnRutledge with a flash of her old playfulness kissed him when he got intothe stage. Abe's long arm was waving in the air as he looked back at hischeering friends while the stage rumbled down the road toward the greattask of his life upon which he was presently to begin in the littlevillage of Vandalia. 

CHAPTER XIII

WHEREIN THE ROUTE OF THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD IS SURVEYED AND SAMSON ANDHARRY SPEND A NIGHT IN THE HOME OF HENRY BRIMSTEAD AND HEAR SURPRISINGREVELATIONS, CONFIDENTIALLY DISCLOSED, AND ARE CHARMED BY THE PERSONALITYOF HIS DAUGHTER ANNABEL. 

Early in the autumn of that year the Reverend Elijah Lovejoy of Alton hadspent a night with the Traylors on his way to the North. Sitting by thefireside he had told many a vivid tale of the cruelties of slavery. 

"I would not have you think that all slave-holders are wicked andheartless, " he said. "They are like other men the world over. Some arekind and indulgent. If all men were like them, slavery could betolerated. But they are not. Some men are brutal in the North as well asin the South. If not made so by nature they are made so by drink. To givethem the power of life and death over human beings, which they seem tohave in parts of the South, is a crime against God and civilization. Ourcountry can not live and prosper with such a serpent in its bosom. Nogood man should rest until the serpent is slain. "

"I agree with you, " said Samson. 

"I knew that you would, " the minister went on. "We have already had somehelp from you but we need more. I take it as a duty which God has laidupon me to help every fugitive that reaches my door. Thousands of NewEnglanders have come into Illinois in the last year. They will help thegood work of mercy and grace. If you hear three taps upon your windowafter dark or the hoot of an owl in your dooryard you will know what itmeans. Fix some place on your farm where these poor people who areseeking the freedom which God wills for all His children, may find restand refreshment and security until they have strength to go on. "

Within a week after the visit of Mr. Lovejoy, Samson and Harry built ahollow haystack about half-way from the house to the barn. The stack hada comfortable room inside of it about eight feet by seven and some sixfeet in height. Its entrance was an opening near the bottom of the stackwell screened by the pendant hay. But no fugitive came to occupy it thatwinter. 

Early in March Abe wrote a letter to Samson in which he said:

 * * * * *

"I have not been doing much. I have been getting the hang of things. There are so many able men here that I feel like being modest for awhile. It's good practice if it is a little hard on me. Here are such menas Theodore Ford, William L. D. Ewing, Stephen T. Logan, Jesse K. Duboisand Governor Duncan. You can not wonder that I feel like lying low untilI can see my way a little more clearly. I have met here a young man fromyour state of the name of Stephen A. Douglas. He is twenty-one years oldand about the least man I ever saw to look at but he is bright and veryambitious. He has taught school and studied law and been admitted to thebar and is bristling up to John J. Hardin in a contest for the office ofState's Attorney. Some pumpkins for a boy of twenty-one I reckon. Nochance for internal improvements this session. Money is plenty and nextyear I think we can begin harping on that string. More than ever I amconvinced that it is no time for anti-slavery agitation much as we mayfeel inclined to it. There's too much fire under the pot now. "

 * * * * *

Soon after the new year of 1835 Samson and Harry moved the Kelsos toTazewell County. Mr. Kelso had received an appointment as Land Agent andwas to be stationed at the little settlement of Hopedale near the home ofJohn Peasley. 

"I hate to be taking you so far away, " said Samson. 

"Hush, man, " said Kelso. "It's a thing to be thought about only in thestill o' the night. "

"I shall be lonesome. "

"But we live close by the wells of wisdom and so shall not becomfortless. "

Late in the afternoon Harry and Samson left the Kelsos and their effectsat a small frame house in the little village of Hopedale. The men had nosooner begun to unload than its inhabitants came to welcome the newcomersand help them in the work of getting settled. When the goods weredeposited in The dooryard Samson and Harry drove to John Peasley's farm. Mr. Peasley recognized the big, broad-shouldered Vermonter at the firstlook. 

"Do I remember you?" he said. "Well, I guess I do. So does my barn door. Let me take hold of that right hand of yours again. Yes, sir. It's thesame old iron hand. Many Ann!" he called as his wife came out of thedoor. "Here's the big man from Vergennes who tossed the purty slaver. "

"I see it is, " she answered. "Ain't ye comin' in?"

"We've been moving a man to Hopedale and shall have to spend the nightsomewhere in this neighborhood, " said Samson. "Our horses are playedout. "

"If you try to pass this place I'll have ye took up, " said Peasley. "There's plenty of food in the house an' stable. "

"Look here-that's downright selfish, " said his wife, "If we tried to keepyou here Henry Brimstead would never forgive us. He talks about youmorning, noon and night. Any one would think that you was the Samson thatslew the Philistines. "

"How is Henry?" Samson asked. 

"He married my sister and they're about as happy as they can be thisside the river Jordan, " she went on. "They've got one o' the best farmsin Tazewell County and they're goin' to be rich. They've built 'em asplendid house with a big spare room in it. Henry would have a spare roombecause he said that maybe the Traylors would be comin' here to visit 'emsome time. "

"Yes, sir; I didn't think o' that, " said Peasley. "Henry and his wifewould holler if we didn't take ye over there. It's only a quarter of amile. I'll show ye the way and we'll all come over this evening and havea talkin' bee. "

Samson was pleased and astonished by the look of Brimstead and his homeand his family and the account of his success. The man from the sandflats had built a square, two-story house with a stairway and three roomsabove it and two below. He was cleanly shaved, save for a black mustache, and neatly dressed and his face glowed with health and high spirits. Ahandsome brown-eyed miss of seventeen came galloping up the road on herpony and stopped near them. 

"Annabel, do you remember this man?" Brimstead asked. 

The girl looked at Samson. 

"He is the man who helped us out of Flea Valley, " said the girl. 

Brimstead leaned close to the ear of Samson and said in a low tone:

"Say, everything knew how to jump there. I had a garden that could hopover the fence and back ag'in. Sometimes it was there and sometimes itwas off on a vacation. I jumped as soon as I got the chance. "

"We call it No Santa Claus Land, " said Samson. "Do ye remember how thelittle girl clung to the wagon?"

"That was me, " said a small miss of ten who ran out of the door into thearms of the big man and kissed him. 

"Would you mind if I kissed you?" Annabel asked. 

"I would be sorry if you didn't, " said Samson. "Here's my boy, HarryNeedles. You wouldn't dare kiss him I guess?'

"I would be sorry, too, if you didn't, " Harry laughed as he took herhand. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay sorry, " said Annabel turning red withembarrassment. "I never saw you before. "

"Better late than never, " Samson assured her. "You don't often see abetter fellow. "

The girl laughed, with a subtle look of agreement in her eyes. Then cameup from the barn the ragged little lad of No Santa Claus Land--now asturdy, bright eyed, handsome boy of eight. 

The horses were put out and all went in to supper. 

"I have always felt sorry for any kind of a slave?" said Samson as theysat down. "When I saw you on the sand plains you were in bondage. "

"Say, I'll tell ye, " said Brimstead, as he leaned toward Samson, seemingto be determined at last to make a clean breast of it. "Say, I didn't ownthat farm. It owned me. I got a sandy intellect. Couldn't get anythingout of it but disappointment. My farm was mortgaged to the bank and I wasmortgaged to the children. I couldn't even die. "

Samson wrote in his diary that night:

 * * * * *

"When Brimstead brings his sense of humor into play he acts as if hewas telling a secret. When he says anything that makes me laugh, he'sterribly confidential. Seems so he was kind of ashamed of it. He neverlaughs himself unless he does it inside. His voice always drops, too, when he talks business. "

 * * * * *

"The man that's a fool and don't know it is a good deal worse off, " saidSamson. 

"Say, I'll tell ye he's worse off but he's happier. If it hurts there'shope for ye. "

"They tell me you've prospered, " said Samson. 

Brimstead spoke in a most confidential tone as he answered: "Say, I'lltell ye--no wise man is ever an idiot but once. I wouldn't care to spreadit around much but we're gettin' along. I've built this house and got myland paid for. You see we are only four miles from the Illinois River ona good road. I can ship my grain to Alton or St. Louis or New Orleanswithout much trouble. I've invented a machine to cut it and a double plowand I expect to have them both working next year. They ought to treble myoutput at least. "

After supper Brimstead showed models of a mowing machine with a cut barsix feet long, and a plow which would turn two furrows. 

"That's what we need on these prairies, " said Samson. "Something that'llturn 'em over and cut the crop quicker. "

"Say, I'll tell ye, " said Brimstead as if about to disclose anothersecret. "I found after I looked the ground over here that I needed abrain. I began to paw around an' discovered a rusty old brain among mytools. It hadn't been used for years. I cleaned an' oiled the thing an'got it workin'. On a little Vermont farm you could git along without itbut here the ground yells for a brain. We don't know how to use ourhorses. They have power enough to do all the hard work, if we only knewhow to put it into wheels and gears. We must begin to work our brains aswell as our muscles on a farm miles long an' wide. "

"It ain't fair to expect the land to furnish all the fertility, " saidSamson. 

Brimstead's face glowed as he outlined his vision:

"These great stretches of smooth, rich land just everlastingly ram thespurs into you and keep your brain galloping. Mine is goin' night andday. The prairies are a new thing and you've got to tackle 'em in a newway. I tell you the seeding and planting and mowing and reaping andthreshing is all going to be done by machinery and horses. The wheel willbe the foundation of the new era. "

"You're right, " said Samson. 

"How are you gettin' along?"

"Rather slow, " Samson answered. "It's hard to get our stuff to marketdown in the Sangamon country. Our river isn't navigable yet. We hope thatAbe Lincoln, who has just been elected to the Legislature, will be ableto get it widened and straightened and cleaned up so it will be of someuse to us down there. "

"I've heard of him. They call him Honest Abe, don't they?"

"Yes; and he is honest if a man ever was. "

"That's the kind we need to make our laws, " said Mrs. Brimstead. "Thereare not many men who get a reputation for honesty. It ought to be easy, but it isn't. "

"Men are pretty good in the main, " said Samson. "But ye know there arenot so many who can exactly toe the mark. They don't know how or they'retoo busy or something. I guess I'm a little careless, and I don't believeI'm a bad fellow either. Abe's conscience don't ever sit down to rest. Hetraveled three miles one night to give back four cents that he hadovercharged a customer. I'd probably have waited to have her come back, and by that time it might have slipped my mind or maybe she would havemoved away. I suppose that in handling dollars we're mostly as honestas Abe, but we're apt to be a little careless with the cents. Abe toedthe penny mark, and that's how he got his reputation. The good God hasgiven him a sense of justice that is like a chemist's balance. It canweigh down to a fraction of a grain. Now he don't care much aboutpennies. He can be pretty reckless with 'em. But when they're a measureon the balance, he counts 'em careful, I can tell ye. "

"Say, I'll tell ye, " said Brimstead. "Honesty is like Sapington's pills. There's nothing that's so well recommended. It has a great many friends. But Honesty has to pay prompt. We don't trust it long. It has poorcredit. When we have to give a dollar's worth of work to correct an errorof four cents, we're apt to decide that Honesty don't pay. But that'swhen it pays best. We've heard the jingle o' them four cents 'way up herein Tazewell County, an' long before you told us. They say he's a smarttalker an' that he can split ye wide open laughin'. "

"He's a great story-teller, but that's a small part of him, " said Samson. "He's a kind of a four horse team. He knows more than any man I ever sawand can tell it and he can wrestle like old Satan and swing a scythe oran axe all day an' mighty supple. He's one of us common folks and don'tpretend to be a bit better. He is, though, and we know it, but I don'tthink he knows it. "

"Say, there ain't many of us smart enough to keep that little pieceof ignorance in our heads, " said Brimstead. "It's worth a fortune, now--ain't it?"

"Is he going to marry the Rutledge girl?" was the query of Mrs. Brimstead. 

"I don't think so, " Samson answered, a little surprised at her knowledgeof the attachment. "He's as humly as Sam Hill and dresses rough and ain'treal handy with the gals. Some fellers are kind o' fenced in withhumliness and awkwardness. "

Brimstead expressed his private opinion in a clearly audible whisper:"Say, that kind o' protection is better'n none. A humly boy don't gittramped on an' nibbled too much. "

Annabel and Harry sat in a corner playing checkers. They seemed to bemuch impressed by the opinion of Mr. Brimstead. For a moment their gamewas forgotten. 

"That boy has a way with the gals, " Samson laughed. "There's no suchfence around either of them. "

"They're both liable to be nibbled some, " said Brimstead. 

"I like to see 'em have a good time, " said his wife. "There are not manyboys to play with out here. "

"The boys around here are all fenced in, " said Annabel. "There's nobodyhere of my age but Lanky Peters, who looks like a fish, and a red-headedIrish boy with a wooden leg. "

"Say, she's like a woodpecker in a country where there ain't any trees, "said Brimstead, in his confidential tone. 

"No I'm not, " the girl answered. "A woodpecker has wings and the right touse them. "

"Cheer up. A lot of people will be moving in here this spring--more boysthan you could shake a stick at, " Mrs. Brimstead remarked, cheerfully. 

"If I shake any stick at them, it will be a stick of candy, for fear ofscaring them away, " said Annabel, with a laugh. 

Brimstead said to Samson: "Say, I'll tell ye, you're back in a cove. Youmust get out into the current. "

"And give the young folks a chance to play checkers together, " saidSamson. 

"Say, I'll tell ye, " said Brimstead. "This country is mostly miles. Theycan be your worst enemy unless you get on the right side of 'em. Aboveall, don't let 'em get too thick between you an' your market. When youknow about where it is, keep the miles behind ye. Great markets will bespringin' up in the North. You'll see a big city growin' on the southernshore of Lake Michigan before long. I think there will be better marketsto the north than there are to the south of us. "

"By jingo!" Samson exclaimed. "Your brain is about as busy as a beehiveon a bright summer day. "

"Say, don't you mention that to a livin' soul, " said Brimstead. "My brainbegan to chase the rainbow when I was a boy. It drove me out o' Vermontinto the trail to the West and landed me in Flea Valley. Now I'm in acountry where no man's dreams are goin' to be big enough to keep up withthe facts. We're right under the end o' the rainbow and there's a pot o'gold for each of us. "

"The railroad will be a help in our fight with the miles, " said Samson. 

"All right. You get the miles behind ye and let the land do the waiting. It won't hurt the land any, but you'd be spoilt if you had to wait twentyyears. "

The Peasleys arrived and the men and women spent a delightful hourtraveling without weariness over the long trail to beloved scenes and thedays of their youth. Every day's end thousands were going east on thattrail, each to find his pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow of memory. 

Before they went to bed that night Brimstead paid his debt to Samson, with interest, and very confidentially. 

At daylight in the morning the team was at the door ready to set out forthe land of plenty. As Samson and Harry were making their farewells, Annabel asked the latter:

"May I whisper something in your ear?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't, " he said. 

He bent his head to her and she kissed his cheek and ran away into thehouse. 

"That means come again, " she called from the door, with a laugh. 

"I guess I'll have to--to get even, " he answered. 

"That's a pretty likely girl, " said Samson, as they were driving away. 

"She's as handsome as a picture. "

"She is--no mistake!" Samson declared. "She's a good-hearted girl, too. You can tell that by her face and her voice. She's as gentle as a kitten, and about as wide awake as a weasel. "

"I don't care much for girls these days, " Harry answered. "I guess I'llnever get married. "

"Nonsense! A big, strapping, handsome young feller like you, only twentyyears old! Of course you'll get married. "

"I don't see how I'm ever going to care much for another girl, " the boyanswered. 

"There are a lot o' things in the world that you don't see, boy. It's abig world and things shift around a good deal and some of our opinionsare apt to move with the wind like thistledown. "

It was a long, wearisome ride back to the land of plenty, over frozenground, with barely an inch of snow upon it, under a dark sky, with achilly wind blowing. 

"After all, it's home, " said Samson, when late in the evening they sawthe lighted windows of the cabin ahead. When they had put out theirhorses and come in by the glowing fire, Samson lifted Sarah in his armsagain and kissed her. 

"I'm kind o' silly, mother, but I can't help it--you look so temptin', "said Samson. 

"She looks like an angel, " said Harry, as he improved his chance toembrace and kiss the lady of the cabin. 

"The wind has been peckin' at us all day, " said Samson. "But it's worthit to get back home and see your face and this blazin' fire. "

"And the good, hot supper, " said Harry, as they sat down at the table. 

They told of the Brimsteads and their visit. 

"Well, I want to know!" said Sarah. "Big house and plenty o' money! Ifthat don't beat all!"

"That oldest girl is the thing that beats all, " said Samson. "She's ashandsome as Bim. "

"I suppose Harry fell in love with her, " Sarah suggested, with a smile. 

"I've lost my ability to fall in love, " said the young man. 

"It will come back--you see, " said Sarah. "I'm going to get her to pay usa visit in the spring. "

Harry went out to feed and water the horses. 

"Did you get along all right?" Samson asked. 

"Colonel Lukins did the chores faithfully, night and morning, " Sarahanswered. "His wife helped me with the sewing yesterday. She talked allday about the 'Colonel. ' Mrs. Beach, that poor woman from Ohio on thewest road who has sent her little girl so often to borrow tea and sugar, came to-day and wanted to borrow the baby. Her baby is sick and herbreasts were paining her. "

CHAPTER XIV

IN WHICH ABE RETURNS FROM VANDALIA AND IS ENGAGED TO ANN, AND THREEINTERESTING SLAVES ARRIVE AT THE HOME OF SAMSON TRAYLOR, WHO, WITH HARRYNEEDLES, HAS AN ADVENTURE OF MUCH IMPORTANCE ON THE UNDERGROUND ROAD. 

Again spring had come. The great meadows were awake and full of color. Late in April their green floor was oversown with golden blossoms lyingclose to the warming breast of the earth. Then came the braver flowers ofMay lifting their heads to the sunlight in the lengthening grasses--redand white and pink and blue--and over all the bird songs. They seemed tovoice the joy in the heart of man. Sarah Traylor used to say that thebeauty of the spring more than paid for the loneliness of the winter. 

Abe came back from the Legislature to resume his duties as postmaster andsurveyor. The evening of his arrival he went to see Ann. The girl was inpoor health. She had had no news of McNamar since January. Her spiritseemed to be broken. They walked together up and down the deserted streetof the little village that evening. Abe told her of his life in Vandaliaand of his hopes and plans. 

"My greatest hope is that you will feel that you can put up with me, " hesaid. "I would try to learn how to make you happy. I think if you wouldhelp me a little I could do it. "

"I don't think I am worth having, " the girl answered. "I feel like alittle old woman these days. "

"It seems to me that you are the only one in the world worth having, "said Abe. 

"If you want me to, I will marry you, Abe, " said she. "I can not say thatI love you, but my mother and father say that I would learn to love you, and sometimes I think it is true. I really want to love you. "

They were on the bluff that overlooked the river and the deserted mill. They were quite alone looking down at the moonlit plains. A broken sighcame from the lips of the tall young man. He wiped his eyes with hishandkerchief. He took her hand in both of his and pressed it against hisbreast and looked down into her face and said:

"I wish I could tell you what is in my heart. There are things thistongue of mine could say, but not that. I shall show you, but I shallnot try to tell you. Words are good enough for politics and even for thereligion of most men, but not for this love I feel. Only in my life shallI try to express it. "

He held her hand as they walked on in silence for a moment. 

"About a year from now we can be married, " he said. "I shall be able totake care of you then, I think. Meanwhile we will all help you to takecare of yourself. You don't look well. "

She kissed his cheek and he kissed hers when they parted at the door ofthe tavern. 

"I am sure I shall love you, " she whispered. 

"Those are the best words that ever came to my ears, " he answered, andleft her with a solemn sense of his commitment. 

Soon after that Abe went to the north line of the county to do somesurveying, and on his return, in the last week of May, came out for atalk with the Traylors. 

"I've been up to the Kelsos' home and had a wonderful talk with him andBrimstead, " said Abe. "They have discovered each other. Kelso lives in aglorious past and Brimstead in a golden future. They're both poets. Kelsois translating the odes of Pindar. Brimstead is constructing the futureof Illinois. They laugh at each other and so create a fairly agreeablepresent. "

"Did you see Annabel?" Harry asked. 

"About sixty times a minute while I was there. So pretty you can't helplooking at her. She's coming down to visit Ann, I hope. If you don't seeher every day she's here, I shall lose my good opinion of you. It will bea sure sign that your eyes don't know how, to enjoy themselves. "

"We shall all see her and fall in love with her, too, probably, " saidSarah. 

"She's made on the right pattern of the best material, " Abe went on. "She's full of fun and I thought it would be a great thing for Ann. Shehasn't had any one to play with of her own age and standing since Bimwent away. I was thinking of Harry, too. He needs somebody to play with. "

"Much obliged!" the young man exclaimed. "I was thinking that I'd have totake a trip to Hopedale, myself. "

"I knew he'd come around, " Sarah laughed. 

But all unknown to these good people, the divinities were at that momentvery busy. 

That was the 26th of May, 1835, a date of much importance in the calendarof the Traylors. It had been a clear, warm day, followed by a cloudless, starry night, with a chilly breeze blowing. Between eleven and twelveo'clock Sarah and Samson were awakened by the hoot of an owl in thedooryard. In a moment they heard three taps on a window-pane. They knewwhat it meant. Both got out of bed and into their clothes as quickly aspossible. Samson lighted a candle and put some wood on the fire. Then heopened the door with the candle in his hand. A stalwart, good-lookingmulatto man, with a smooth shaven face, stood in the doorway. 

"Is the coast clear?" he whispered. 

"All clear, " Samson answered, in a low tone. 

"I'll be back in a minute, " said the negro, as he disappeared in thedarkness, returning presently with two women, both very black. They satdown in the dim light of the cabin. 

"Are you hungry?" Sarah asked. 

"We have had only a little bread and butter to-day, madame, " said themulatto, whose speech and manners were like those of an educated whiteman of the South. 

"I'll get you something, " said Sarah, as she opened the cupboard. 

"I think we had better not stop to eat now, madame, " said the negro. "Wewill be followed and they may reach here any minute. "

Harry, who had been awakened by the arrival of the strangers, came downthe ladder. 

"These are fugitive slaves on their way north, " said Samson. "Take themout to the stack. I'll bring some food in a few minutes. "

Harry conducted them to their hiding-place, and when they had entered it, he brought a ladder and opened the top of the stack. A hooped shaft inthe middle of it led to a point near its top and provided ventilation. Then he crawled in at the entrance, through which Samson passed a pailof food, a jug of water and some buffalo hides. Harry sat with them fora few moments in the black darkness of the stack room to learn whencethey had come and whither they wished to go. 

"We are from St. Louis, suh, " the mulatto answered. "We are on our way toCanada. Our next station is the house of John Peasley, in TazewellCounty. "

"Do you know a man of the name of Eliphalet Biggs who lives in St. Louis?" Harry asked. 

"Yes, suh; I see him often, suh, " the negro answered. 

"What kind of a man is he?"

"Good when he is sober, suh, but a brute when he is drunk. "

"Is he cruel to his wife?"

"He beats her with a whip, suh. "

"My God!" Harry exclaimed. "Why don't she leave him?"

"She has left him, suh. She is staying with a friend. It has been hardfor her to get away. She has been a slave, too. "

Harry's voice trembled with emotion when he answered:

"I am sure that none of her friends knew how she was being treated. "

"I suppose that she was hoping an' praying, suh, that he would change. "

"I think that one of us will take you to Peasley's to-morrow night, " saidHarry. "Meanwhile I hope you get a good rest. "

With that he left them, filled the mouth of the cave with hay and wentinto the house. There he told his good friends of what he had heard. 

"I shall go down to St. Louis, " he said. "I read in the paper that therewas a boat Monday. "

"The first thing to do is to go to bed, " said Sarah. "There's not muchleft of the night. "

They went to bed, but the young man could not sleep. Bim had possessionof his heart again. In a kind of half sleep he got the notion that shewas sitting by his bedside and trying to comfort him. Then he thoughtthat he heard her singing in the sweet voice of old:

 "Come sit yourself down With me on the ground On this bank where the primroses grow. We will hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in the valleys below, As she sings in the valleys below. "

He roused himself and thought that he saw her form receding in thedarkness. 

Fortunately, the spring's work was finished and there was not much to bedone next day. Samson went to "Colonel" Lukins' cabin and arranged withhim and his wife to come and stay with Sarah and made other preparationsfor the journey to the north. Soon after nightfall they put their guestson a small load of hay, so that they could quickly cover themselves ifnecessary, and set out for Peasley's farm. As they rode along Samson hada frank talk with Harry. 

"I think you ought to get over being in love with Bim, " he said. 

"I've told myself that a dozen times, but it don't do any good, " said theboy. 

"She's another man's wife and you have no right to love her. "

"She's another man's slave, and I can't stand the thought of it, " Harryanswered. "If she was happy I could mind my business and get overthinking of her, by and by, maybe, but now she needs a friend, if sheever did, and I intend to do what I can for her. "

"Of course, we'll all do what we can for her, " said Samson. "But you mustget over being in love with a married woman. "

"If a man's sister were in such trouble, I think he'd have the right tohelp her, and she's more than a sister to me. "

"I'll stand with you on the sister platform, " said Samson. 

In the middle of the night they stopped by a stream of water to feed thehorses and take a bite of luncheon. The roads were heavy from recentrains and daylight came before they could make their destination. Atsunrise they stopped to give their horses a moment to rest. In thedistance they could see Brimstead's house and the harrowed fields aroundit. The women were lying covered by the hay; the man was sitting up andlooking back down the road. 

"They're coming, " he exclaimed, suddenly, as he got under the hay. 

Samson and Harry could see horsemen following at a gallop half a mile orso down the road. It looked like trouble, for at that hour men were notlikely to be abroad in the saddle and riding fast on any usual errand. Our friends hurried their team and got to Brimstead's door ahead of thehorsemen. A grove of trees screened the wagon from the view of the latterfor a moment. Henry Brimstead stood in the open door. 

"Take these slaves into the house and get them out of sight as quick asyou can, " said Samson. "There's going to be a quarrel here in a minute. "

The slaves slid off the load and ran into the house. 

This was all accomplished in a few seconds. The team started on towardPeasley's farm as if nothing had happened, with Harry and Samson standingon the load. In a moment they saw, to their astonishment, Biggs and acolored servant coming at a slow trot. Were the slaves they carried theproperty of Biggs?

"Stop that wagon, " the latter shouted. 

Samson kept on, turning out a little to let them pass. 

"Stop or we'll shoot your horses, " Biggs demanded. 

"They'll have to pass close to the load, " Harry whispered. "I'll jump onbehind Biggs as he goes by. "

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Harry sprang off the load, catching Biggs's shoulders and landing squarely on the rump of his horse. It was a rough minute that followed. The horse leaped and reared andBiggs lost his seat, and he and Harry rolled to the ground and into afence corner, while the horse ran up the road, with the pistols in theirholsters on his back. They rose and fought until Harry, being quicker andstronger, got the best of it. The slaver was severely punished. Thenegro's horse, frightened by the first move in the fracas, had turned andrun back down the road. 

Biggs swore bitterly at the two Yankees. 

"I'll have you dirty suckers arrested if there's any law in this state, "he declared, as he stood leaning against the fence, with an eye badlyswollen and blood streaming from his nose. 

"I suppose you can do it, " said Samson. "But first let's see if we canfind your horse. I think I saw him turn in at the house above. "

Samson drove the team, while Biggs and Harry walked up the road insilence. The negro followed in the saddle. Peasley had caught Biggs'shorse and was standing at the roadside. 

"I want to find a Justice of the Peace, " said Biggs. 

"There's one at the next house above. I'll send my boy for him, " Peasleyanswered. 

The Justice arrived in a few minutes and Biggs lodged a complaint foundedon the allegation that his slaves were concealed in the hay on Samson'swagon. The hay was removed and no slaves were discovered. 

"I suppose they left my niggers at the house below, " said Biggs as hemounted his horse and, with his companion, started at a gallop in thedirection of Brimstead's. Samson remained with Peasley and the Justice. 

"You had better go down and see what happens, " he said to Harry. "We'llfollow you in a few minutes. "

So Harry walked down to Brimstead's. 

He found the square house in a condition of panic. Biggs and his helperhad discovered the mulatto and his wife hiding in the barn. The negroesand the children were crying. Mrs. Brimstead met Harry outside the door. 

"What are we to do?" she asked, tearfully. 

"Just keep cool, " said Harry. "Father Traylor and Mr. Peasley will behere soon. "

Biggs and his companion came out of the door with Brimstead. 

"We will take the niggers to the river and put them on a boat, " Biggs wassaying. 

His face and shirt and bosom were smeared with blood. He asked Mrs. Brimstead for a basin of water and a towel. The good woman took him tothe washstand and supplied his needs. 

In a few moments Samson and Peasley arrived, with the latter's teamhitched to a Conestoga wagon. 

"Well, you've found them, have you?" Peasley asked. 

"They were here, as I thought, " said Biggs. 

"Well, the Justice says we must surrender the negroes and take them tothe nearest landing for you. We've come to do it. "

"It's better treatment than I expected, " Biggs answered. 

"You'll find that we have a good deal of respect for the law, " saidPeasley. 

Biggs and his friend went to the barn for their horses. The othersconferred a moment with the two slaves and Mrs. Brimstead. Then thelatter went out into the garden lot to a woman in a sunbonnet who wasworking with a hoe some fifteen rods from the house. Mrs. Brimsteadseemed to be conveying a message to the woman by signs. Evidently thelatter was deaf and dumb. 

"That is the third slave, " Brimstead whispered. "I don't believe they'lldiscover her. "

Soon Peasley and Samson got into the wagon with the negroes and droveaway, followed by the two horsemen. 

In a little village on the river they stopped at a low frame house. A woman came to the door. 

"Is Freeman Collar here?" Peasley demanded. 

"He is back in the garden, " the woman answered. 

"Please ask him to come here. "

In a moment Collar came around the house with a hoe on his shoulder. Hewas a slim, sandy bearded, long-haired man of medium height, with keengray eyes. 

"Good morning, Mr. Constable, " said Peasley. "This is Eliphalet Biggs ofSt. Louis, and here is a warrant for his arrest. "

He passed a paper to the officer. 

"For my arrest!" Biggs exclaimed. "What is the charge?"

"That you hired a number of men to burn the house of Samson HenryTraylor, near the village of New Salem, in Sangamon County, and, byviolence, to compel him to leave said county; that, on the 29th ofAugust, said men--the same being eight in number--attempted to carry outyour design and, being captured and overpowered, all confessed theirguilt and your connection with it, their sworn confessions being now inthe possession of one Stephen Nuckles, a minister of this county. I donot need to remind you that it is a grave offense and likely to lead toyour confinement for a term of years. "

"Well, by G--, " Biggs shouted, in anger. "You suckers will have sometraveling to do before you arrest me. "

He struck the spurs in his horse and galloped away, followed by hisservant. Samson roared with laughter. 

"Now, Collar, get on your horse and hurry 'em along, but don't ketch upwith 'em if you can help it, " said Peasley. "We've got them on the runnow. They'll take to the woods an' be darn careful to keep out of sight. "

When the Constable had gone, Peasley said to Samson: "We'll drop theseslaves at Nate Haskell's door. He'll take care of 'em until dark andstart 'em on the north road. Late in the evening I'll pick 'em up an'get 'em out o' this part o' the country. "

Meanwhile Brimstead and Harry had stood for a moment in the dooryard ofthe former, watching the party on its way up the road. Brimstead blew outhis breath and said in a low tone:

"Say, I'll tell ye, I ain't had so much excitement since Samson Traylorrode into Flea Valley. The women need a chance to wash their faces andslick up a little. Le's you and me go back to the creek and go inswimmin' an' look the farm over. "

"What become of the third nigger?" Harry asked. 

"She went out in the field in a sunbonnet an' went to work with a hoe andthey didn't discover her, " said Brimstead. 

"It must have been a nigger that didn't belong to him, " Harry declared. 

"I guess it was one that the others picked up on the road. "

They set out across the sown fields, while Brimstead, in his mostdivulging mood, confided many secrets to the young man. Suddenly heasked:

"Say, did you take partic'lar notice o' that yaller nigger?"

"I didn't see much of him. "

"Well, I'll tell ye, he was about as handsome a feller as you'd see ina day's travel--straight as an arrow and about six feet tall and wellspoken and clean faced. He told me that another master had taught him toread and write and cipher. He's read the Bible through, and many of thepoems of Scott and Byron and Burns. Don't it rile ye up to think of a manlike that bein' bought and sold and pounded around like a steer? It ain'tdecent. "

"It's king work; it isn't democracy, " Harry answered. "We've got to putan end to it. "

"Say, who's that?" Brimstead asked, as he pointed to a pair of horsemenhurrying down the distant road. 

"It's Biggs and his servant, " Harry answered. 

"Whew! They ain't lettin' the grass grow under their feet. They'll killthem horses. "

"Biggs is a born killer. I'd like to give him one more licking. "

In a moment they saw another horseman a quarter of a mile behind theothers and riding fast. 

"Ha, ha! That explains their haste, " said Brimstead. "It's ol' FreeCollar on his sorrel mare. Say, I'll tell ye, " Brimstead came close toHarry and added in a low tone: "If Biggs tries any fightin' businesswith Collar he'll git killed sure. That man loves excitement. He don'ttake no nonsense at all, and he can put a bullet into a gimlet hole atten rods. "

They had their swim in the creek and got back to the house at dinnertime. Samson had returned and, as they sat down at the table, he toldwhat had happened at the Constable's house and learned of the passingof Biggs and his friend in the road, followed by Collar on his sorrelmare. 

"We must hurry back, but we will have to give the horses a rest, " saidSamson. 

"And the young people a chance to play checkers?" said Mrs. Brimstead. 

"I have no heart for play, " said Annabel, with a sigh. 

"The excitement and the sight o' those poor slaves have taken all the funout of her, " the woman remarked. 

Then Harry asked: "What have you done with the third slave?"

"She's been up-stairs, getting washed and dressed, " said Mrs. Brimstead. 

As she spoke, the stairway door opened and Bim entered the room--in asilk gown and slippers. Sorrow had put its mark upon her face, but hadnot extinguished her beauty. All rose from the table. Harry walked towardher. She advanced to meet him. Face to face, they stopped and looked intoeach other's eyes. The moment long desired, the moment endeared andsublimated by the dreams of both, the moment toward which their thoughtshad been wont to hasten, after the cares of the day, like brooks comingdown from the mountains, had arrived suddenly. She was in a way preparedfor it. She had taken thought of what she would do and say. He had not. Still it made no difference. This little point of time had been so filledwith the power which had flowed into it out of their souls there was noforetelling what they would do when it touched them. Scarcely a second ofthat moment was wasted in hesitation, as a matter of fact. Quickly theyfell into each other's embrace, and the depth of their feeling we mayguess when we read in the diary of the rugged and rather stoical Samsonthat no witness of the scene spoke or moved "until I turned my back uponit for shame of my tears. "

Soon Bim came and kissed Samson's cheek and said:

"I am not going to make trouble. I couldn't help this. I heard what hesaid to you last night. It made me happy in spite of all my troubles. Ilove him but above all I shall try to keep his heart as clean and nobleas it has always been. I really meant to be very strong and upright. Itis all over now. Forgive us. We are going to be as respectable as--as wecan. "

Samson pressed her hand and said:

"You came with the slaves and I guess you heard our talk in the wagon. "

"Yes, I came with the slaves, and was as black as either of them. Wehad all suffered. I should have come alone, but they had been good andfaithful to me. I could not bear to leave them to endure the violence ofthat man. We left together one night when he was in a drunken stupor. Wetook a boat to Alton and caught The Star of the North to Beardstown--theytraveling as my servants. There I hired a team and wagon. It brought usto the grove near your house. "

"Why did you disguise yourself before you came in?"

"I longed to see Harry, but I did not want him to see me. I did not knowthat he would care to see me, " she answered. "I longed to see all ofyou. "

"Isn't that like Bim?" Samson asked. 

"I am no longer the fool I was, " she answered. "It was not just aromantic notion. I wanted to share the lot of a runaway slave for a fewdays and know what it means. That mulatto--Roger Wentworth--and hiswife are as good as I am, but I have seen them kicked and beaten likedogs. I know slavery now and all the days of my life I am going to fightagainst it. Now I am ready to go to my father's house--like the ProdigalSon coming back after his folly. "

"But you will have some dinner first, " said Mrs. Brimstead. 

"No, I can not wait--I will walk. It is not far to Hopedale. "

"Percy is at the door now with his buggy, " said Brimstead. 

Bim kissed Samson's cheek and embraced Annabel and her mother and hurriedout of the house. Harry carried her bag to the buggy and helped her in. 

"Harry, I want you to fall in love with this pretty girl, " she said. "Don't you dare think of me any more or come near me. If you do, I'llshoo you away. Go on, Percy. "

She waved her hand as the buggy went up the road. 

"It's the same old Bim, " Harry said to himself, as he stood watching her. "But I think she's lovelier than she ever was. "

The next day Samson wrote in his diary:

 * * * * *

"Bim was handsomer, but different. She had a woman's beauty. I noticedher loose clothes and that gentle look in her face that used to come toSarah's when her time was about half over. I am glad she got away beforeshe was further along. "

CHAPTER XV

WHEREIN HARRY AND ABE RIDE UP TO SPRINGDALE AND VISIT KELSO'S AND LEARNOF THE CURIOUS LONESOMENESS OF ELIPHALET BIGGS. 

Illinois was growing. In June score of prairie schooners, loaded with oldand young, rattled over the plains from the East. There were many Yankeesfrom Ohio, New York and New England in this long caravan. There werealmost as many Irish, who had set out for this land of golden promise assoon as they had been able to save money for a team and wagon, afterreaching the new world. There were some Germans and Scandinavians in thedust clouds of the National Road. Steamers on the Illinois Riverscattered their living freight along its shores. These were largely fromKentucky, southern Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia. The call ofthe rich and kindly lands had traveled far and streams of life weremaking toward them, to flow with increasing speed and volume for manyyears. 

People in Sangamon County had begun to learn of the thriving village ofChicago in the North. Abe said that Illinois would be the Empire State ofthe West; that a new era of rapid development and great prosperity wasnear. Rumors of railroad and canal projects and river improvements wereon every tongue. Samson and Sarah took new heart of the prospect anddecided to try another year in New Salem, although an Irishman had made agood offer for their farm. Land was in great request and there were manytransfers of title. Abe had more surveying to do than he was able toaccomplish that summer. Harry was with him for some weeks. He could earntwo dollars a day with Abe, whereas Samson was able to hire a helper forhalf that sum. Harry made a confident of his friend, and when they wereworking at the northern end of the county they borrowed a pair of horsesand rode up to Kelso's house and spent a Sunday there. 

Bim met them down the road a mile or so from Hopedale. She, too, was onthe back of a horse. She recognized them before they were in hailingdistance and waved her hand and hurried toward them with a happy face. 

"Where are you going?" she asked. 

"To see you and your father and mother, " said Harry. 

A sad look came into her eyes. 

"If I had a stone I would throw it at you, " she said. 

"Why?" Harry asked. 

"Because I have to get used to being miserable, and just as I begin to beresigned to it, you come along and make me happy, and I have it all to doover again. "

The young man stopped his horse. 

"I hadn't thought of that, " he said, with a sad face. "It isn't fair toyou, is it? It's rather--selfish. "

"Why don't you go to Brimstead's, " Bim suggested. "A beautiful girl overthere is in love with you. Honestly, Harry, there isn't a sweeter girl inall the world. "

"I ought not to go there, either, " said the young man. 

"Why?"

"Because I mustn't let her think that I care for her. I'll go over toPeasley's and wait for Abe there. "

"Look here, " said the latter. "You both remind me of a man in a Kentuckyvillage who couldn't bear to hear a rooster crow. It kept him awakenights, for the roosters did a lot o' crowing down there. He moved fromone place to another, trying to find a cockless town. He couldn't. Therewas no such place in Kentucky. He thought of taking to the woods, but hehated loneliness more than he hated roosters. So he did a sensible thing. He started a chicken farm and got used to it. He found that a littlecrowing was too much, and that a lot of it was just what he needed. Youtwo have got to get used to each other. What you need is more crowing. Ifyou saw each other every day you wouldn't look so wonderful as when youdon't. "

"I reckon that's a good idea, " said Bim. "Come on, Harry, let's get usedto crowing. We'll start in to-day to fall out of love with each other. Wemust be very cold and distant and haughty and say every mean thing we canthink of. "

So it happened that Harry went on with Bim and Abe to the little house inHopedale. Jack Kelso sat reading in the shade of a tree by his door-step. 

"I hope you feel as good as you look, " Abe called, as they rode up. 

"I've been feeling like a fly in a drum, " Jack answered. "I've just hearda sermon by Peter Cartwright. "

"What do you think of him?"

"He is saturated in the statistics of vice. His Satan is too busy; hishell is too big, too hot and too durable. He is a kind of human oniondesigned to make women weep. "

Abe answered with a laugh:

"It is said that General Jackson went into his church one Sunday and thata deacon notified Mr. Cartwright of the presence of the great man. Theysay that the stern preacher exclaimed in a clearly audible tone: GeneralJackson! What does God care for General Jackson? If he don't repent, Godwill damn him as quick as he would damn a Guinea nigger. '"

"He's just that thumping, downright kind of a man, " Kelso remarked. "Howare you getting on with the books?"

"I have _Chitty on Contracts_ strapped to the pommel, " said Abe. "I didmy stint coming over, but I had to walk and lead the pony. "

"Every book you read gets a baptism of Democracy, " said Kelso. "An idlearistocracy of the shelves loafing in fine coats and immaculate linen isnot for the wise man. Your book has to roll up its sleeves and go to workand know the touch of the sweaty hand. Swift used to say that some mentreat books as they do Lords--learn their titles and then brag of havingbeen in their company. There are no Lords and Ladies among your books. They are just men and women made for human service. "

"I don't read long at once, " Abe remarked. "I scratch into a book, like ahen on a barn floor, until my crop is full, and then I digest what I havetaken. "

Harry and Bim had put out the horses. Now the girl came and sat on herfather's knee. Harry sat down by the side of Abe on the grass in theoak's shadow. 

"It is a joy to have the little girl back again, " said Kelso, as hetouched her hair with his hand. "It is still as yellow as a corn tassel. I wonder it isn't gray. "

"Her eyes look as bright as ever to-day, " said Harry. 

"No compliments, please. I want you to be downright mean, " Bim protested. 

Kelso looked up with a smile: "My boy, it was Leonardo da Vinci who saidthat a man could have neither a greater nor a less dominion than thatover himself. "

"What a cruel-looking villain he is!" Bim exclaimed, with a smile. "I wouldn't dare say what I think of him. "

"If you keep picking on me I'll cut loose and express my opinion of you, "he retorted. 

"Your opinions have ceased to be important, " she answered, with a look ofindifference. 

"I think this is a clear case of assault and flattery, " said Kelso. 

"It pains me to look at you, " Bim went on. 

"Wait until I learn to play the flute and the snare drum, " Harrythreatened. 

"I'm glad that New Salem is so far away, " she sighed. 

"I'll go and look at the new moon through a knot hole, " he laughed. 

"My dears, no more of this piping, " said Kelso. "Bim must tell us whatshe has learned of the great evil of slavery. It is most important thatAbe should hear it. "

Bim told of revolting scenes she had witnessed in St. Louis and NewOrleans--of flogging and buying and selling and herding. It was a painfulstory, the like of which had been traveling over the prairies of Illinoisfor years. Some had accepted these reports; many, among whom were themost judicious men, had thought they detected in them the note of grossexaggeration. Here, at last, was a witness whose word it was impossiblefor those who knew her to doubt. Abe put many questions and looked verygrave when the testimony was all in. 

"If you have any doubt, " said Bim, "I ask you to look at that mark on myarm. It was made by the whip of Mr. Eliphalet Biggs. "

The young men looked with amazement at a scar some three or four incheslong on her forearm. 

"If he would do that to his wife, what treatment could you expect for hisniggers?" Bim asked. "There are many Biggses in the South. "

"What so vile as a cheap, rococo aristocracy--growing up in idleness, toonoble to be restrained, with every brutal passion broad blown as flush asMay?" Kelso growled. 

"Nothing is long sacred in the view of any aristocracy--not even God, "Abe answered. "They make a child's plaything of Him and soon cast Himaside. "

"But I hold that if our young men are to be trained to tyranny in a lotof little nigger kingdoms, our Democracy will die. "

Abe made no answer. He was always slow to commit himself. 

"The North is partly to blame for what has come, " said Samson. "I guessour Yankee captains brought over most of the niggers and sold them to theplanters of the South. "

"There was a demand for them, or those Yankee pirates wouldn't havebrought the niggers, " Harry answered. "Both seller and buyer werecommitting a crime. "

"They established a great wrong and now the South is pushing to extendand give it the sanction of law, " said Abe. "There is the point ofirritation and danger. "

"I hear that in the next Legislature an effort will be made to endorseslavery, " said Kelso. "It would be like endorsing Nero and Caligula. "

"It is a dangerous subject, " Abe answered. "Whatever happens, I shall notfail to express my opinion of slavery if I go back. "

"The time is coming when you will take the bull by the horns, " saidKelso. "There's no fence that will keep him at home. "

"I hope that isn't true, " Abe answered. 

Soon Mrs. Kelso called Bim to set the table. She and Harry brought it outunder the tree, where, in the cool shade, they had a merry dinner. 

When the dishes were put away Percy Brimstead arrived with his sisterAnnabel in their buggy. Bim went out to meet them and came into thedooryard with her arm around Annabel's waist. 

"Did any one ever see a lovelier girl than this?" Bim asked, as theystood up before the dinner party. 

"Her cheeks are like wild roses, her eyes like the dew on them when thesun is rising, " said Kelso. 

"But look at her mouth and the teeth in it the next time she smiles, " Bimwent on. 

"Aye, they are well wrought, " her father answered. 

"If you don't stop, I shall run, " Annabel protested. 

"I haven't said a word, but I want you to know that I am deeplyimpressed, " said Harry. "No girl has a right to be as handsome as you areand come and look into the face of a young man who has resolved to lookat the new moon through a knot bole. "

"Well, who would have thought it!" Bim exclaimed. "Such a wonderfulcompliment, and from Harry Needles!"

"Of course he didn't mean it, " said Annabel, whose cheeks were now veryred. 

"Of course I mean it, " Harry declared. "That's why I keep away from yourhouse. I am bound to stay single. "

"Did you ever see a fairy going to mill on a butterfly's back?" Bimasked, looking at Harry. 

"Not as I remember, " he answered. 

"If you had, you wouldn't expect us to believe it, " Bim asserted. 

"There was a soldier in Colonel Taylor's regiment who always ran when theenemy was in sight, " Abe began. "When he was brought up for discipline, he said 'My heart is as brave as Julius Cæsar's but my legs can't betrusted. ' I know Harry's legs are all right, but I don't believe hisheart can be trusted in a battle of this kind. "

"I've heard all about his brave adventures in the war, " said Bim. "He'llfind that girls are worse than Indians. "

"If they're as well armed as you two, I guess you're right, " said Samson. 

Abe rose and said: "The day is passing. I'll start on with Parsons andthe pony and read my stint afoot. You come along in a few minutes. By thetime you overtake me I'll be ready to get into the saddle. "

Half an hour or so after Abe had gone, Harry's horse, which had beenwhinnying for his mate, bounded out of the stable and went galloping downthe road, having slipped his halter. 

"He will not stop until he overtakes the other horse, " said Harry. 

"You can ride with us, " Annabel suggested. 

So the young man brought his saddle and bridle and put it under the seatof the buggy and got in with Annabel and her small brother. 

"Don't let us go too far, " said Bim, as she stood by the side of thebuggy. "You haven't offered to shake hands. "

"It was a deliberate slight--just to please you, " Harry answered, as theyshook hands. 

"You are behaving terribly well, " Bim exclaimed, merrily. "Now, Annabel, here is your chance to convert him. "

She laughed and shook her hand, as they rode away, and went into thehouse and sat down and for a time was like one whose heart is broken. 

"Oh, the troubles of the young!" her mother exclaimed, as she kissed her. 

"They are ever the wonder of the old!" said Kelso, who stood near. 

"I love him! I love him!" the girl moaned. 

"I don't wonder, " her father answered. "He is a big, brave, clean lad, and handsome as a Greek god. He will love you all the better for yourself-restraint. It makes me proud of you, my daughter--proud of you! Beof good cheer. The day of your emancipation may not be long delayed. "

Some two miles down the road Harry found Abe standing between the horses, holding the runaway by his forelock. The latter was saddled and bridled, while the buggy went on ahead. 

"That is a wonderful girl, " said Harry, as he and Abe were riding alongtogether. "She is very modest and gentle hearted. "

"And as pleasant to look at as the flowery meadows, " Abe answered. 

"I have promised to stop there a few minutes on our way back. "

"It is possible Bim could get a divorce, " said Abe, looking downthoughtfully at the mane of his horse. "I'll ask Stuart what he thinksabout it when I see him again. "

"I hope you'll see him soon. "

"As soon as I can get to Springfield. "

Brimstead and Abe had a talk together, while Harry went into the house. 

"Say, there's a good many kinds o' trouble, " said the former, in a lowtone, "but one o' the worst is skunks. Say, I'll tell ye, there's afeller lives over in the woods a few miles from here that had a skunk ina pen. His name is Hinge. Somebody had been stealin' his grain, so theother night he hitched that skunk right under the barn door. The thiefcame and the skunk punished him tolerable severe. The next day FreeCollar, the famous Constable, was comin' up the road from Sangamon Countyand met that man Biggs on a horse. Say--"

Brimstead looked about him and stepped close to Abe and added in a toneof extreme confidence: "Biggs had left a streak behind him a mile long. Its home was Biggs. It had settled down and gone into business on him andwas doin' well and gettin' a reputation. Collar coughed and backed away. For four days he had been chasin' that man to arrest him. Biggs had beenhid in the woods near Hinge's cabin an' had stole grain for his horses. 

"'Here I am, ' said Biggs. 'You can have me. I'm lonesome. '

"'You'll be lonesomer 'fore I go near ye, ' says Collar. 

"'I thought you wanted to arrest me, ' says Biggs. 

"'Say, man, I'd 'a' been glad to see you go to prison for a year or two, but now I'm plum sorry for ye, ' says Collar. 'A constable who wouldn'trun if he smelt you comin' would be a durn fool. '

"They started in opposite directions. In half a minute the Constablehollered to Biggs:

"'Say, they've got a railroad train on a track over in Ohio, but theycan't make it run. I wouldn't wonder if you could help 'em. '"

Brimstead added in a half whisper:

"Biggs went on, but the poor devil is livin' a God lonesome life. Hecan't sleep in a buildin' an' his food'll have to be throwed to him. It'sa new way to defeat justice. "

Abe's laughter was like the neigh of a horse. It brought Harry out of thehouse. He mounted his pony and, as they rode away, Abe told him of thefate of Biggs. 

"I don't believe he'll take another Illinois girl away with him, " Abelaughed. 

"Talk about the chains of bondage! He's buried in 'em, " Harry exclaimed. 

In a moment he said: "That lovely girl gave me a necktie and a pair ofgloves that she has knit with her own hands. I'll never forget the wayshe did it and the look of her. It rather touched my heart. "

"She's as innocent as a child, " said Abe. "It's hard on a girl like thatto have to live in this new country. Her father and mother have promisedto let her come for a visit with Ann. I'll go up next Saturday and takeher down to New Salem with me. "

This kindly plan of Abe's--so full of pleasant possibilities--fell intohopeless ruin next day, when a letter came from Dr. Allen, telling himthat Ann was far gone with a dangerous fever. Both Abe and Harry droppedtheir work and went home. Ann was too sick to see her lover. 

The little village was very quiet those hot summer days. The sorrow ofthe pretty maiden had touched the hearts of the simple kindly folk wholived there. They would have helped her bear it--if that had beenpossible--as readily as they would have helped at a raising. For a yearor more there had been a tender note in their voices when they spoke ofAnn. They had learned with great gladness of her engagement to marry Abe. The whole community were as one family with its favorite daughter aboutto be crowned with good fortune greater than she knew. Now that she wasstricken down, their feeling was more than sympathy. The love of justice, the desire to see a great wrong righted, in a measure, was in theirhearts when they sought news of the little sufferer at the tavern. 

There was no shouting in the street, no story-telling in the dooryards, no jesting in the stores and houses, no merry parties, gladdened by thenotes of the violin, in the days and nights of Ann's long illness. 

Samson writes in his diary that Abe went about like a man in a dream, with no heart for work or study. He spent much time at the Doctor'soffice, feeling for some straw of hope. 

One day late in August, as he stood talking with Samson Traylor in thestreet, Dr. Allen called him from his door-step. Abe turned very pale ashe obeyed the summons. 

"I've just come from her bedside, " said Dr. Allen. "She wants to see you. I've talked it over with her parents, and we've decided to let you andher have a little visit together. You must be prepared for a great changein Ann. There's not much left of the poor girl. A breath would blow heraway. But she wants to see you. It may be better than medicine. Whoknows?"

The two men went across to the tavern. Mrs. Rutledge and Abe tiptoed upthe stairway. The latter entered the room of the sick girl. The womanclosed the door. Ann Rutledge was alone with her lover. There were nonewho knew what happened in that solemn hour save the two--one of whom wason the edge of eternity, and the other was never to speak of it. The onlyrecord of that hour is to be found in the face and spirit of a great man. 

Years later Samson wrote in a letter. 

 * * * * *

"I saw Abe when he came out of the tavern that day. He was not the Abe wehad all known. He was different. There were new lines in his face. It wassorrowful. His steps were slow. He had passed out of his young manhood. When I spoke to him, he answered with that gentle dignity now so familiarto all who know him. From that hour he was Abraham Lincoln. "

 * * * * *

Ann passed away before the month ended and became, like many of her kind, an imperishable memory. In her presence the spirit of the young man hadreceived such a baptism that henceforward, taking thought of her, he wasto love purity and all cleanness, and no Mary who came to his feet withtears and ointment was ever to be turned away. 

CHAPTER XVI

WHEREIN YOUNG MR. LINCOLN SAFELY PASSES TWO GREAT DANGER POINTS AND TURNSINTO THE HIGHWAY OF HIS MANHOOD. 

For days thereafter the people of New Salem were sorely troubled. AbeLincoln, the ready helper in time of need, the wise counselor, the friendof all--"old and young, dogs and horses, " as Samson was wont to say--thepride and hope of the little cabin village, was breaking down under hisgrief. He seemed to care no more for work or study or friendship. Hewandered out in the woods and upon the prairies alone. Many feared thathe would lose his reason. 

There was a wise and merry-hearted man who lived a mile or so from thevillage. His name was Bowlin Green. Every one on Salem Hill and in thecountry round about it laid claim to the friendship of this remarkableman. Those days when one of middle age had established himself in theaffections of a community, its members had a way of adopting him. SoMr. Green had been adopted into many families from Beardstown toSpringfield. He was everybody's "Uncle Bowlin. " He had a most unusualcircumference and the strength to carry it. He was indeed a man ofextended boundaries, embracing noble gifts, the best of which was goodnature. His jests, his loud laughter and his quaking circumference werethe three outstanding factors in his popularity. The loss of either wouldhave been a misfortune to himself and neighbors. His ruddy cheeks andcurling locks and kindly dark eyes and large head were details ofimportance. Under all were a heart with the love of men, a mind ofunusual understanding and a hand skilled in all the arts of the Kentuckypioneer. He could grill a venison steak and roast a grouse and broil achicken in a way which had filled the countryside with fond recollectionsof his hospitality; he could kindle a fire with a bow and string, a pinestick and some shavings; he could make anything from a splint broom toa rocking horse with his jack-knife. Abe Lincoln was one of the many menwho knew and loved him. 

On a warm, bright afternoon early in September, Bowlin Green was goingaround the pasture to put his fence in repair, when he came upon youngMr. Lincoln. The latter sat in the shade of a tree on the hillside. Helooked "terribly peaked, " as Uncle Bowlin, has said in a letter. 

"Why, Abe, where have you been?" he asked. "The whole village is scared. Samson Traylor was here last night lookin' for ye. "

"I'm like a deer that's been hurt, " said the young man. "I took to thewoods. Wanted to be alone. You see, I had a lot of thinking to do--thekind of thinking that every man must do for himself. I've got the brushcleared away, at last, so I can see through. I had made up my mind to godown to your house for the night and was trying to decide whether I haveenergy enough to do it. "

"Come on; it's only a short step, " urged the big-hearted Bowlin. "Thewife and babies are over to Beardstown. We'll have the whole place toourselves. The feather beds are ladder high. I've got a haunch of venisonburied in the hide and some prairie chickens that I killed yesterday, and, besides, I'm lonesome. "

"What I feel the need of, just now, is a week or two of sleep, " said Mr. Lincoln, as he rose and started down the long hill with his friend. 

Some time later Bowlin Green gave Samson this brief account of whathappened in and about the cabin:

"He wouldn't eat anything. He wanted to go down to the river for a dip, and I went with him. When we got back, I induced him to take off hisclothes and get into bed. He was fast asleep in ten minutes. When nightcame I went up the ladder to bed. He was still asleep when I came down inthe morning. I went out and did my chores. Then I cut two venison steaks, each about the size o' my hand, and a half moon of bacon. I pounded thevenison to pulp with a little salt and bacon mixed in. I put it on thebroiler and over a bed o' hickory coals. I got the coffee into the potand up next to the fire and some potatoes in the ashes. I basted a birdwith bacon strips and put it into the roaster and set it back o' thebroiling bed. Then I made some biscuits and put 'em into the oven. I tellyou, in a little while the smell o' that fireplace would have 'woke thedead--honest! Abe began to stir. In a minute I heard him call:

"'Say, Uncle Bowlin, I'm goin' to get up an' eat you out o' house andhome. I'm hungry and I feel like a new man. What time is it?'

"'It'll be nine o'clock by the time you're washed and dressed, ' I says. 

"'Well, I declare, ' says he, 'I've had about sixteen hours o' solidsleep. The world looks better to me this morning. '

"He hurried into his clothes and we sat down at the table with the steakand the chicken and some wild grape jelly and baked potatoes, with newbutter and toffee and cream and hot biscuit and clover honey, and say, weboth et till we was ashamed of it. 

"At the table I told him a story and got a little laugh out of him. Hestayed with me three weeks, choring around the place and taking it easy. He read all the books I had, until you and Doc Allen came with the lawbooks. Then he pitched into them. I think he has changed a good dealsince Ann died. He talks a lot about God and the hereafter. "

In October young Mr. Lincoln returned to his surveying, and in the lastmonth of the year to Vandalia for an extra session of the Legislature, where he took a stand against the convention system of nominatingcandidates for public office. Samson went to Vandalia for a visit withhim and to see the place before the session ended. The next year, in aletter to his brother, he says:

"Vandalia is a small, crude village. It has a strong flavor of whisky, profanity and tobacco. The night after I got there I went to a banquetwith Abe Lincoln. Heard a lot about the dam nigger-loving Yankees whowere trying to ruin the state and country with abolition. There were somestories like those we used to hear in the lumber camp, and no end ofpowerful talk, in which the names of God and the Savior were roughlyhandled. A few of the statesmen got drunk, and after the dinner was overtwo of them jumped on the table and danced down the whole length of it, shattering plates and cups and saucers and glasses. Nobody seemed to beable to stop them. I hear that they had to pay several hundred dollarsfor the damage done. You will be apt to think that there is too muchliberty here in the West, and perhaps that is so, but the fact is thesemen are not half so bad as they seem to be. Lincoln tells me that theyare honest almost to a man and sincerely devoted to the public good asthey see it. I asked Abe Lincoln, who all his life has associated withrough tongued, drinking men, how he had managed to hold his own courseand keep his talk and habits so clean. 

"'Why, the fact is, ' said he, 'I have associated with the people wholived around me only part of the time, but I have never stoppedassociating with myself and with Washington and Clay and Webster andShakespeare and Burns and DeFoe and Scott and Blackstone and Parsons. Onthe whole, I've been in pretty good company. '

"He has not yet accomplished much in the Legislature. I don't think thathe will until some big issue comes along. 'I'm not much of a hand athunting squirrels, ' he said to me the other day. 'Wait till I see abear. ' The people of Vandalia and Springfield have never seen him yet. They don't know him as I do. But they all respect him--just for his goodfellowship, honesty and decency. I guess that every fellow with a foulmouth hates himself for it and envies the man who isn't like him. Theybegin to see his skill as a politician, which has shown itself in thepassage of a bill removing the capitol to Springfield. Abe Lincoln wasthe man who put it through. But he has not yet uncovered his besttalents. Mark my word, some day Lincoln will be a big man. 

"The death of his sweetheart has aged and sobered him. When we aretogether he often sits looking down with a sad face. For a while not aword out of him. Suddenly he will begin saying things, the effect ofwhich will go with me to my grave, although I can not call back the wordsand place them as he did. He is what I would call a great Captain ofwords. Seems as if I heard the band playing while they march by me aswell dressed and stepping as proud and regular as The Boston Guards. Insome great battle between Right and Wrong you will hear from him. I hopeit may be the battle between Slavery and Freedom, although at present hethinks they must avoid coming to a clinch. In my opinion, it can not bedone. I expect to live to see the fight and to take part in it. "

Late in the session of 1836-1837 the prophetic truth of these words beganto reveal itself. A bill was being put through the Legislature denouncingthe growth of abolition sentiment and its activity in organized societiesand upholding the right of property in slaves. 

Suddenly Lincoln had come to a fork in the road. Popularity, the urge ofmany friends, the counsel of Wealth and Power, and Public Opinion, thecall of good politics pointed in one direction and the crowd went thatway. It was a stampede. Lincoln stood alone at the corner. The crowdbeckoned, but in vain. One man came back and joined him. It was DanStone, who was not a candidate for re-election. His political career wasended. There were three words on the sign-board pointing toward theperilous and lonely road that Lincoln proposed to follow. They were thewords Justice and Human Rights. Lincoln and Dan Stone took that road in aprotest, declaring that they "believed the institution of slavery wasfounded upon injustice and bad policy. " Lincoln had followed hisconscience, instead of the crowd. At twenty-eight years of age he hadsafely passed the great danger point in his career. The declarationat Decatur, the speeches against Douglas, the miracle of turning4, 000, 000 beasts into 4, 000, 000 men, the sublime utterance at Gettysburg, the wise parables, the second inaugural, the innumerable acts of mercy, all of which lifted him into undying fame, were now possible. Henceforthhe was to go forward with the growing approval of his own spirit and thefavor of God. 

BOOK THREE

CHAPTER XVII

WHEREIN YOUNG MR. LINCOLN BETRAYS IGNORANCE OF TWO HIGHLY IMPORTANTSUBJECTS, IN CONSEQUENCE OF WHICH HE BEGINS TO SUFFER SERIOUSEMBARRASSMENT. 

There were two subjects of which Mr. Lincoln had little understanding. They were women and finance. Up to this time his tall, awkward, ill cladfigure had been a source of amusement to those unacquainted with hisadmirable spirit. Until they had rightly appraised the value of hisfriendship, women had been wont to regard him with a riant curiosity. Hehad been aware of this, and for years had avoided women, save those ofold acquaintance. When he lived at the tavern in the village often he hadgone without a meal rather than expose himself to the eyes of strangewomen. The reason for this was well understood by those who knew him. Theyoung man was an exceedingly sensitive human being. No doubt he hadsuffered more than any one knew from ill concealed ridicule, but he hadbeen able to bear it with composure in his callow youth. Later nothingroused his anger like an attempt to ridicule him. No man who came in hisway in after life was so quickly and completely floored as one GeorgeForquer, who, in a moment of folly, had attempted to make light of him. 

Two women he had regarded with great tenderness--his foster mother, thesecond wife of Thomas Lincoln, and Ann Rutledge. Others had been to him, mostly, delightful but inscrutable beings. The company of women and ofdollars had been equally unfamiliar to him. He had said more than once inhis young manhood that he felt embarrassed in the presence of either, andknew not quite how to behave himself--an exaggeration in which there wasno small amount of truth. 

In 1836 the middle frontier had entered upon a singular phase of itsdevelopment. Emigrants from the East and South and from overseas had beenpouring into it. The summer before the lake and river steamers had beencrowded with them, and their wagons had come in long processions out ofthe East Chicago had begun its phenomenal growth. A frenzied speculationin town lots had been under way in that community since the autumn of'35. It was spreading through the state. Imaginary cities were laid outor the lonely prairies and all the corner lots sold to eager buyers andpaid for with promises. Fortunes of imaginary wealth were created bysales of future greatness. Millions of conversational, promissorydollars, based upon the gold at the foot of the rainbow, were changinghands day by day. The Legislature, with an empty treasury behind it, voted twelve millions for river improvements and imaginary railroads andcanals, for which neither surveys nor estimates had been made, to servethe dream-built cities of the speculator. If Mr. Lincoln had had moreexperience in the getting and use of dollars and more acquaintance withthe shrinking timidity of large sums, he would have tried to dissipatethese illusions of grandeur. But he went with the crowd, every member ofwhich had a like inexperience. 

In the midst of the session Samson Traylor arrived in Vandalia on hisvisit to Mr. Lincoln. 

"I have sold my farm, " said Samson to his old friend the evening of hisarrival. 

"Did you get a good price?" Mr. Lincoln asked. 

"All that my conscience would allow me to take, " said Samson. "The manoffered me three dollars an acre in cash and ten dollars in notes. Wecompromised on seven dollars, all cash. "

"It's a mistake to sell now. The river is going to be deepened andimproved for navigation. "

"I've made up my mind that it can't be done, unless you can invent a wayto run a steamboat on moist ground, " said Samson. "You might as well tryto make a great man out of 'Colonel Lukins. ' It hasn't the water-shed. To dig a deep channel for the Sangamon would be like sending 'ColonelLukins' to Harvard. We're going too fast. We have little to sell yet butland. The people are coming to us in great numbers, but most of them arepoor. We must give them time to settle down and create something andincrease the wealth of the state. Then we shall have a solid base tobuild upon; then we shall have the confidence of the capital we requirefor improvements. Now I fear that we are building on the sands. "

"Don't you think that our bonds would sell in the East?"

"No; because we have only used our lungs in all these plans of ours. Noone has carefully considered the cost. For all we know, it may cost morethan the entire wealth of the state to put through the improvementsalready planned. The eastern capitalists will want to know about costsand security. Undoubtedly Illinois is sure to be a great state. Butwe're all looking at the day of greatness through a telescope. It seemsto be very near. It isn't. It's at least ten years in the future. "

Young Mr. Lincoln looked very grave for a moment. Then he laughed andsaid: "I don't know but we're all a lot of fools. I begin to suspectmyself. The subject of finance is new to me. I don't know much aboutit, but I'm sure if I were to say what you have said, in the House ofRepresentatives, they would throw me out-of-doors. "

"Just at present the House is a kind of insane asylum, " said Samson. "You'll have to stick to the procession now. The road is so crowded thatnobody can turn around. The folly of the state is so unanimous no onewill be more to blame than another when the crash comes. You have meantwell, anyhow. "

"You make me feel young and inexperienced. "

"You are generally wise, Abe, but there's one thing you don'tknow--that's the use of capital. For two years Sarah and I havebeen studying the subject of finance. "

"I've seen too little of you in the last year or so, " said the youngstatesman. "What are you going to do now that you have sold out?"

"I was thinking of going up to Tazewell County. "

"Why don't you go to the growing and prosperous town of Springfield, " Mr. Lincoln asked. "The capitol will be there, and so will I. It is going tobe a big city. Men who are to make history will live in Springfield. You must come and help. The state will need a man of your good sense. Itwould be a great comfort to me to have you and Sarah and Harry and thechildren near me. I shall need your friendship, your wisdom and yoursympathy. I shall want to sit often by your fireside. You'll find a goodschool there for the children. If you'll think of it seriously, I'll tryto get you into the public service. "

"We need you plenty, " Samson answered. "We kind o' think o' you as one o'the family. I'll talk it over with Sarah and see. Never mind the job. IfI keep you behavin' yourself, it'll be job enough. Anyway, I guess we canmanage to get along. Sarah's uncle in Boston died last month and left hera little money. If we can get what we have well invested, all I shallneed will be a few acres and a few tools and some friends to swap storieswith. "

"I've had a talk with Stuart and have some good news for Harry and Bim, "said young Mr. Lincoln. "Stuart thinks she can get a divorce under thelaw of 1827. I suppose they are still interested in each other. "

"He's like most of the Yankees. Once he gets set, it's hard to changehim. The Kelsos have moved to Chicago, and I don't know how Bim stands. If Harry knows, he hasn't said a word to us about it. "

"I'm interested in that little romance, " said the legislator. "It's ourduty to do what we can to secure the happiness of these young lovers. Wemustn't neglect that in the pressure of other things. They and theirfriends are dear to me. Tell Harry to come over here. I want to talk withhim. "

This dialogue was about the last incident in the visit of Samson Traylor. 

Late in the historic session of that spring, wherein the Whigs adoptedthe convention system of nominations and many plans were made for theexpenditure of visionary millions, young Mr. Lincoln received a letterfrom his friend, Mrs. Bennet Able of New Salem, which conveyed a shock tohis nerves. Before, he had gone to the session, Mrs. Able had said to himlightly:

"Abe, I'll ask my sister Mary to come up here for a visit if you'll agreeto marry her. "

"All right, " the young man had answered playfully. He remembered Mary. When he had left Kentucky, years before, Mary--a slender, sweet-facedgirl--had been one of those who bade him good-by. 

The letter had said among other things: "Mary has come, and now we expectyou to keep your word. "

No knight of old had a keener sense of chivalry than the young statesmanof Salem Hill. It was almost as Quixotic as the excesses at whichCervantes aimed his ridicule. An appalling fear took possession ofhim--a fear that Mrs. Able and the girl had taken him seriously. Itworried him. 

About this time Harry Needles arrived in Vandalia. The Legislature hadadjourned for a week-end. It was a warm, bright Saturday, early in March. The two friends went out for a stroll in the woods. 

"Have you seen Mrs. Able's sister, Mary Owens?" Abe Lincoln asked. 

"I've seen her often. "

"What kind of a girl is she?"

"A good kind, but-heavy. "

"Fat?"

"Massive and most of her front teeth gone. " Lincoln looked thoughtful. 

"You look as if she had stepped on your foot, " Harry remarked. 

"The fact is I'm engaged to her in a kind of a way. "

"Of course that's a joke. "

"You're right; it's a joke, but I'm afraid she and her sister have takenit seriously. A man must be careful of the heart of a young woman. Afterall, it isn't a thing to play with. As usual, when I try to talk withwomen, I make a fool of myself. "

"It would be easier to make a whistle out of a pig's tail than a fool outof you, " said Harry. "I have joked like that with Annabel and othergirls, but they knew that it was only fun. "

"Still true to your old love?"

"As firm as a nail driven in oak, " said Harry. "I seem to be built thatway. I shall never care much for any other girl. "

"Do you hear from Bim?"

"Once in a while I get a long, playful letter from her, full of thingsthat only Bim could write. "

"Stuart says she can get a divorce. We know the facts pretty well. If yousay so, we'll prepare the papers and you can take them up to Chicago andget them signed and attested. Stuart tells me that we can serve them byadvertising. "

"Good!" Harry exclaimed. "Get the papers ready as soon as you can andsend them up to me. When they come I'll mount that new pony of mine andstart for Chicago. If she won't have me, let her take a better man. "

"In my opinion Bim will want you, " said the legislator. "I'll be cominghome in a few days and will bring the papers with me. The session isabout over. If the rich men refuse to back our plans, there's going to bea crowd of busted statesmen in Illinois, and I'll be one of 'em. "

"Shall you spend the summer in New Salem?"

"I don't know yet what I shall do. First I must tackle the delicate taskof getting disengaged from Mary. "

"I shouldn't think it would take long, " said Harry, with a smile. 

"I can tell better after a preliminary survey. "

"No doubt Mrs. Able would like to have you marry her sister. She knowsthat you have a promising future ahead of you. But don't allow her tolook serious over that little joke. "

Abe Lincoln laughed and said: "Mary would be like the man who tradedhorses unsight and unseem and drew a saw horse. "

Harry returned to New Salem. After the session, young Mr. Lincoln went toSpringfield and did not reach New Salem until the first week of May. Whenhe arrived there, Mrs. Able met the stage from which he alighted andasked him to come to supper at her house that evening. Not a word wassaid of Mary in the excitement, about all the folk of the village havingassembled to meet and cheer the triumphant Captain of InternalImprovements. Abe Lincoln went to supper and met Mary, who had a cheerfulheart and good manners, and a schooled and active intellect, as well asthe defects which Harry had mentioned. She and the young statesman had apleasant visit together, recalling scenes and events which bothremembered from beyond the barrier of a dozen years. On the whole, he wasagreeably impressed. The neighbors came in after supper. Mrs. Able keptthe comedy moving along by a playful reference to the pseudo engagementof the young people. Mr. Lincoln laughed with the others and said that itreminded him a little of the boy who decided to be president and onlyneeded the consent of the United States. 

CHAPTER XVIII

IN WHICH MR. LINCOLN, SAMSON AND HARRY TAKE A LONG RIDE TOGETHER AND THELATTER VISIT THE FLOURISHING LITTLE CITY OF CHICAGO. 

Mr. Lincoln had brought the papers which Harry was to take to Bim, andmade haste to deliver them. The boy was eager to be off on his mission. The fields were sown. The new buyer was coming to take possession in twoweeks. Samson and Harry had finished their work in New Salem. 

"Wait till to-morrow and maybe I'll go with ye, " said Samson. "I'manxious to see the country clear up to the lake and take a look at thatlittle mushroom city of Chicago. "

"And buy a few corner lots?" Abe Lincoln asked, with a smile. 

"No; I'll wait till next year. They'll be cheaper then. I believe inChicago. It's placed right--on the waterway to the north and east, withgood country on three sides and transportation on the other. It can gointo partnership with Steam Power right away and begin to do business. Your grain and pork can go straight from there to Albany and New York andBoston and Baltimore without being rehandled. When railroads come--ifthey ever do--Steam Power will be shoving grain and meat and passengersinto Chicago from every point of the compass. "

Abe Lincoln turned to Sarah and said: "This is a growing country. Youought to see the cities springing up there in the Legislature. I waslooking with great satisfaction at the crop when Samson came along oneday and fell on it. He was like a frost in midsummer. "

"The seed was sown too early, " Samson rejoined. "You and I may live tosee all the dreams of Vandalia come true. "

"And all the nightmares, too, " said the young statesman. 

"Yes, we're going to wake up and find a cold morning and not much to eatin the house and the wolf at the door, but we'll live through it. "

Then the young statesman proposed: "If you are going with Harry, I'll goalong and see what they've done on the Illinois and Michigan Canal. Somecontractors who worked on the Erie Canal will start from Chicago Mondayto look the ground over and bid on the construction of the southern endof it. I want to talk with them when they come along down the line. "

"I guess a few days in the saddle would do you good, " said Samson. 

"I reckon it would. I've been cloyed on house air and oratory and futuregreatness. The prairie wind and your pessimism will straighten me up. "

Harry rode to the village that afternoon to get "Colonel" and Mrs. Lukinsto come out to the farm and stay with Sarah while he and Samson wereaway. Harry found the "Colonel" sitting comfortably in a chair by thedoor of his cabin, roaring with laughter. He had not lived up to histitle and was still generally known as "Bony" Lukins. 

"What are you roaring at?" Harry demanded. 

The "Colonel" was dumb with joy for a moment. Then, with an effort, hestraightened his face and managed to say: "Laughin' just 'cause I'malive. " The words were followed by a kind of spiritual explosion followedby a silent ague of merriment. It would seem that his brain haddiscovered in the human comedy some subtle and persuasive jest which hadgone over the heads of the crowd. Yet Harry seemed to catch it, for he, too, began to laugh with the fortunate "Colonel. "

"You see, " said the latter, as, with great difficulty, he restrainedhimself for half a moment, "this is my busy day. "

Again he roared and shook in a fit of ungovernable mirth. In the midst ofit Mrs. Lukins arrived. 

"Don't pay no 'tention to him, " she said. "The 'Colonel' is wearin'himself out restin'. He's kep' his head bobbin' all day like awoodpecker's. Jest laughs till he's sick every time he an' ol' John gitstogether. It's plum ridic'lous. "

The "Colonel" turned serious long enough to give him time to explain in aquivering, joyous tone: "0l' John, he just sets beside me and says thegol' darndest funniest things!"

He could get no further. His last words were blown out in a gale oflaughter. Mrs. Lukins had sat down with her knitting. 

"Ol' John Barleycorn will leave to-night, an' to-morrow the 'Colonel'will be the soberest critter in Illinois--kind o' lonesome like an'blubberin' to himself, " she explained. The faithful soul added in awhisper of confidence: "He's a good man. There don't nobody know how deepan' kind o' coralapus like he is. "

She now paused as if to count stitches. For a long time the word"coralapus" had been a prized possession of Mrs. Lukins. Like herfeathered bonnet, it was used only on special occasions by way of puttingher best foot forward. It was indeed a family ornament of the samegeneral character as her husband's title. Just how she came by it nobodycould tell, but of its general significance, as it fell from her lips;there could be no doubt whatever in any but the most obtuse intellect. For her it had a large and noble, although a rather indefinite meaning, entirely favorable to the person or the object to which it was applied. There was one other word in her lexicon which was in the nature of ajewel to be used only on special occasions. It was the word "copasetic. "The best society of Salem Hill understood perfectly that it signalizedan unusual depth of meaning. 

In half a moment she added: "He's got some grand idees. If they was everdrawed out an' spread on the ground so that folks could see them, Ireckon they'd be surprised. "

"I'm sorry to find him in this condition, " said Harry. "We wanted you andhim to come out and help Mrs. Traylor to look after the place while weare gone to Chicago. "

"You needn't worry about Ol' John, " said she. 

"He'll git lonesome an' toddle off when the 'Colonel' goes to bed an'won't come 'round ag'in till snow flies. That man will be just as steadyas an ox all the summer an' fall--not a laugh out o' him--you see. "

"Can you be there at six in the morning?"

"We'll be there--sure as sunrise--an' ready to go to work. "

They were on hand at the hour appointed, the "Colonel" having acquired, meanwhile, his wonted look of solemnity. 

Josiah, now a sturdy boy of thirteen, stood in the dooryard, holding thetwo saddle ponies from Nebraska which Samson had bought of a drover. Betsey, a handsome young miss almost fifteen years old, stood beside him. Sambo, a sober old dog with gray hairs in his head, sat near, looking atthe horses. Sarah, whose face had begun to show the wear of years full ofloneliness and hard work, was packing the saddle-bags, now nearly filled, with extra socks and shirts and doughnuts and bread and butter. As thetravelers were saying good-by, Mrs. Lukins handed a package to Samson. 

"I heard Philemon Morris readin' 'bout Chicago in the paper, " said she. "I want you to take that money an' buy me some land thar--jest as much asye kin. There's two hundred an' fifty dollars in the foot o' that ol'sock, and most of it shiny gold. "

"I wouldn't risk my savings that way, " Samson advised. "It's too muchlike gambling. You couldn't afford to lose your money. "

"You do as I tell ye, " the "Colonel's" wife insisted. "I alwus obey yourorders. Now I want you to take one from me. "

"All right, " the man answered. "If I see anything that looks good to me, I'll buy it if I can. "

As the two men were riding toward the village, Samson said: "Kind o'makes my heart ache to leave home even for a little while these days. We've had six long, lonesome years on that farm. Not one of our friendshave been out to see us. Sarah was right. Movin' west is a good deal likedyin' and goin' to another world. It's a pity we didn't settle furthernorth, but we were tired of travel when we got here. We didn't know whichway to turn and felt as if we'd gone far enough. When we settle downagain, it'll be where we can take some comfort and see lots o' folksevery day. "

"Have you decided where to go?" Harry asked. 

"I think we shall go with Abe to Springfield. "

"That's good. Next year I hope to be admitted to the bar, and I'd like tosettle in Springfield. "

For nearly two years Abe Lincoln had been passing the law books that hehad read to Harry before they went back to John T. Stuart. 

The gray horses, Colonel and Pete, stood by the fence in the pasture lotand whinnied as the men passed. 

"They know us all right, " said Samson. "I guess they feel slighted, butthey've had their last journey. They're about worn out. We'll give 'em avacation this summer. I wouldn't sell 'em. They're a part o' the family. You can lay yer hand on either one and say that no better boss was everwrapped in a surcingle. "

They met Abe Lincoln at the tavern, where he was waiting on a big horsewhich he had borrowed for the trip from James Rutledge. Without delay, the three men set out on the north road in perfect weather. From thehill's edge they could look over a wooded plain running far to the east. 

"It's a beautiful place to live up here, but on this side you need aladder to get to it. The little village is going to die--too muchaltitude. It's a horse killer. No team can draw anything but its breathgoing up that hill. It's all right for a generation of walkers, but thetime has come when we must go faster than a walk and carry bigger burdensthan a basket or a bundle. Every one will be moving--mostly toPetersburg. "

As they rode on, the young statesman repeated a long passage from one ofthe sermons of Dr. William Ellery Channing on the Instability of HumanAffairs. 

"I wish that I had your memory, " Samson remarked. 

"My memory is like a piece of metal, " said the young legislator. "Learning is not easy for me. It's rather slow work--like engraving witha tool. But when a thing is once printed on my memory it seems to staythere. It doesn't rub out. When I run across a great idea, wellexpressed, I like to put it on the wall of my mind where I can live withit. In this way every man can have his own little art gallery and be inthe company of great men. "

They forded a creek in deep water, where a bridge had been washed away. 

As they came out dripping on the farther shore. Lincoln remarked: "Thething to do in fording a deep stream is to keep watch o' your horse'sears. As long as you can see 'em you're all right. "

"Mr. Lincoln, I'm sorry--you got into a hole, " said Samson. 

"I don't mind that, but while we're traveling together, please don't callme 'Mr. Lincoln. ' I don't think I've done anything to deserve such lackof respect"

Samson answered: "If you're nice to us, I don't know but we'll call ye'Abe' again, just for a few days. You can't expect us to go too far witha man who associates with Judges and Generals and Governors and suchtrash. If you keep it up, you're bound to lose standing in ourcommunity. "

"I know I've changed, " said Abe. "I've grown older since Ann died--yearsolder--but I don't want you fellows to throw me over. I'm on the samelevel that you are and I intend to stay there. It's a fool notion thatmen go up some heavenly stairway to another plane when they begin to dothings worth while. That's a kind of feudalistic twaddle. The wise mankeeps his feet on the ground and lifts his mind as high as possible. Thehigher he lifts it, the more respect he will have for the common folk. Have either of you seen McNamar since he got back?"

"I saw him the day he drove into the village, " Harry answered. "He wasexpecting to find Ann and make good his promise to marry her. "

"Poor fool! It's a sad story all around, " said Abe Lincoln. "He's not abad fellow, I reckon, but he broke Ann's heart. Didn't realize what atender thing it was. I can't forgive him. "

In the middle of the afternoon they came in sight of the home of HenryBrimstead. 

"Here's where we stop and feed, and listen to Henry's secrets, " saidSamson. 

The level fields were cut into squares outlined by wooden stakes. 

Brimstead was mowing the grass in his dooryard. He dropped his scythe andcame to welcome the travelers. 

"Say, don't you know that you are standing in the center of a large andpromising city?" he said to Samson. "You fellers ought to dress up alittle when ye come to town. "

"Boys, we've stumbled on to a dream city, paved with gold and arched withrainbows, " said Samson. 

"You are standing at the corner of Grand Avenue and Empire Street, in thegrowing city of El Dorado, near the great water highway of Illinois, "Brimstead declaimed. 

"Where's the growin'?" Samson demanded. 

Brimstead came closer and said in a confidential tone: "If you standright where you are an' listen, you'll hear it growin'. "

"It sounds a good deal like a turnip growin' in a garden, " Samsonremarked, thoughtfully. 

"Give it a fair chance, " Brimstead went on. "Two cellars have been dugover there in the pasture. One is for the Town Hall and the other for theUniversity which the Methodists are going to build. A railroad has beensurveyed and is expected this summer. "

"That same railroad has been expected in a thousand places since '32, "said Samson. 

"I know, it's the most expected thing in the United States but that won'tscare it away, " Brimstead went on. "Everybody is yellin' for it. "

"You can't call a railroad as you would a dog by whistling, " Abe warnedhim. 

"But it's got beyond Buffalo on its way, " said Brimstead. 

"A team of healthy snails would get here soouer, " Samson insisted. 

"El Dorado can make out with a canal to Lake Michigan, carrying itsmanufactures and the product of the surrounding country straight to thebig cities of the East, " said Brimstead. "Every corner lot in my city hasbeen sold and paid for, half cash and half notes. "

"The brokers in Chicago got the cash and you got the notes?"

"You've said it. I've got a drawer full of notes. "

"And you've quit farmin'?"

"Say, I'll tell ye the land has gone up so it wouldn't pay. Peasley an'I cal'ate that we're goin' to git rich this summer sellin' lots. "

"Wake up, man. You're dreamin', " said Samson. 

Henry came dose to Samson and said in a confidential tone: "Say, mebbethe whole state is dreamin' an' yellin' in its sleep 'bout canals an'schools an' factories an' mills an' railroads. We're havin' a goodtime anyway. "

This reminded Abe Lincoln of the story:

"There was a man in Pope County who came home one evening and sat down inthe middle of the barn floor and began to sing. His wife asked him:

"'Are you drunk or crazy or a fool?'

"'I don't know what you'd call it, but I know I ain't got a darn bit tospare, ' he answered, with a whoop of joy. "

"You're all goin' to roll out o' bed and hit the floor with a bump, " saidSamson. 

Brimstead declared in his usual tone of confidence:

"The worst part o' bein' a fool is lonesomeness. I was the only one inFlea Valley. Now I shall be in the company of a Governor an' dozens o'well known statesmen. You'll be the only lonesome man in Illinois. "

"I sometimes fear that he will enjoy the loneliness of wisdom, " saidHonest Abe. 

"In some parts of the state every farmer owns his own private city, "Samson declared. "I hope Henry Brimstead does as well raising cities ashe did raising grain. He was a very successful farmer. "

"I knew you'd make fun o' me but when you come again you'll see thetowers an' steeples, " said Brimstead. "Put up your horses and come intothe house and see the first lady of El Dorado. "

Mrs. Brimstead had their dinner cooking before the horses were cared for. Samson went into the house while Henry was showing his El Dorado map tothe others. 

"Well, what do you think of Henry's plans?" she asked. 

"I like the farm better. "

"So do I, " the woman declared. "But the men around here have gone crazywith dreams of sudden wealth. I kept Henry busy on the farm as long as Icould. "

"I've only a word of advice about it. If those Chicago men sell any moreof your land make them take the notes and you take the money. Where isAnnabel?"

"Teaching the school at Hopedale. "

"We're going up to Chicago to see the Kelsos, " said Samson. 

"Glad you are. Some rich feller up there by the name of Davis has fallenin love with Bim an' he don't give her any peace. He left here last nightgoin' north. Owns a lot o' land in Tazewell County an' wears a diamond inhis shirt as big as your thumb nail. Bim has been teaching school inChicago this winter. It must be a wonderful place. Every one has loadsof money. The stores an' houses are as thick as the hair on a dog'sback-some of 'em as big as all outdoors. "

She added in a moment as she stirred her pudding: "Something ought to bedone for Bim to get her free. "

"We're going to see about that, " Samson assured her. 

"Harry had better look out, " said Mrs. Brimstead. 

"Abe is going to get a divorce for her an' I guess from now on the grasswon't have a chance to grow under Harry's feet. The boy has worried agood deal lately. Wouldn't wonder if he'd heard o' those rich fellers buthe hasn't let on about it. "

Abe Lincoln and Harry entered with their host and the travelers sat downto a luncheon of pudding and milk and doughnuts and pie. 

"There's no El Dorado about this, " said Samson. "Women have to havesomething more than hopes to work with. "

"The women in this country have to do all their dreaming at night, " saidMrs. Brimstead. 

"El Dorado will not stay long, " Samson averred. 

"It wouldn't cost much to shoo it off your land, " Abe laughed. 

"You can't either shoo or shoot it, " said Brimstead. 

"I look for it just to take the rickets an' die, " was the comment of hiswife. 

"How far do you call it to the sycamore woods?" Lincoln asked as theyrose from the table. 

"About thirty mile, " said Brimstead. 

"We must be off if we are to get there before dark, " the young statesmandeclared. 

They saddled their horses and mounted and rode up to the door. Aftertheir acknowledgments and farewells Brimstead came close to Samson andsaid in confidence: "I enjoy bein' a millionaire for a few minutes nowan' then. It's as good as goin' to a circus an' cheaper. "

"The feelings of a millionaire are almost as good as the money while theylast, " said Abe Lincoln with a laugh. 

Brimstead came up to him and whispered: "They're better 'cause if you cankeep away from Samson Traylor you don't have any fear o' bein' robbed. "

"It reminds me o' the time I used to play I was a horse, " said Samson asthey rode away. In a moment he added: "Abe, the state is getting in a badway. "

"It looks as if you were right, " said the member from Sangamon County. "It's a bad sign to find men like Peasley and Brimstead going crazy. "

Up the road they passed many farms unsown and staked into streets andavenues. The hand of industry had been checked by dreams of wealth. 

"The land that once laughed with fatness now has a lean and solemn look, "Abe admitted. "But I reckon you'll find that kind of thing going on allover the country-east and west. "

"It reminds me of those fellers that danced on the table an' smashed thedishes at the banquet, " said Samson. 

"They had the same kind o' feelin's that Brimstead has, " said thelegislator. "I wish we had had you in the House. "

"They would have thrown me out of a window. "

"I wouldn't wonder but I reckon the time is near when they would urge youto come in at the door. You've got more good sense than all of us puttogether. I've heard you accuse me of growing but your own growth hasastonished me. "

"No one can stand still in this country especially if he's got a wifelike mine, " Samson answered. "Even Mr. And Mrs. Peter Lukins want to bemovin' on, an' a city is likely to come an' sit down beside ye when yeain't lookin'. "

"Your wife is a wonderful woman, " said Abe. 

"She's been a great help to me, " Samson declared. "We read together andtalk the matter over. She's got better sense than I have. "

"And yet they say women ought not to vote, " said Lincoln. "That's anotherrelic of feudalism. I think that the women you and I know are as wellqualified to vote as the men. "

"On the whole better. They are more industrious, thrifty and dependable. Have you ever seen a 'Colonel' Lukins or a Bap McNoll in woman's dress?"

"Never. Democracy has much ground to win. For my part I believe that theDeclaration of Independence is a practical document. My ambition is tosee its truth accepted everywhere. As a contribution to human welfare itsprinciples are second only to the law of Moses. It should be our work tokeep the structure of America true to the plan of its architects. "

After a moment of silence Lincoln added: "What is your ambition?"

"It is very modest, " said Samson. "I've been thinking that I'd like to gointo some kind of business and help develop the West. "

"Well some one has got to provide our growing population with food andclothing and tools and transportation. "

"And see that they don't get El Doradoed, " said Harry. 

At early candlelight they reached the sycamore woods very hungry. It wasa beautiful grove-like forest on the shore of a stream. The crossing wasa rough bridge of corduroy. A crude log tavern and a cruder store stoodon the farther shore of the creek. The tavern was a dirty place with adrunken proprietor. Three ragged, shiftless farmers and a half-breedIndian sat in its main room in varying stages of inebriacy. A welldressed, handsome, young man with a diamond in his shirt-front wasleading a horse back and forth in the stable yard. The diamond led Samsonto suspect that he was the man Davis of whom Mrs. Brimstead had spoken. Our travelers, not liking the look of the place, got some oats and rodeon, camping near the farther edge of the woods, where they built a fire, fed and tethered their horses and sat down and ate from the store intheir saddle-bags. 

"I was hankering for a hot supper, " said Abe as they began eating. "Washington Irving wrote in his journal that if he couldn't get a dinnerto suit his taste he endeavored to get a taste to suit his dinner. Thatis what we must do. "

They made out very well in the undertaking and then with their knives Abeand Samson cut big armfuls of grass from the near prairie for the horsesand a bed upon which the three men lay down for the night. Harry haddried out their saddle-blankets by the fire and these were their bedclothing. 

"This hay may have some bugs in it but they won't tickle so bad as thosein the tavern, " Abe laughed. 

Then Harry remarked: "There was lots of bad company in that tavern. Thetowel that hung over the washstand was as black as the ground. "

"It reminded me of the tavern down in Pope County, " Abe yawned. "Atraveler found fault with the condition of its one towel and the landlordsaid: 'Go to h--ll, stranger. More than fifty men have used that towlto-day an' you're the first one that's complained of it. '"

Samson had that gift of "sleeping with one eye open" which the perils ofthe wilderness had conferred upon the pioneer. He had lain down on theside of their bed near the horses, which, were tethered to trees only afew feet away. He had gone to sleep with his pistol under his right hand. Since the beginning of that long journey overland from Vermont Samson hadbeen wont to say that his right hand never slept. Late in the night hawas awakened by an unusual movement among the horses. In the dim light ofthe fire he could see a man in the act of bridling Abe's horse. 

"Hold up your hands, " Samson shouted as he covered the man with hispistol. "If ye stir a foot I'll bore a hole in ye. "

The man threw up his hands and stood still. 

In half a moment Abe Lincoln and Harry had got up and captured the manand the loosed horse. 

This is part of the entry which Samson made in his diary a week or solater:

 * * * * *

"Harry put some wood on the fire while Abe and I led him up into thelight. He was one of the dirty white men we had seen at the tavern. 

"'I'll give ye four hundred dollars for a hogs in good Michigan money, 'he said. 

"'If ye can't steal a horse you're willin' to buy one, ' I says. 

"'No, sir. I only come to buy, ' says he. 

"I flopped him sudden and asked him why he was putting on the bridle. 

"He owned up then. Said a man had hired him to steal the horse. 

"'That man has got to have a hoss, ' he said. 'He'll give ye any price yewant to ask. If you'll give me a few dollars I'll take ye to him. '

"'You go and bring him here and I'll talk to him, ' I said. 

"I let the feller go. I didn't suppose he'd come back but he did. Came alittle before sunrise with that well dressed feller we saw at the tavern. 

"'Do you want to buy a horse?' I says. 

"'Yes, sir, I've got to get to Chicago to-day if possible. '

"'What's your hurry?'

"'I have engagements to-morrow and land to sell. '

"'How did ye get here?'

"'Came up from Tazewell County to-day on a horse. It died last evening. '

"'What's your name?' I says. 

"He handed me a card on which I read the words 'Lionel Davis, RealEstate, Loans and Insurance, 14 South Water Street, Chicago, Ill. '

"'There's one branch o' your business that isn't mentioned on the card, 'I says. 

"'What's that?' says he. 

"'Horse-thief, ' says I. 'You sent that feller here to steal a horse andhe got caught. '

"'Well I told him if he'd get me a good horse I'd give him five hundreddollars and that I didn't care how he got him. The fact is I'm desperate. I'll give you a thousand dollars for one of your horses. '

"'You couldn't buy one of 'em at any price, ' I said. 'There's tworeasons. I wouldn't do business with a horse-thief and no money wouldtempt me to sell an animal to be ridden to death. '

"The two thieves had had enough of us and they got out. "

 * * * * *

That night our party camped on the shore of the Kankakee and next daythey met the contractors. Lincoln joined the latter party and Harry andSamson went on alone. Late that afternoon they crossed the nine mileprairie, beyond which they could see the shimmer of the lake and thesunlit structures of the new city. Pink and white moccasin flowers andprimroses were thick in the grass. On the lower ground the hoofs of theirhorses plashed in wide stretches of shallow water. 

Chicago looked very bare on the high prairie above the lake. It was Mr. William Cullen Bryant who said that it had the look of a huckster in hisshirt-sleeves. 

"There it is, " said Samson. "Four thousand, one hundred and eighty peoplelive there. It looks like a sturdy two-year-old. "

The houses were small and cheaply built and of many colors. Some wereunpainted. Near the prairie they stood like people on the outer edge ofa crowd, looking over one another's shoulders and pushing in a disorderedmass toward the center of interest. Some seemed to have straggled away asif they had given up trying to see or hear. So to one nearing it thetown had a helter-skelter look. 

Our travelers passed rough boarded houses with grand-looking people intheir dooryards and on their small porches--men in broadcloth and tallhats and ladies in silk dresses. It was six o'clock and the men had comehome to supper. As the horsemen proceeded larger buildings surroundedthem, mostly two stories high. There were some stores and houses built ofred brick. Beyond the scatter of cheap, wooden structures they came tostreets well laid out and crowded and busy and "very soft" to quote aphrase from the diary. Teams were struggling in the mud, drivers shoutingand lashing. Agents for hotels and boarding-houses began to solicit thetwo horsemen from the plank sidewalks. The latter were deeply impressedby a negro in scarlet clothes, riding a horse in scarlet housings. Hecarried a scarlet banner and was advertising in a loud voice the hour andplace of a great land sale that evening. 

A sound of many hammers beating upon boards could be heard above thenoises of the street and behind all was the constant droning of a bigsteam saw and the whir of the heavy stones in the new grist mill. It wasthe beginning of that amazing diapason of industry which accompanied thebuilding of the cities of the West. 

They got out in the livery stable of the City Hotel and at the desk ofthe latter asked about the price of board. It was three dollars a day andno politeness in the offer. 

"It's purty steep, " said Samson. "But I'm too hungry for argument ordelay and I guess we can stand it to be nabobs for a day or so. "

"I shall have to ask you to pay in advance, " the clerk demanded. 

Samson drew out the pig's bladder in which he carried his money and paidfor a day's board. 

Samson writes that Harry spent half an hour washing and dressing himselfin the clean clothes and fine shoes which he had brought in hissaddle-bags and adds:

 * * * * *

"He was a broad-shouldered, handsome chap those days, six feet and aninch high and straight as an arrow with a small blond mustache. Hisclothes were rumpled up some and he wore a gray felt hat instead ofa tall one but there was no likelier looking lad in the new city. "

 * * * * *

After supper the office of the hotel was crowded with men in tall hatsand tail coats smoking "seegars" and gathered in groups. The earnestnessof their talk was signalized by little outbursts of profanity coupledwith the name of Jackson. Some denounced the President as a traitor. Oneman stood in the midst of a dozen others delivering a sort of oration, embellished with noble gestures, on the future of Illinois. His teethwere clenched on his "seegar" that tilted out of the corner of his mouthas he spoke. Now and then he would pause and by a deft movement of hislips roll the "seegar" to the other corner of his mouth, take a freshgrip on it and resume his oration. 

Samson wrote in his diary:

 "He said a lot of foolish things that made us laugh. "

Twenty years later he put this note under that entry:

 "The funny thing about it was really this; they all came true. "

The hotel clerk had a _Register of the Residents of the City of Chicago_wherein they found the name and address of John Kelso. They went out tofind the house. Storekeepers tried to stop them as they passed along thestreet with offers of land at bargains which would make them millionairesin a week. In proceeding along the plank sidewalks they were oftenascending or descending steps to another level. 

They went to a barber shop and got "trimmed and shaved. " For change thebarber gave them a sort of shinplaster money, each piece of which borethe legend: "Good for one shave or ten cents at the Palace ShavingParlors, 16 Dearborn Street, Chicago, Ill. " The barber assured them itwas as good as coin anywhere in the city which they found to be true. Thetown was flooded with this "red dog money" issued by stores or work-shopsand finding general acceptance among its visitors and inhabitants. On thesidewalks were emigrant families the older members of which carried heavybags and bundles. They were followed by troops of weary, dirty children. 

On La Salle Street they found the home of Jack Kelso. It was a roughboarded small house a story and a half high. It had a little porch anddooryard enclosed by an unpainted picket fence. Bim in a handsome, bluesilk gown came running out to meet them. 

"If you don't mind I'm going to kiss you, " she said to Harry. 

"I'd mind if you didn't, " said the young man as he embraced her. 

"We must be careful not to get the habit, " she laughed. 

"It grows on one. "

"It also grows on two, " she answered. 

"I'd enjoy being careless for once, " said Harry. 

"Women can be extravagant with everything but carelessness, " sheinsisted. "Do you like this gown?"

"It is lovely--like yourself. "

"Then perhaps you will be willing to take me to the party to-night. Mymother will chaperon us. "

"With these clothes that have just been hauled out of a saddle-bag?" saidHarry with a look of alarm. 

"Even rags could not hide the beauty of him, " said Kelso as he came downfrom the porch to greet them. "And look at her, " he went on. "Was thereever a fairer maid in spite of all her troubles? See the red in hercheeks and the diamond glow of youth and health in her eyes. You shouldsee the young men sighing and guitaring around her. "

"You'll hear me tuning up, " Harry declared. 

"That is father's way of comforting my widowhood, " said Bim. "He has madea wonderful beauty mask and often he claps it on me and whistles up aband of sighing lovers. As a work of the imagination I am a greatsuccess. "

"The look of you sets my heart afire again, " the boy exclaimed. 

"Come--put up your guitar and take mother and me to the party at Mrs. Kinzie's, " said Bim. "A very grand young man was coming to take us in awonderful carriage but he's half an hour late now. We won't wait forhim. "

So the three set out together afoot for Mrs. Kinzie's, while Samson satdown for a visit with Jack Kelso. 

"Mrs. Kinzie enjoys the distinction of owning a piano, " said Bim as theywent on. "There are only three pianos In the city and so far we havediscovered only two people who can play on them--the music teacher and ayoung gentleman from Baltimore. When they are being played on peoplegather around the houses where they are. "

The Kinzies' house was of brick and larger and more pretentious than anyin Chicago. Its lawn, veranda and parlor were crowded with people in acurious variety of costumes. 

Nearly all the festive company wore diamonds. They scintillated onfingers, some of which were knotted with toil; they glowed on shirtbosoms and morning as well as evening gowns; on necks and ears whichshould have been spared the emphasis of jewels. They were the acceptedbadge and token of success. People who wore them not were either newarrivals or those of questionable wealth and taste. So far had thissingular vanity progressed that a certain rich man, who had lost a fingerin a saw mill, wore an immense solitaire next to the stub, it may bepresumed, as a memorial to the departed. 

Colonel Zachary Taylor, who had laterly arrived from Florida and waspresently returning with a regiment of recruits for the Seminole War, wasat Mrs. Kinzie's party. He was then a man of middle age with iron grayhair and close cropped side whiskers. A splendid figure he was in hisuniform. He remembered Harry and took him in hand and introduced him tomany of his friends as the best scout in the Black Hawk War, and, inspite of his dress, the young man became one of the lions of the evening. 

"I reckon I could tell you some things about this boy, " the Colonel saidto Bim. 

"He may not be afraid of guns or Indians but he has always been scared ofwomen, " said she. 

"Which shows that he has a just sense of the relative importance ofperils, " the Colonel answered. "A man of the highest chivalry is everafraid in the presence of a lovely woman and chiefly for her sake. Ionce held a beautiful vase in my hands. They said it was worth tenthousand dollars. I was afraid until I had put it down. "

"A great piano player from New York" was introduced. She played on Mrs. Kinzie's instrument, after which Bim sang a number of Scottish balladsand "delightfully" if one may believe a chronicler so partial as HarryNeedles, the value of whose judgment is somewhat affected by thestatement in his diary that as she stood by the piano her voice andbeauty set his heart thumping in his breast. However of the charm andpopularity of this young lady there is ample evidence in copies of TheDemocrat which are still preserved and in sundry letters and journals ofthat time. 

The refreshment table was decorated with pyramids of quartered oranges innets of spun sugar and large frosted cakes. There were roasted pigeonsand turkeys and chickens and a big ham, served with jelly, and plattersof doughnuts and bread and butter and cabbage salad. Every one ateheartily and was served often, for the supper was thought to be the mostimportant feature of a party those days. 

After refreshments the men went outside to smoke and talk--some withpipes--of canals, railroads and corner lots while the younger people weredancing and being proudly surveyed by their mothers. 

As Harry and the ladies were leaving Colonel Taylor came to them andsaid:

"Young man, I am the voice of your country. I call you to Florida. Willyou go with us next week?"

Harry looked into Bim's eyes. 

"The campaign will be over in a year and I need you badly, " the Colonelurged. 

"I can not say no to the call of my country, " Harry answered. "I willjoin your regiment at Beardstown on its way down the river. "

That night Harry and Bim stood by the gate talking after Mrs. Kelso hadgone into the house. 

"Bim, I love you more than ever, " said the boy. "Abe says you can get adivorce. I have brought the papers for you to sign. They will make youfree. I have done it for your sake. You will be under no obligation. Iwant you to be free to marry whom you will. I would be the happiest manin the world if you were to choose me. I haven't the wealth of some ofthese city men. I can only offer you my love. "

"Be careful and please let go of my hand, " she said. "The time has comewhen it would be possible to spoil our story. I'm not going to say a wordof love to you. I am not free yet. We couldn't marry if we wanted to. Iwish you to be under no sense of obligation to me. Many things may happenin a year. I am glad you are going to see more of the world before yousettle down, Harry. You will stop in New Orleans and see some of itsbeautiful women. It will help you to be sure to know yourself a littlebetter and to be sure of what you want to do. "

There was a note of sadness in her voice as she spoke these words whichbe recalled with a sense of comfort on many a lonely day. 

"I think that I know myself fairly well, " he answered. "There are so manybetter men who want to marry you! I shall go away with a great fear inme. "

"There are no better men, " she answered. "When you get back we shall seewhat comes of our little romance. Meanwhile I'm going to pray for you. "

"And I for you, " he said as he followed her into the house where theolder people sat waiting for them. Harry gave the papers to Bim to besigned and attested and forwarded to Mr. Stuart in Springfield. 

On their way to the hotel Samson said to Harry:

"I don't believe Bim is going to be carried away by any of thesehigh-flyers. She's getting to be a very sensible person. Jack isdisgusted by what he calls 'the rank commercialism of the place. ' I toldhim about that horse-thief Davis. He was the man who was going to theparty to-night with the ladies. He's in love with Bim. Jack says that themen here are mostly of that type. They seem to have gone crazy in thescramble for riches. Their motto is: 'Get it; do it honestly if you can, but get it. ' I guess that was exactly the plan of Davis in trying to geta horse. 

"Poor Jack has caught the plague. He has invested in land. Thinks it willmake him rich. He's in poor health too--kidney trouble--and Bim has ababy with all the rest--a beautiful boy. I went up-stairs and saw himasleep in his cradle. Looks like her. Hair as yellow as gold, lightcomplexion, blue eyes, handsome as a picture. "

That night in the office of the City Hotel they found Mr. Lionel Davisin the midst of a group of excited speculators. In some way he had gotacross the prairies and was selling his land and accepting every offer onthe plea that he was going into the grain business in St. Louis and hadto leave Chicago next day. Samson and Harry watched him while heexercised the arts of the auctioneer in cleaning his slate. Diamonds andgold watches were taken and many thousands of dollars in bank bills andcoin came into his hands. He choked the market with bargains. The buyersbegan to back off. They were like hungry dogs laboring with a difficultproblem of mastication. Mr. Davis closed his carpet bag and left. 

"It was a kind of horse stealin', " said Samson as they were going to bed. "He got news down there on the main road by pony express on its way toSt. Louis. I'll bet there's been a panic in the East. He's awake and theothers are still dreamin'. "

CHAPTER XIX

WHEREIN IS ONE OF THE MANY PRIVATE PANICS WHICH FOLLOWED THE BURSTING OFTHE BUBBLE OF SPECULATION. 

Samson and Harry saw the bursting of the great bubble of '37. Late thatnight Disaster, loathsome and thousand legged, crept into the littlecity. It came on a steamer from the East and hastened from home to home, from tavern to tavern. It bit as it traveled. Great banks had suspendedpayment; New York had suffered a panic; many large business enterprisesin the East had failed; certain agents for the bonds of Illinois hadabsconded with the state's money; in the big cities there had been anominous closing of doors and turning of locks; a great army of men wereout of employment. Those of sound judgment in Chicago knew that all thegrand schemes of the statesmen and speculators of Illinois were as thevisions of an ended dream. The local banks did not open their doors nextday. The little city was in a frenzy of excitement. The streets werefilled with a shouting, half crazed throng. New fortunes had shrunk tonothing and less than nothing in a night. Lots in the city were offeredfor a tithe of what their market value had been. Davis had known that thestorm would arrive with the first steamer and in the slang of businesshad put on a life-preserver. Samson knew that the time to buy was whenevery one wanted to sell. He wore a belt with some two thousand dollarsof gold coin tucked away in its pockets. He bought two corner lots forhimself in the city and two acres for Mrs. Lukins on the prairie half amile from town. They got their deeds and went to the Kelsos to bid themgood-by. 

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Samson asked. 

"Just give us a friendly thought now and then, " said Kelso. 

"You can have my horse or my wallet or the strength of my two hands. "

"I have heard you called a damned Yankee but I can think of no greaterblessing than to be damned in a like manner, " Kelso answered. "Keep yourlargess for those who need it more, good friend. "

After these hearty farewells Samson and Harry set out for their home. They were not again to see the gentle face and hear the pleasant talk ofJack Kelso. He had once said, in the presence of the writer, that it iswell to remember, always, that things can not go on with us as they are. Changes come--slowly and quite according to our calculations or soswiftly and Unexpectedly that they fill us with confusion. Learned andwise in the weighty problems of humanity he had little prudence inregulating the affairs of his own family. 

Kelso had put every dollar he had and some that he hoped to have intoland. Bim, who had been teaching in one of the schools, had invested allher savings in a dream city on the shore of an unconstructed canal. 

Like many who had had no experience with such phenomena theyunderestimated the seriousness of the panic. They thought that, in a weekor so, its effect would pass and that Illinois would then resume itstriumphal march toward its high destiny. Not even Samson Traylor hada correct notion of the slowness of Time. 

The effect of the panic paralyzed the city. Men whose "red dog money"was in every one's pocket closed their shops and ran away. The wildadventurers cleared out. Their character may be judged by the words ofone of them reported by the editor of _The Democrat_. 

"I failed for a hundred thousand dollars and could have failed for amillion if Jackson had kept his hands off. "

Hard times hung like a cloud over the city. Its population suffered somediminishment in the next two years in spite of its position on the mainhighway of trade. Dream cities, canals and railroads built without handsbecame a part of the poetry of American commerce. Indeed they had come ofthe prophetic vision and were therefore entitled to respect in spite ofthe fact that they had been smirched and polluted by speculators. 

That autumn men and women who had come to Mrs. Kinzie's party in jewelsand in purple and fine linen had left or turned their hands to hardlabor. The Kelsos suffered real distress, the schools being closed andthe head of the house having taken to his bed with illness. Bim went towork as a seamstress and with the help of Mrs. Kinzie and Mrs. Hubbardwas able to keep the family from want. The nursing and the care of thebaby soon broke the health of Mrs. Kelso, never a strong woman. Bim camehome from her work one evening and found her mother ill. 

"Cheer up, my daughter, " said Jack. "An old friend of ours has returnedto the city. He is a rich man--an oasis in the desert of poverty. He hasloaned me a hundred dollars in good coin. "

"Who has done this?" Bim asked. 

"Mr. Lionel Davis. He has just come from New Orleans. He is a successfulspeculator in grain. "

"We must not take his money, " said Bim. 

"I had a long talk with him, " Kelso went on. "He has explained thatunfortunate incident of the horse. It was a bit of offhand folly born ofan anxious moment. "

"But the man wants to marry me. "

"He said nothing of such a purpose. "

"He will be in no hurry about that, " said Bim. "He is a shrewd operator. Every one hates him. They say that he knew what was coming when he soldout. "

That evening Bim wrote a long letter to Samson Traylor telling of theevil days which had come to them. This letter, now in the possession of agreat grandson of Samson and Sarah Traylor, had a singular history. Itreached the man to whom it was addressed in the summer of 1844. It wasfound with many others that summer in Tazewell County under a barn whichits owner was removing. It brought to mind the robbery of the stage fromChicago, south of the sycamore woods, in the autumn of '37, by a man whohad ridden with the driver from Chicago and who, it was thought, had beenin collusion with him. A curious feature of the robbery had been revealedby the discovery of the mail sack. It was unopened, its contentsundisturbed, its rusty padlock still in place. The perpetrator of thecrime had not soiled his person with any visible evidence of guilt and sowas never apprehended. 

Then for a time Bim entered upon great trials. Jack Kelso weakened. Burning with fever, his mind wandered in the pleasant paths he loved andsaw in its fancy the deeds of Ajax and Achilles and the topless towers ofIllium and came not back again to the vulgar and prosaic details of life. The girl knew not what to do. A funeral was a costly thing. She had nomoney. The Kinzies had gone on a hunting trip in Wisconsin. Mrs. Hubbardwas ill and the Kelsos already much in her debt. Mr. Lionel Davis came. 

He was a good-looking young man of twenty-nine, those days, rather stoutand of middle stature with dark hair and eyes. He was dressed in theheight of fashion. He used to boast that he had only one vice--diamonds. But he had ceased to display them on his shirt-front or his fingers. Hecarried them in his pockets and showed them by the glittering handfulto his friends. They had come to him through trading in land where theywere the accepted symbol of success and money was none too plentiful. Hehad melted their settings and turned them into coin. The stones he keptas a kind of surplus--a half hidden evidence of wealth and of superiorityto the temptation to vulgar display. Mr. Davis was a calculating, masterful, keen-minded man, with a rather heavy jaw. In his presence Bimwas afraid for her soul that night. He was gentle and sympathetic. Heoffered to lend her any amount she needed. She made no answer but sattrying to think what she would best do. The Traylors had paid noattention to her letter although a month had passed since it was written. 

In a moment she rose and gave him her hand. 

"It is very kind of you, " said she. "If you can spare me five hundreddollars for an indefinite time I will take it. "

"Let me lend you a thousand, " he urged. "I can do it without a bit ofinconvenience. "

"I think that five hundred will be enough, " she said. 

It carried her through that trouble and into others of which her woman'sheart had found abundant signs in the attitude of Mr. Davis. He gave themost assiduous attention to the comfort of Bim and her mother. He had hada celebrated physician come down from Milwaukee to see Mrs. Kelso and hadpaid the bill in advance. He bought a new and wonderful swinging crib ofburnished steel for the baby. 

"I can not let you be doing these things for us, " Bim said one eveningwhen he had called to see them. 

"And I can not help loving you and doing the little I can to express it, "he answered. "There is no use in my trying to keep it from you when Ifind myself lying awake nights planning for your comfort. I would like tomake every dollar I have tell you in some way that I love you. That's howI feel and you might as well know it. "

"You have been kind to us, " Bim answered. "We feel it very deeply but Ican not let you talk to me like that. I am a married woman. "

"We can fix that all right. It will be easy for you to get a divorce. "

"But I do not love you, Mr. Davis. "

"Let me try to make you love me, " he pleaded. "Is there any reason why Ishouldn't?"

"Yes. If there were no other reason, I love a young soldier who isfighting in the Seminole War in Florida under Colonel Taylor. "

"Well, at least, you can let me take the place of your father and shieldyou from trouble when I can. "

"You are a most generous and kindly man!" Bim exclaimed with tears in hereyes. 

So he seemed to be, but he was one of those men who weave a spell likethat of an able actor. He excited temporary convictions that began tochange as soon as the curtain fell. He was in fact a performer. Thatlittle midnight scene at the City Hotel had sounded the keynote of hischaracter. He was no reckless villain of romance. If he instigated therobbery of the south-bound mail wagon, of which the writer of this littlehistory has no shadow of doubt, he was so careful about it that noevidence which would satisfy a jury has been discovered to this day. 

On account of the continued illness of her mother Bim was unable toresume her work in the academy. She took what sewing she could do at homeand earned enough to solve the problems of each day. But the paymentcoming due on the house in December loomed ahead of them. It was natural, in the circumstances, that Mrs. Kelso should like Mr. Davis and favor hisaims. Now and then he came and sat with her of an evening while Bim wentout to the shops--an act of accommodation which various neighbor womenwere ever ready to perform. 

Mrs. Kelso's health had improved slowly so that she was able then tospend most of each day in her chair. 

One evening when Davis sat alone with her, she told him the story of Bimand Harry Needles--a bit of knowledge he was glad to have. Their talk wasinterrupted by the return of Bim. She was in a cheerful mood. When Mr. Davis had gone she said to her mother:

"I think our luck has turned. Here's a letter from John T. Stuart. Thedivorce has been granted. "

"Thank the Lord, " Mrs. Kelso exclaimed. "Long ago I knew bad luck wascoming; since the day your father carried an axe through the house. "

"Pshaw! I don't believe in that kind of nonsense. "

"My father would sooner break his leg than carry an edged tool throughthe house, " Mrs. Kelso affirmed. "Three times I have known it to bringsickness. I hope a change has come. "

"No. Bad luck comes when you carry all your money through the house andspend it for land. I am going to write to Harry and tell him to hurryhome and marry me if he wants to. Don't say a word about the divorce toour friend Davis. I want to make him keep his distance. It is hard enoughnow. "

Before she went to bed that night she wrote a long letter to Harry andone to Abe Lincoln thanking him for his part in the matter and tellinghim of her father's death, of the payment coming due and of the hardtimes they were suffering. Two weeks passed and brought no answer fromMr. Lincoln. 

The day before the payment came due in December, a historic letter fromTampa, Fla. , was published in _The Democrat_. It was signed "RobertDeming, private, Tenth Cavalry. " It gave many details of the campaign inthe Everglades in which the famous scout Harry Needles and seven of hiscomrades had been surrounded and slain. When Mr. Davis called at thelittle home in La Salle Street that evening he found Bim in greatdistress. 

"I throw up my hands, " she said. "I can not stand any more. We shall behomeless to-morrow. "

"No, not that--so long as I live, " he answered. "I have bought the claim. You can pay me when you get ready. "

He was very tender and sympathetic. 

When he had left them Bim said to her mother: "Our old friends do notseem to care what becomes of us. I have no thought now save for you andthe baby. I'll do whatever you think best for you two. I don't care formyself. My heart is as dead as Harry's. "

CHAPTER XX

WHICH TELLS OF THE SETTLING OF ABE LINCOLN AND THE TRAYLORS IN THEVILLAGE OF SPRINGFIELD AND OF SAMSON'S SECOND VISIT TO CHICAGO. 

Bim's judgment of her old friends was ill founded. It was a slow time inwhich she lived. The foot of the horse, traveling and often mired in arough muddy highway, was its swiftest courier. Letters carried by horsesor slow steamboats were the only media of communication between peopleseparated by wide distances. The learned wrote letters of astonishinglength and literary finish--letters which were passed from hand to handand read aloud in large and small assemblies. They presented the news andthe comment it inspired. In these old and generous letters, whichantedate the railroad and the telegraph, critics have discovered one ofthe most delicate and informing of the lost arts--the epistolary. But tothe average hand, wearied by heavy tools, the lightsome goose quill, committing its owner to dubious spelling and clumsy penmanship, andexposing the interior of his intellect, was a dreaded thing. When oldBlack Hawk signed a treaty he was wont to say that he had "touched itwith the goose quill. " He made only a little mark whereupon a kind ofsanctity was imparted to the document. Every man unaccustomed to its usestood in like awe of this implement. When he "took his pen in hand" hehad entered upon an adventure so unusual that his letter always mentionedit as if, indeed, it were an item of news not to be overlooked. So it iseasy to understand that many who had traveled far were as the dead, in ameasure, to the friends they had left behind them and that thoseseparated by only half a hundred miles had to be very enterprisingto keep acquainted. 

In March Abe Lincoln had got his license to practise law. On his returnfrom the North he had ridden to Springfield to begin his work as a lawyerin the office of John T. Stuart. His plan was to hire and furnish a roomarid get his meals at the home of his friend, Mr. William Butler. He wentto the store of Joshua Speed to buy a bed and some bedding. He found thatthey would cost seventeen dollars. 

"The question is whether you would trust a man owing a national debt andwithout an asset but good intentions and a license to practise law for somuch money, " said Honest Abe. "I don't know when I could pay you. "

Speed was also a young man of good intentions and a ready sympathy f orthose who had little else. He had heard of the tall representative fromSangamon County. 

"I have a plan which will give you a bed for nothing if you would care toshare my room above the store and sleep with me, " he answered. 

"I'm much obliged but for you it's quite a contract. "

"You're rather long, " Speed laughed. 

"Yes, I could lick salt off the top of your hat. I'm about a man and ahalf but by long practice I've learned how to keep the half out of theway of other people. They say that when Long John Wentworth got toChicago he slept with his feet sticking out of a window and that they hadto take down a partition because he couldn't stand the familiarity of thewoodpeckers, but he is eight inches taller than I am. "

"I'm sure we shall get along well enough together, " said Speed. 

They went up to the room. In a moment Mr. Lincoln hurried away for hissaddle-bags and returned shortly. 

"There are all my earthly possessions, " he said as he threw the bags onthe floor. 

So his new life began in the village of Springfield. Early in the autumnSamson arrived and bought a small house and two acres of land on the edgeof the village and returned to New Salem to move his family andfurniture. When they drove along the top of Salem Hill a number of thehouses were empty and deserted, their owners having moved away. Two ofthe stores were closed. Only ten families remained. They stopped atRutledge's tavern whose entertainment was little sought those days. People from the near houses came to bid them good-by. Dr. John Allen wasamong them. 

"Sorry to see you going, " he said. "With you and Abe and Jack Kelso goneit has become a lonely place. There's not much left for me but the longview from the end of the hill and the singing in the prairie grass. "

Pete and Colonel, invigorated by their long rest, but whitened by age andwith drooping heads, drew the wagon. Sambo and the small boy rode betweenSarah and Samson. Betsey and Josiah walked ahead of the wagon, the latterleading a cow. That evening they were comfortably settled in their newhome. Moving was not such a complicated matter those days. Abe Lincolnwas on hand to bid them welcome and help get their goods in place. He hadborrowed fire and cut some wood and there was a cheering blaze in thefireplace on the arrival of the newcomers. When the beds were set up andready for the night Sarah made some tea to go with the cold victuals shehad brought. Mr. Lincoln ate with them and told of his new work. 

"So far I've had nothing more important to do than proving damage incases of assault and battery, " he said. "There is many a man who, when hethinks he has been wronged, proceeds to take it out of the hide of theother feller. The hides of Illinois have suffered a good deal in thatway. It is very annoying. Generally I stand for the hides. They need afriend and protector. When people take the law in their hands it getsbadly worn and mussed up. In a little while there isn't any law. Nextweek I begin my first turn on the circuit. "

"It seems good to see folks around us, " said Sarah. "I believe we shallenjoy ourselves here. "

"It's a wonderful place, " Lincoln declared with enthusiasm. "There arefine stores and churches and sociables and speeches and theater shows. "

"Yes. It's bigger than Vergennes, " said Sarah. 

"And you're goin' to have time to enjoy it, " Samson broke in. "There'llbe no farm work and Betsey and Josiah are old enough to be quite a help. "

"How the girl is developing!" Abe exclaimed. "I believe she will looklike Bim in a year or two. "

Betsey was growing tall and slim. She had the blonde hair and fair skinof Samson and the dark eyes of her mother. Josiah had grown to be abronzed, sturdy, good-looking lad, very shy and sensitive. 

"There's a likely boy!" said Samson as he clapped the shoulder of hiseldest son. "He's got a good heart In him. "

"You'll spoil him with praise, " Sarah protested and then asked as sheturned to the young statesman. "Have you heard from Bim or any of theKelsos?"

"Not a word. I often think of them. "

"There's been a letter in the candle every night for a week or so, but wehaven't heard a word from Harry or from them, " said Sarah. "I wonder howthey're getting along in these hard times. "

"I told Jack to let me know if I could do anything to help, " Samsonassured them. 

Sarah turned to Abe Lincoln with a smile and said: "As we were comingthrough the village Mary Owens asked me to tell you that on account ofthe hard times she was not going to have a public wedding. "

The chairman of the finance committee laughed and answered: "That oldjoke is still alive. She writes me now and then and tells me what she isdoing in the way of preparation. It's really a foolish little farce wehave been playing in--a kind of courtship to avoid marriage. We have gonetoo far with it. "

A bit later he wrote a playful letter to Mary and told her that there wasso much flourishing about in carriages and the like in Springfield hecould not recommend it to a lady of good sense as a place of residence. He said that owing to certain faults in his disposition he could notrecommend himself as a husband; that he felt sure she could never behappy with him. But he manfully offered to marry her as soon as hiscircumstances would allow if, after serious consideration, she decidedthat she cared to accept him. It was, on the whole, one of the mostgenerous acts in the history of human affairs. 

There is some evidence that Mary was displeased with these and otherlines in the little drama and presently rang down the curtain. Some ofthe spectators were informed by her that Abe Lincoln was crude andawkward and without a word to please a lady of her breeding. But she hadachieved the credit, with certain people, of having rejected a youngman for whom great honors were thought to be in store. 

Late in November Mr. Lincoln went out on the circuit with thedistinguished John T. Stuart who had taken him into partnership. Bim'sletter to him bears an endorsement on its envelope as follows:

 * * * * *

"This letter was forwarded from Vandalia the week I went out on thecircuit and remained unopened in our office until my return six weekslater. --A. Lincoln. "

 * * * * *

The day of his return he went to Sarah and Samson with the letter. 

"I'll get a good horse and start for Chicago to-morrow morning, " saidSamson. "They have had a double blow. Did you read that Harry had beenkilled?"

"Harry killed!" Mr. Lincoln exclaimed. "You don't mean to tell me thatHarry has been killed?"

"The Chicago Democrat says so but we don't believe it, " said Samson. "Here's the article copied into The Sangamon Journal. Read it and thenI'll tell you why I don't think it's so. "

Abe Lincoln read the article. 

"You see it was dated in Tampa, November the fifth, " said Samson. "Beforewe had read that article we had received a letter from Harry datedNovember the seventh. In the letter he says he is all right and Icalculate that he ought to know as much about it as any one. "

"Thank God! Then it's a mistake, " said Lincoln. "We can't afford to loseHarry. I feel rather poor with Jack Kelso gone. It will comfort me to dowhat I can for his wife and daughter. I'll give you every dollar I canspare to take to them. "

A moment of sorrowful silence followed. 

"I'll never forget the kindly soul of Jack or his wit or his sayings, many of which are in my notebook, " said Lincoln as he sat looking sadlyinto the fire. 

They talked much of the great but humble man who had so loved honor andbeauty and whose life had ended in the unholy turmoil of the new city. 

"The country is in great trouble, " was a remark of Abe Lincoln inspiredby the reflections of the hour. "We tried to allay it in the specialsession of July. Our efforts have done no good. The ail is too deepseated. We must first minister to a mind diseased and pluck from theheart a rooted sorrow. You were right about it, Samson. We have beendreaming. Some one must invent a new system. Wildcat money will do nogood. These big financial problems are beyond my knowledge. I don't knowhow to think in those terms. Next session I propose to make a cleanbreast of it. We're all wrong but I fear that not all of us will be braveenough to say so. "

Samson hired horses for the journey and set out early next morning withhis son, Josiah, bound for the new city. The boy had begged to go andboth Samson and Sarah thought it would be good for him to take a betterlook at Illinois than his geography afforded. 

"Joe is a good boy, " his mother said as she embraced him. He was, indeed, a gentle-hearted, willing-handed, brown-eyed youth who had been a greathelp to his father. Every winter morning he and Betsey had done thechores and ridden on the back of Colonel to Mentor Graham's school wherethey had made excellent progress. 

Joe and his father set out on a cold clear morning in February. They gotto Brimstead's in time for dinner. 

"How d'y do?" Samson shouted as Henry came to the door. 

"Better!" the latter answered. He put his hand on, Samson's pommel andsaid in a confidential toner "El Dorado was one of the wickedest citiesin history. It was like Tyre and Babylon. It robbed me. Look at that pileof stakes. "

Samson saw a long cord of stakes along the road in the edge of themeadow. 

"They are the teeth of my city, " said Brimstead in a low voice. "I'vedrawed 'em out. They ain't goin' to bite me no more. "

"They are the towers and steeples of El Dorado, " Samson laughed. "Haveany of the notes been paid?"

"Not one and I can't get a word from my broker about the men who drew thenotes--who they are or where they are. "

"I'm going to Chicago and if you wish I'll try to find him and see whathe says. "

"That's just what I wish, " said Brimstead. "His name is Lionel Davis. Hisaddress is 14 South Water Street. He put the opium in our pipes here inTazewell County. It was his favorite county. He spent two days with ushere. I sold him all the land I had on the river shore and he gave me hisnote for it. "

"If you'll let me take the note I'll see what can be done to get themoney, " Samson answered. 

"Say, I'll tell ye, " Brimstead went on. "It's for five thousand dollarsand I don't suppose it's worth the paper it was wrote on. You take itand if you find it's no good you lose it just as careful as you can. Idon't want to see it again. Come into the house. The woman is making ajohnny-cake and fryin' some sausage. "

They had a happy half-hour at the table, Mrs. Brimstead being in betterspirits since her husband had got back to his farming. Annabel, her formfilling with the grace and charm of womanhood, was there and more comelythan ever. 

They had been speaking of Jack Kelso's death. 

"I heard him say once that when he saw a beautiful young face it remindedhim of noble singing and the odor of growing corn, " said Samson. 

"I'd rather see the face, " Joe remarked, whereupon they all laughed andthe boy blushed to the roots of his blond hair. 

"He's become a man of good judgment, " said Brimstead. 

Annabel's sister Jane who had clung to the wagon in No Santa Claus Landwas a bright-eyed, merry-hearted girl of twelve. The boy Robert was ashy, good-looking lad a little younger than Josiah. 

"Well, what's the news?" Samson asked. 

"Nothin' has happened since we saw you but the fall of El Dorado, "Brimstead answered. 

"There was the robbery of the mail stage last summer a few miles north ofhere, " said Mrs. Brimstead. "Every smitch of the mail was stolen. I guessthat's the reason we haven't had no letter from Vermont in a year. "

"Maybe that's why we haven't heard from home, " Samson echoed. 

"Why don't you leave Joe here while you're gone to Chicago?" Annabelasked. 

"It would help his education to rassle around with Robert an' the girls, "said Brimstead. 

"Would you like to stay?" Samson asked. 

"I wouldn't mind, " said Josiah who, on the lonely prairie, had had fewcompanions of his own age. So it happened that Samson went on alone. Ashe was leaving, Brimstead came close to his side and whispered:

"Don't you ever let a city move into you and settle down an' make itselfto home. If you do you want to keep your eye on its leading citizens. "

"Nobody can tell what'll happen when he's dreamin', " Samson remarked witha laugh as he rode away, waving his hand to the boy Josiah who stoodlooking up the road with a growing sense of loneliness. 

Near the sycamore woods Samson came upon a gray-haired man lying by theroadside with a horse tethered near him. The stranger was sick with afever. Samson got down from his horse. 

"What can I do for you?" he asked. 

"The will of God, " the stranger feebly answered. "I prayed for help andyou have come. I am Peter Cartwright, the preacher. I was so sick andweak I had to get off my horse and lie down. If you had not come I thinkthat I should have died here. "

Samson gave him some of the medicine for chills and fever which he alwayscarried in his pocket, and water from his canteen. The sun shone warm butthe ground was damp and cold and there was a chilly breeze. He wrappedthe stricken man in his coat and sat down beside him and rubbed hisaching head. 

"Is there any house where I could find help and shelter for you?" heasked presently. 

"No, but I feel better--glory to God!" said the preacher. "If you canhelp me to the back of my horse I will try to ride on with you. There isto be a quarterly meeting ten miles up the road to-night. With the helpof God I must get there and tell the people of His goodness and mercy tothe children of men. Nothing shall keep me from my duty. I may save adozen souls from hell--who knows?"

Samson was astonished at the iron will and holy zeal of thislion-hearted, strong-armed, fighting preacher of the prairies of whom hehad heard much. He looked at the rugged head covered with thick, bushy, gray hair, at the deep-lined face, smooth-shaven, save for a lock infront of each ear, with its keen, dark eyes and large, firm mouth andjaw. Samson lifted the preacher and set him on the back of his horse. 

"God blessed you with great strength, " said the latter. "Are you aChristian?"

"I am. "

They rode on in silence. Presently Samson observed that the preacher wasactually asleep and snoring in the saddle. They proceeded for an hour ormore in this manner. When the horses were wallowing through a swale thepreacher awoke. 

"Glory be to God!" he shouted. "I am better. I shall be able to preachto-night. A little farther on is the cabin of Brother Cawkins. He hasbeen terribly pecked up by a stiff-necked, rebellious wife. We'll stopthere for a cup of tea and if she raises a rumpus you'll see me take herby the horns. "

Mrs. Cawkins was a lean, sallow, stern-eyed woman of some forty yearswith a face like bitter herbs; her husband a mild mannered, shiftless manwho, encouraged by Mr. Cartwright, had taken to riding through the uppercounties as a preacher--a course of conduct of which his wife heartilydisapproved. Solicited by her husband she sullenly made tea for thetravelers. When it had been drunk the two preachers knelt in a corner ofthe room and Mr. Cartwright began to pray in a loud voice. Mrs. Cawkinsshoved the table about and tipped over the chairs and dropped therolling-pin as a counter demonstration. The famous circuit rider, beingin no way put out by this, she dashed a dipper of cold water on the headof her husband. The praying stopped. Mr. Cartwright rose from his kneesand commanded her to desist. On her declaration that she would not helaid hold of the woman and forced her out of the door and closed andbolted it and resumed his praying. 

Having recorded this remarkable incident in his diary Samson writes:

 * * * * *

"Many of these ignorant people in the lonely, prairie cabins are likechildren. Cartwright leads them on like a father and sometimes with thestrong hand. If any of them deserve a spanking they get it. He and otherslike him have helped to keep the cabin people clean and going up hillinstead of down. They have established schools and missions and scatteredgood books and comforted sorrows and kindled good desire in the hearts ofthe humble. "

 * * * * *

As they were leaving Mr. Cawkins told them that the plague had broken outin the settlement on Honey Creek, where the quarterly meeting was to beheld, and that the people had been rapidly "dyin' off. " Samson knew fromthis that the smallpox--a dreaded and terrible scourge of pioneer dayshad come again. 

"It's dangerous to go there, " said Cawkins. 

"Where is sorrow there is my proper place, " Cartwright answered. "Thosepeople need comfort and the help of God. "

"But are you not afraid of the plague?" Samson asked. 

"I fear only the wrath of my Master. "

"I got a letter from a lady there, " Cawkins went on. "As nigh as I canmake out they need a minister. I can read print handy but writin' bothersme. You read it, brother. "

Mr. Cartwright took the letter and read as follows:

 * * * * *

"Dear Sir: Mr. Barman gave me your name. We need a minister to comfortthe sick and help bury the dead. It is a good deal to ask of you but ifyou feel like taking the chance of coming here I am sure you could do alot of good. We have doctors enough and it seems a pity that the churchshould fail these people when they need it most. The ministers in Chicagoseem to be too busy to come. One of them came out for a funeral andunfortunately took the disease. If you have the courage to come you wouldwin the gratitude of many people. For a month I have been taking care ofthe sick and up to now no harm has come to me. 

Yours respectfully, "Bim Kelso. "

 * * * * *

"'A man's heart deviseth his way but the Lord directeth his steps, '" saidCartwright. "For three days I have felt that He was leading me. "

"I begin to think that He has been leading me, " Samson declared. "BimKelso is the person I seek. "

"I would have gone but my wife took on so I couldn't get away, " saidCawkins. 

"I'll come back some day soon and you and I will pry the Devil out of herwith the crowbar of God's truth and mercy, " Cartwright assured him as heand Samson took the road to the north. 

On their way to the Honey Creek settlement the lion-hearted minister toldof swimming through flooded rivers, getting lost on the plains andsuffering for food and water, of lying down to rest at night in wetclothes with no shelter but the woods, of hand to hand fights withrowdies who endeavored to sell drink or create a disturbance at hismeetings. Such was the zeal for righteousness woven by many hands intothe fabric of the West. A little before sundown they reached thesettlement. 

Samson asked a man in the road if he knew where they could find the nurseBim Kelso. 

"Do ye mean that angel o' God in a white dress that takes keer o' thesick?" the man asked. 

"I guess that would be Bim, " said Samson. 

"She's over in yon' house, " the other answered, pointing with his pipe toa cabin some twenty rods beyond them. "Thar's two children sick thar an'the mammy dead an' buried in the ground. "

"Is the plague getting worse?" Cartwright asked. 

"No, I reckon it's better. Nobody has come down since the day beforeyestiddy. Thar's the doctor comin'. He kin tell ye. "

A bearded man of middle age was approaching them in the saddle. 

"Gentlemen, you must not stop in this neighborhood, " he warned them. "There's an epidemic of smallpox here. We are trying to control it andevery one must help. "

"I am Peter Cartwright, the preacher sent of God to comfort the sick andbury the dead, " said Samson's companion. 

"We welcome you, but if you stop here you will have to stay until theepidemic is over. "

"That I am prepared to do. "

"Then I shall take you where you can find entertainment, such as it is. "

"First, this man wishes to speak to Miss Kelso, the nurse, " saidCartwright. "He is a friend of hers. "

"You can see her but only at a distance, " the Doctor answered. "I mustkeep you at least twenty feet away from her. Come with me. "

They proceeded to the stricken house. The Doctor entered and presentlyBim came out. Her eyes filled with tears and for a moment she could notspeak. She wore a white dress and cap and was pale and weary. "But stillas I looked at her I thought of the saying of her father that her formand face reminded him of the singing of birds in the springtime, shelooked so sweet and graceful, " Samson writes in his diary. 

"Why didn't you let me know of your troubles?" he asked. 

"Early last summer I wrote a long letter to you, " she answered. 

"It didn't reach me. One day in June the stage was robbed of its maildown in Tazewell County. Your letter was probably on that stage. "

"Harry's death was the last blow. I came out here to get away from mytroubles--perhaps to die. I didn't care. "

"Harry is not dead, " said Samson. 

Her right hand touched her forehead; her lips fell apart; her eyes tookon a look of tragic earnestness. 

"Not dead!" she whispered. 

"He is alive and well. "

Bim staggered toward him and fell to her knees and lay crouched upon theground, in the dusky twilight, shaking and choked with sobs, and withtears streaming from her eyes but she was almost as silent as the shadowof the coming night. She looked like one searching in the dust forsomething very precious. The strong heart of Samson was touched by thesorrowful look of her so that he could not speak. 

Soon he was able to say in a low, trembling voice:

"In every letter he tells of his love for you. That article in the paperwas a cruel mistake. "

After a little silence Bim rose from the ground. She stood, for a moment, wiping her eyes. Her form straightened and was presently erect. Her soulresented the injustice she had suffered. There was a wonderful andtouching dignity in her voice and manner when she asked: "Why didn't hewrite to me?"

"He must have written to you. "

Sadly, calmly, thoughtfully, she spoke as she stood looking off at thefading glow in the west:

"It is terrible how things can work together to break the heart and willof a woman. Write to Harry and tell him that he must not come to see meagain. I have promised to marry another man. "

"I hope it isn't Davis, " said Samson. 

"It is Davis. "

"I don't like him. I don't think he's honest. "

"But he has been wonderfully kind to us. Without his help we couldn'thave lived. We couldn't even have given my father a decent burial. Isuppose he has his faults. I no longer look for perfection in humanbeings. "

"Has he been out here to see you?"

"And he won't come. That man knows how to keep out of danger. I don'tbelieve you'll marry him. "

"Why?"

"Because I intend to be a father to you and pay all your debts, " saidSamson. 

The Doctor called from the door of the cabin. 

Bim said: "God bless you and Harry!" as she turned away to take up hertask again. 

That night both of them began, as they say, to put two and two together. While he rode on in the growing dusk the keen intellect of Samson saw aconvincing sequence of circumstances--the theft of the mail sack, thefalse account of Harry's death, the failure of his letters to reach theirdestination, and the fact that Bim had accepted money from Davis in timeof need. A strong suspicion of foul play grew upon him and he began toconsider what he could do in the matter. 

Having forded a creek he caught the glow of a light in the darkness alittle way up the road. It was the lighted window of a cabin, beforewhose door he stopped his horse and hallooed. 

"I am a belated and hungry traveler on my way to Chicago, " he said to theman who presently greeted him from the open doorway. 

"Have you come through Honey Creek settlement?" the latter asked. 

"Left there about an hour ago. "

"Sorry, mister, but I can't let you come into the house. If you'll moveoff a few feet I'll lay some grub on the choppin' block an' up the roadabout a half-mile you'll find a barn with some hay in it where you andyour horse can spend the night under cover. "

Samson moved away and soon the man brought a package of food and laid iton the block and ran back to the door. 

"I'll lay a piece of silver on the block, " Samson called. 

"Not a darned cent, " the man answered. "I hate like p'ison to turn afeller away in the night, but we're awful skeered here with children inthe house. Good-by. You can't miss the barn. It's close ag'in' the road. "

Samson ate his luncheon in the darkness, as he rode, and presently cameupon the barn and unsaddled and hitched and fed his horse in one endof it--the beast having drunk his fill at the creek they had latelyforded--and lay down to rest, for the night, with the saddle blanketbeneath him and his coat for a cover. A wind from the north began to wailand whistle through the cracks in the barn and over its roof bringingcold weather. Samson's feet and legs had been wet in the crossing so thathe found it difficult to keep warm. He crept to the side of his horse, which had lain down, and found a degree of comfort in the heat of theanimal. But it was a bad night, at best, with only a moment, now andthen, of a sort of one-eyed sleep in it. 

"I've had many a long, hard night but this is the worst of them, " Samsonthought. 

There's many a bad night in the history of the pioneers, its shadowsfalling on lonely, ill-marked roads cut by rivers, creeks and marshesand strung through unnumbered miles of wild country. Samson was up andoff at daylight in a bitter wind and six inches of snow. It was a kindof work he would not have undertaken upon any call less commanding thanthat of friendship. He reached Chicago at noon having had nothing to eatthat day. There was no such eager, noisy crowd in the streets as he hadseen before. The fever of speculation had passed. Some of the storeswere closed; he counted a score of half-built structures gettingweather-stained inside and out. But there were many people on the mainthoroughfares, among whom were Europeans who had arrived the autumnbefore. They were changing but the marks of the yoke were still uponthem. In Chicago were the vitals of the West and they were very muchalive in spite of the panic. 

Samson bought some new clothes and had a bath and a good dinner at theCity Hotel. Then he went to the office of Mr. Lionel Davis. There to hissurprise he met his old acquaintance, Eli Fredenberg, who greeted himwith great warmth and told of having settled in Chicago. 

A well-dressed young man came out of an inner office and informed Elithat Mr. Davis could not see him that day. 

"I'd like to see Mr. Davis, " said Samson as Eli went away. 

"I'm Mr. Davis's secretary, " the young man politely informed him. 

"What's a secretary?" Samson asked. 

"It's a man who helps another with his work. "

"I don't need any help myself--thank you, " said Samson. "You tell himthat I've got some money that belongs to him and that I'm ready todeliver it. "

The young man disappeared through the door of the private office and soonreturned and conducted Samson into the presence of Mr. Davis who sat ata handsome desk, smoking, in a room with fine old mahogany furnishingsbrought up from New Orleans. The two men recognized each other. 

"Well, sir, what is it about?" the young speculator demanded. 

"The daughter of my old friend, Jack Kelso, owes you some money and Iwant to pay it, " said Samson. 

"Oh, that is a matter between Miss Kelso and me. " Mr. Davis spokepolitely and with a smile. 

"Not exactly--since I knew about it, " Samson answered. 

"I refuse to discuss her affairs with you, " Davis declared. 

"I suppose you mistrust me, " said Samson. "Well, I've offered to pay youand I'm going to make it plain to them that they don't have to worry anymore about the money you loaned them. "

"Very well, I bid you good morning. "

"Don't be in a hurry, " Samson answered. "I have a note of five thousanddollars against you. It is endorsed to me by Henry Brimstead and I wantto collect it. "

"I refuse to pay it, " Davis promptly answered. 

"Then I shall have to put it in the hands of a lawyer, " said Samson. 

"Put it where you like but don't consume any more of my time. "

"But you'll have to hear me say that I don't think you're honest. "

"I have heard you, " Davis answered calmly. 

Samson withdrew and went to the home of Mrs. Kelso. He found her withBim's boy in her lap--a handsome little lad, then a bit over two yearsold, --at the house on La Salle Street. The good woman gave Samson anaccount of the year filled with tearful praise of the part Mr. Davis hadplayed in it. Samson told of the failure of Bim's letter to reach him andof his offer to return the money which Davis had paid for their relief. 

"I don't like the man and I don't want you to be under obligation tohim, " said Samson. "The story of Harry's death was false and I think thathe is responsible for it. He wanted her to marry him right away afterthat--of course. And she went to the plague settlement to avoid marriage. I know her better than you do. She has read him right. Her soul haslooked into his soul and it keeps her away from him. "

But Mrs. Kelso could believe no evil of her benefactor, nor would shepromise to cease depending on his bounty. 

Samson was a little disheartened by the visit. He Went to see JohnWentworth, the editor of _The Democrat_, of whose extreme length Mr. Lincoln had humorously spoken in his presence. The young New Englanderwas seven feet tall. He welcomed the broad-shouldered man from SangamonCounty and began at once to question him about Honest Abe and "Steve"Douglas and O. H. Browning and E. D. Baker and all the able men of themiddle counties. Then he wanted to know of the condition of the peoplesince the collapse of the land boom. The farmer's humorous comment andsane views delighted the young editor. At the first opportunity Samsoncame to the business of his call--the mischievous lie regarding Harry'sdeath which had appeared in _The Democrat_. Mr. Wentworth went to theproof room and found the manuscript of the article. 

"We kept it because we didn't know and do not now know the writer, " saidWentworth. 

Samson told of the evil it had wrought and conveyed his suspicions to theeditor. 

"Davis is rather unscrupulous, " said Wentworth. "We know a lot about himin this office. "

Samson looked at the article and presently said: "Here is a note that hegave to a friend of mine. It looks to me as if the note and the articlewere written by the same hand. "

Mr. Wentworth compared the two and said: "You are right. The same personwrote them. But it was not Davis. "

When Samson left the office of _The Democrat_ he had accomplished littlesave the confirmation of his suspicions. There was nothing he could doabout it. 

He went to Eli Fredenberg. Eli, having sold out at the height of the boomin Springfield, had been back to Germany to visit his friends. 

"I haf money--plendy money, " said Eli. "In de ol' country I vas rich. Ithought maybe I stay dere an' make myself happy. It vas one big job. Meinfrients dey hate me becos I haf succeed so much. De odders hate me becosde butcher haf mein fadder been. Dey laugh at my good close. Nobody likesme not. I come avay. Dey don't blame you here becos you vos born. "

"What has Davis done to you?" Samson asked, recalling where he had metEli that morning. 

Eli explained that he had borrowed money from Davis to tide him over thehard times and was paying twelve per cent. For it. 

"Dis morning I get dot letter from his secretary, " he said as he passeda letter to Samson. 

It was a demand for payment in the handwriting of the Brimstead note andhad some effect on this little history. It conveyed definite knowledge ofthe authorship of a malicious falsehood. It aroused the anger andsympathy of Samson Traylor. In the conditions then prevailing Eli wasunable to get the money. He was in danger of losing his business. Samsonspent a day investigating the affairs of the merchant. His banker andothers spoke well of him. He was said to be a man of character and creditembarrassed by the unexpected scarcity of good money. So it came aboutthat, before he left the new city, Samson bought a fourth interest in thebusiness of Eli Fredenberg. The lots he owned were then worth less thanwhen he had bought them, but his faith in the future of Chicago had notabated. 

He wrote a long letter to Bim recounting the history of his visit andfrankly stating the suspicions to which he had been led. He set out onthe west road at daylight toward the Riviere des Plaines, having wiselydecided to avoid passing the plague settlement. Better weather had come. In the sunlight of a clear sky he fared away over the vast prairies, feeling that it was a long road ahead and a most unpromising visit behindhim. 

CHAPTER XXI

WHEREIN A REMARKABLE SCHOOL OF POLITICAL SCIENCE BEGINS ITS SESSIONS INTHE REAR OF JOSHUA SPEED'S STORE. ALSO AT SAMSON'S FIRESIDE HONEST ABETALKS OF THE AUTHORITY OF THE LAW AND THE RIGHT OF REVOLUTION, AND LATERBRINGS A SUIT AGAINST LIONEL DAVIS. 

The boy Joe had had a golden week at the home of the Brimsteads. The fairAnnabel knowing not the power that lay in her beauty had captured hisyoung heart scarcely fifteen years of age. He had no interest in heryounger sister, Jane. But Annabel with her long skirts and full form andglowing eyes and gentle dignity had stirred him to the depths. When heleft he carried a soul heavy with regret and great resolutions. Not thathe had mentioned the matter to her or to any one. It was a thing toosacred for speech. To God in his prayers he spoke of it but to no other. 

He asked to be made and to be thought worthy. He would have had the wholeworld stopped and put to sleep for a term until he was delivered from thebondage of his tender youth. That being impossible it was for him a sadbut not a hopeless world. Indeed he rejoiced in his sadness. Annabel wasfour years older than he. If he could make her to know the depth of hispassion perhaps she would wait for him. He sought for self-expression in_The Household Book of Poetry_--a sorrowful and pious volume. He couldfind no ladder of rhyme with an adequate reach. He endeavored to buildone. He wrote melancholy verses and letters, confessing his passion, toAnnabel, which she did not encourage but which she always kept and valuedfor their ingenuous and noble ardor. Some of these Anacreontics are amongthe treasures inherited by her descendants. They were a matter of slightimportance, one would say, but they mark the beginning of a great career. Immediately after his return to the new home in Springfield the boyJosiah set out to make himself honored of his ideal. In the effort hemade himself honored of many. His eager brain had soon taken the footingof manhood. 

A remarkable school of political science had begun its sessions in thatlittle western village. The world had never seen the like of it. AbrahamLincoln, Stephen A. Douglas, E. D. Baker, O. H. Browning, Jesse B. Thomas, and Josiah Lamborn--a most unusual array of talent as subsequent historyhas proved--were wont to gather around the fireplace in the rear ofJoshua Speed's store, evenings, to discuss the issues of the time. Samsonand his son Joe came often to hear the talk. Douglas looked like a dwarfamong those long geared men. He was slight and short, being only aboutfive feet tall, but he had a big, round head covered with thick, straight, dark hair, a bull-dog look and a voice like thunder. The firststeamboat had crossed the Atlantic the year before and The Future ofTransportation was one of the first themes discussed by this remarkablegroup of men. Douglas and Lincoln were in a heated argument over theadmission of slavery to the territories the first night that Samson andJoe sat down with them. 

"We didn't like that little rooster of a man, he had such a high andmighty way with him and so frankly opposed the principles we believe in. He was an out and out pro-slavery man. He would have every state free toregulate its domestic institutions, in its own way, subject only to theConstitution of the United States. Lincoln held that it amounted tosaying 'that if one man chose to enslave another no third party shall beallowed to object. '"

In the course of the argument Douglas alleged that the Whigs were thearistocrats of the country. 

"That reminds me of a night when I was speaking at Havana, " said HonestAbe. "A man with a ruffled shirt and a massive gold watch chain got upand charged that the Whigs were aristocrats. Douglas in his broadclothand fine linen reminds me of that man. I'm going to answer Douglas as Ianswered him. Most of the Whigs I know are my kind of folks. I was a poorboy working on a flat boat at eight dollars a month and had only one pairof breeches and they were buckskin. If you know the nature of buckskin, you know that when it is wet and dried by the sun it will shrink and mybreeches kept shrinking and deserting the sock area of my legs untilseveral inches of them were bare above my shoes. Whilst I was growinglonger they were growing shorter and so much tighter that they left ablue streak around my legs which can be seen to this day. If you callthat aristocracy I know of one Whig that is an aristocrat. "

"But look at the New England type of Whig exemplified by the imperiousand majestic Webster, " said Douglas. 

"Webster was another poor lad, " Lincoln answered. "His father's home wasa log cabin in a lonely land until about the time Daniel was born whenthe family moved to a small frame house. His is the majesty of a greatintellect. "

There was much talk of this sort until Mr. Lincoln excused himself towalk home with his two friends who had just returned from the North, being eager to learn of Samson's visit. The latter gave him a fullaccount of it and asked him to undertake the collection of Brimstead'snote. 

"I'll get after that fellow right away, " said Lincoln. 

"I'm glad to get a chance at one of those men who have been skinning thefarmers. I suppose he has other creditors in Tazewell County?"

"I presume there are many of them. "

"I'll find out about that, " said Lincoln. 

They sat down by the fireside in Samson's house. 

"Joe has decided that he wants to be a lawyer, " said Samson. 

"Well, Joe, we'll all do what we can to keep you from being a shot-gunlawyer, " Abe Lincoln began. "I've got a good first lesson for you. Ifound it in a letter which Rufus Choate had written to Judge Davis. Init he says that we rightly have great respect for the decisions of themajority, but that the law is something vastly greater and more sacredthan the verdict of any majority. 'It is a thing, ' says he, 'which hasstood the test of long experience--a body of digested rules and processesbequeathed to us by all the ages of the past. The inspired wisdom of theprimeval east, the robust genius of Athens and Rome, the keener modernsense of righteousness are in it. The law comes down to us one mighty andcontinuous stream of wisdom and experience accumulated, ancestral, widening and deepening and washing itself clearer as it runs on, theagent of civilization, the builder of a thousand cities. To have livedthrough ages of unceasing trial with the passions, interests, and affairsof men, to have lived through the drums and tramplings of conquest, through revolution and reform and all the changing cycles of opinion, tohave attended the progress of the race and gathered unto itself theapprobation of civilized humanity is to have proved that it carries init some spark of immortal life. '"

The face of Lincoln changed as he recited the lines of the learned anddistinguished lawyer of Massachusetts. 

"His face glowed like a lighted lantern when he began to say thoseeloquent words, " Samson writes in his diary. "He wrote them down so thatJosiah could commit them to memory. "

"That is a wonderful statement, " Samson remarked. 

Abe answered: "It suggests to me that the voice of the people in any onegeneration may or may not be inspired, but that the voice of the best menof all ages, expressing their sense of justice and of right, in the law, is and must be the voice of God. The spirit and body of its decrees areas indestructible as the throne of Heaven. You can overthrow them butuntil their power is reestablished as surely it will be, you will livein savagery. "

"You do not deny the right of revolution. "

"No, but I can see no excuse for it in America. It has remained for us toadd to the body of the law the idea that men are created free and equal. The lack of that saving principle in the codes of the world has been thegreat cause of injustice and oppression. The voice of revolution herewould be like that of Iago in the play and worse. It would be like theunscrupulous lawyer, anxious for a fee, who says to a client, livinghappily with his wife: 'I know she is handsome and virtuous andintelligent and loving but she has her faults. There are lovelier women. I could easily get a divorce for you. ' We would quickly throw such a manout of the door. A man's country is like his wife. If she is virtuous andwell-disposed he should permit no meddling, odious person to come betweenthem, or to suggest to him that he put poison into her tea. Least of allshould he look for perfection in her, knowing that it is not to be foundin this world of ours. "

Honest Abe rose and walked up and down the room in silence for a moment. Then he added:

"Choate phrased it well when he said 'We should beware of awaking thetremendous divinities of change from their long sleep. Let us think ofthat when we consider what we shall do with the evils that afflict us. '"

The boy Joe has been deeply interested in this talk. 

"If you'll lend me a book I'd like to begin studying, " he said. 

"There's time enough for that, " said Lincoln. "First I want you tounderstand what the law is and what the lawyer should be. You wouldn'twant to be a pettifogger. Choate is the right model. He has a dignitysuited to the greatness of his chosen master. They say that before aJustice of the Peace in a room no bigger than a shoemaker's shop his workis done with the same dignity and care that he would show in the supremecourt of Massachusetts. A newspaper says that in a dog case at Beverly hetreated the dog as if he were a lion and the crabbed old squire with theconsideration due a chief justice. "

"He knows how to handle the English language, " Samson observed. 

"He got that by reading. He is the best read man at the American bar andthe best Bible student. There's a lot of work ahead of you, Joe, beforeyou are a lawyer and when you're admitted success comes only of thecapacity for work. Brougham wrote the peroration of his speech in defenseof Queen Caroline nineteen times. "

"I want to be a great orator, " the boy exclaimed with engaging frankness. 

"Then you must remember that character is the biggest part of it, " HonestAbe declared. "Great thoughts come out of a great character and only outof that. They will come even if you have little learning and none of thegraces which attract the eye. But you must have a character that is everspeaking even when your lips are silent. It must show in your life andfill the spaces between your words. It will help you to choose and chargethem with the love of great things that carry conviction. 

"I remember when I was a boy over in Gentryville a shaggy, plain-dressedman rode up to the door one day. He had a cheerful, kindly face. Hischaracter began to speak to us before he opened his mouth to ask for adrink of water. 

"'I don't know who you are, ' my father said. 'But I'd like it awful wellif you'd light an' talk to us. ' He did and we didn't know till he hadgone that he was the Governor of the state. A good character shines likea candle on a dark night. You can't mistake it. A firefly can't hold hislight long enough to compete with it. 

"Webster said in the Knapp trial: 'There is no evil that we can noteither face or fly from but the consciousness of duty disregarded. '

"A great truth like that makes wonderful music on the lips of a sincereman. An orator must be a lover and discoverer of such unwritten laws. "

It was nearing midnight when they heard footsteps on the board walk infront of the house. In a moment Harry Needles entered in cavalry uniformwith fine top boots and silver spurs, erect as a young Indian brave andbronzed by tropic suns. 

"Hello!" he said as he took off his belt and clanking saber. "I hang upmy sword. I have had enough of war. "

He had ridden across country from the boat landing and arriving so latehad left his horse at a livery stable. 

"I'm lucky to find you and Abe and Joe all up and waiting for me, " hesaid as he shook their hands "How is mother?"

"I'm well, " Sarah called from the top of the stairway. "I'll be down ina minute. "

For an hour or more they sat by the fireside while Harry told of hisadventures in the great swamps of Southern Florida. 

"I've done my share of the fighting, " he said at length. "I'm going northto-morrow to find Bim and her mother. "

"I shall want you to serve a complaint on one Lionel Davis, " said Mr. Lincoln. 

"I have one of my own to serve on him, " Harry answered. "But I hope thatour case can be settled out of court. "

"I think that I'll go with you as far as Tazewell County and draw thepapers there, " said Lincoln. 

When the latter had left for his lodgings and Joe and his mother had goneto bed, Samson told Harry the details of his visit to Chicago. 

"She may have taken the disease and died with it before now, " said theyoung man. "I'll be on my way to Honey Creek in the morning. If she'ssick I'll take care of her. I'm not going to worry about Davis. But whenI get there I wouldn't wonder if he'd have to worry a little about me. "

CHAPTER XXII

WHEREIN ABE LINCOLN REVEALS HIS METHOD OF CONDUCTING A LAWSUIT IN THECASE OF HENRY BRIMSTEAD ET AL. , VS. LIONEL DAVIS. 

They found many of Davis's notes in Tazewell County. Abe Lincoln'scomplaint represented seven clients and a sum exceeding twenty thousanddollars. 

"Now, Harry, you don't like Davis and I can't blame you for it, " saidHonest Abe before they parted. "Don't spoil our case by trying to take itout of his hide. First we've got to take it out of his pocket. When I getthrough there may not be any hide on him worth speaking of, but if thereis you can have it and welcome. "

With the papers in his pocket Harry went on to the Honey Creeksettlement. There he found that the plague had spent itself and that Bimhad gone to a detention camp outside the city of Chicago. He rode on tothe camp but was not permitted to see her, the regulations having becomevery strict. In the city he went to the store of Eli Fredenberg. Themerchant received him with enthusiasm. Chicago had begun to recover fromthe panic. Trade was lively. Eli wanted Harry to go to work in the storeuntil he was prepared for the law. 

"You must stay here until you haf got a wife already, " said thethoughtful Eli. "It is bat for you and Bim to be not marrit so much. "

The young man favored both the commercial and the sentimental suggestionsof Eli. He had long felt the lure of that promising little city on thelake shore. 

"I wish you'd take this complaint and serve it on Davis, " he said. "Idon't want to see him if I can help it. If you don't mind, you can tellhim that I've come to life and am here in the city and that if he killsme again he'd better do it while I'm looking. It would be more decent. "

Eli was delighted with a task which promised a degree of discomfort tothe man who had endeavored to ruin him. Harry spent the afternoon withMrs. Kelso and Bim's baby boy. The good woman was much excited by thearrival of the young soldier. 

"We have had a terrible year, " she said. "We couldn't have lived throughit without the help of a friend. Bim went away to take care of the sickin the smallpox neighborhood. She was rather discouraged. Our friend, Mr. Davis, is in love with her. She promised to marry him. It seemed to bethe only way out of our troubles. But she will not even write to himnow. I think that she is very unhappy. "

"I shall not try to increase her troubles, but I shall prevent her frommarrying Davis if I can, " said Harry. 

"Why?"

"Because I think he is dishonest. "

"He has convinced me that all the reports are wrong, " Mrs. Kelsodeclared. "I think that he is one of the kindest and best of men. "

"I shall not argue with you as to the character of my rival, " Harryanswered. "The facts will be on record one of these days and then you canform your own judgment. I hope you won't mind my coming here to see youand the baby now and then. "

"You are always welcome. But Mr. Davis comes often and feeling as you doit might be unpleasant for you to meet him. "

"It would. I'll keep away until the air clears, " said Harry. 

He wrote a very tender letter to Bim that day. He told her that he hadcome to Chicago to live so that he might be near her and ready to helpher if she needed help. "The same old love is in my heart that made mewant you for my wife long ago, that has filled my letters and sustainedme in many an hour of peril, " he wrote. "If you really think that youmust marry Davis, I ask you at least to wait for the developments of asuit which Abe Lincoln is bringing in behalf of many citizens of TazewellCounty. It is likely that we shall know more than we do now before thatcase ends. I saw your beautiful little boy. He looks so much like youthat I long to steal him and keep him with me. "

In a few days he received this brief reply:

 * * * * *

"Dear Harry: Your letter pleased and pained me. I have been so tossedabout that I don't know quite where I stand. My brain is like a bridgethat has been washed out by floods. I am picking up the fragments andtrying to rebuild it. For a long time my life has been nothing but aseries of emotions. What Honest Abe may be able to prove I know not, butI am sure that he can not disprove the fact that Mr. Davis has been kindand generous to me. For that I can not ever cease to be grateful. Ishould have married him before now but for one singular circumstance. My little boy can not be made to like him. He will have nothing to dowith Mr. Davis. He will not be bribed or coerced. Time and kindness donot seem to diminish his dislike. My soul has been drugged with argumentand--I can not help saying it--bribed with favors. But the boy has beensteadfast. He has kept his frankness and honesty. I saw in this aprophecy of trouble. I left home and went down into the very shadow ofdeath. It may be that we have been saved for each other by the wisdom ofchildhood. I must not see you now. Nor shall I see him until I have foundmy way. Even your call can not make me forget that I am under a solemnpromise. I must keep it without much more delay unless something happensto release me. 

"I'm glad you like the boy. He is a wonderful child. I named him Nehemiahfor his grandfather. We call him Nim and sometimes 'Mr. Nimble' becausehe is so lively. I'm homesick to see him and you. I am going to Dixon toteach and earn money for mother and the baby. Don't tell any one where Iam and above all don't come to see me until in good heart I can ask youto come. 

"God bless you!

"Bim. "

 * * * * *

In a few weeks the suit came on. It was tried in the new brickCourt-House in Chicago. Davis's defense, as given in the answer, allegedthat the notes were to be paid out of the proceeds of the sale of lotsand that in consequence of the collapse of the boom there had been nosuch proceeds. His claim was supported by the testimony of his secretaryand another and by certain letters of his, promising payment as soon asthe land was sold, and by letters from the plaintiffs allowing thatgrace. As to the understanding upon which the notes were drawn, there wasa direct issue of veracity for which Abe Lincoln was exceedingly wellprepared. He had gained possession of many facts in the history of theyoung speculator, including the important one that he had been convictedof fraud in New Orleans. Mr. Lincoln's cross-examination was as mercilessas sunlight "falling round a helpless thing. " It was kindly and polite intone but relentless in its searching. When it ended, the weight ofDavis's character had been accurately established. In his masterlysumming up Mr. Lincoln presented every circumstance in favor of thedefendant's position. With remarkable insight he anticipated thearguments of his attorney. He presented them fairly and generously to thecourt and jury. According to Samson the opposing lawyers admitted in aprivate talk that Lincoln had thought of presumptions in favor of Daviswhich had not occurred to them. Therein lay the characteristic of Mr. Lincoln's method in a lawsuit. 

 * * * * *

"It was a safe thing for him to do for he never took a case in whichjustice was not clearly on his side, " Samson writes. "If he had beendeceived as to the merits of a case he would drop it. With the swordof justice in his hand he was invincible. "

 * * * * *

First he put the thing to be weighed on the scale fully and fairly. Then, one by one, he put the units of gravity on the other side so that thecourt and jury saw the turning of the balance. 

He covered the point at issue with a few words "every one of which drewblood, " to quote a phrase from the diary. He showed that the validity ofsuch claims rested wholly on the character of the man who made them, especially when they were opposed to the testimony of people whosehonesty had been questioned only by that man. 

"Now as to the secretary, " said Mr. Lincoln, "I honestly regret that hehas disagreed with himself. A young man ought not to disagree withhimself as to the truth and especially when he contradicts the oath ofwitnesses whom we have no reason to discredit. I want to be kind to himon account of his youth. He reminds me of the young man who hired out toa Captain in Gloucester and shipped for the China coast and learnedpresently that he was on a pirate vessel. He had been a young man of goodintentions but he had to turn to and help the business along. When theship was captured he said:

"I didn't want to be a pirate, but there was only one kind o' politics onthat ship and the majority was so large I thought that the vote might aswell be unanimous. At first I was in favor of reform but the walkin' wasthat bad I had to decide between a harp and a cutlass. '

"This parable serves to illustrate the history of most young men who fallinto bad company. The walking becomes more or less bad for them. They getinto the bondage of Fear. We know not how it may have influenced theaction of Cap'n Davis's First Mate. Probably since the hard times began, the walking has looked bad to him but still there was walking. I am sorryit must be said that there was walking and I hope that he will now makesome use of it. "

He did and in time confessed to Samson Traylor that Mr. Lincoln'sreproach had been the saving of him. A judgment was rendered in favor ofthe plaintiffs for the full amount of their claim with costs. Thecharacter of Lionel Davis had been sufficiently revealed. Even thecredulous Mrs. Kelso turned against him. Mr. Lincoln's skill as a lawyerwas recognized in the north as well as in the middle counties. Fromthat day forth no man enjoyed a like popularity in Tazewell County. 

When Samson and Harry Needles left the Court-House, there seemed to be noobstacle between the young man and the consummation of his wishes. Unfortunately, as they were going down the steps Davis, who blamed Samsonfor his troubles, flung an insult at the sturdy Vermonter. Samson, whohad then arrived at years of firm discretion, was little disturbed by theanger of a man so discredited. But Harry, on the sound of the hatefulwords, had leaped forward and dealt the speculator a savage blow in theface which for a few seconds had deprived him of the power of speech. That evening a friend of Davis called at the City Hall with a challenge. The hot-blooded young soldier accepted it against the urgent counsel ofSamson Traylor, Mr. Lincoln having left the city. It was a fashion of thetime for gentlemen to stand up and shoot at each other after such aquarrel. But Davis, since the trial, had no character to defend andtherefore no right to enter the field of honor with a man of Harry'sstanding. But the young officer had promised to fight and was not to bedissuaded. 

As to the details of the tragic scene that followed next day, thewriter has little knowledge. Samson was not the type of man for sucha chronicle. The diary speaks of his part in it with shame and sorrowand remorse. His mind seems to have been too much engaged with its ownfears and thoughts to take note of the color. We may infer from oneremark in it that the sky was clear. We know, too, that it wasat day-break when he and Harry rode to a point on the prairie "somethingmore than a mile from the city limits. " There he tells us they met Davisand one friend of the latter and two surgeons who had driven to the scenein a box wagon. It is evident, too, that great secrecy had been observedin the plan and its execution and that, until sometime after the lastact, Lincoln knew nothing of the later developments in the drama ofDavis's downfall. For the rest of the deplorable scene the historian mustcontent himself with the naked details in the diary of a puritan pioneer. They are, at least, direct and derive a certain vividness from theirhaste to be done with it as a proceeding of which the less said thebetter. 

 * * * * *

"I went because there was no escape from it and with the shadow of God'swrath in my soul, " Samson writes. "The sun rose as we halted our horses. We paced the field. The two men took their places twenty yards apart. Harry was a little pale but he stood up as straight and steady as ahitching post. The pistols rang out at the command to fire and both menfell. Davis had been hit in the left shoulder. My handsome boy lay on hisface. The bullet had bored through his right lung. Before I could reachhim he had risen to his feet ready to go on with the battle. Davis laylike one paralyzed by the shock of the bullet. His seconds declared theywere satisfied. The surgeons began their work. I saw them take the bulletout of Harry's back where it had lodged under his skin. I helped them putthe wounded men into the wagon and rode to the house of one of thedoctors near the city wherein were rooms for the accommodation ofcritical cases, leading Harry's horse and praying for God's help andforgiveness. I took care of the boy until Steve Nuckles came to help me. Bim arrived when Harry was out of his head and didn't know her. She wasdetermined to stay and do the nursing but I wouldn't let her. She did notlook strong. I loaned her the money to pay the debt to Davis andpersuaded her to go back to her work in Dixon. She went and was ratherheart-broken about it. 

"As she was leaving she looked into my face and said: 'Don't tell him orany one what has happened to me. I want to tell him. '

"I promised to keep her secret and did it. Soon I learned that she wasdown sick of her worries. I sent her mother to her and kept the small boywith me. 

"The surgeon said that Harry would live if lung fever didn't set in. Itset in but he pulled through. He mended slowly. I had some fear of arrestbut the conspiracy of silence kept the facts under cover. It was partlydue, I guess, to the friendship of John Wentworth for me and Honest Abe. He kept it out of the papers. There were no complaints and the rumorssoon fell into silence. I spent about six weeks at Harry's bedside and inthe store which has begun to prosper. 

"The boy, 'Mr. Nimble, ' is a cunning little man. When he began to getbetter, Harry loved to play with him and listen to his talk aboutfairies. The young man was able to leave his bed, by and by, but hedidn't get over his weakness and pallor. He had no appetite. I sent himwith Nuckles into the Wisconsin woods to live in the open. Then I tookthe small boy to Dixon with me in the saddle. Bim had just got back toher work. She was distressed by the news of Harry's condition. 

"'I fear he has got his death-blow, ' she said with a sad look in herface. 'I had hoped that we could be married this autumn. But somethingcomes between us always. First it was my folly and now it is his folly. It seems as if we hadn't sense enough to get married when there's nothingin the way of it. '

"She told me that Eliphalet Biggs had been there. He had heard of the boyand wished to see him and demanded to know where he was. For fear thatBiggs would try to get possession of 'Mr. Nimble' I took him with me toSpringfield in the saddle. 

"I learn that Davis has recovered his health and left the city. A man cannot do business without friends and after the trial Chicago was no placefor him. "

CHAPTER XXIII

WHICH PRESENTS THE PLEASANT COMEDY OF INDIVIDUALISM IN THE NEW CAPITAL, AND THE COURTSHIP OF LINCOLN AND MARY TODD. 

Samson, with "Mr. Nimble" on a pad stuffed with straw in front of him, jogged across the prairies and waded the creeks and sloughs on his way toSpringfield. The little lad was in his fourth year that summer. He sleptand talked much on the way and kept Samson busy with queries about thesky and the creeks and the great flowery meadows. They camped the firstnight in a belt of timber and Samson writes that the boy "slept snugagainst me with his head on my arm. He went to sleep crying for hismother. " He adds:

 * * * * *

"It reminded me of the old days of my young fatherhood. 'Mr. Nimble'wanted to pick all the the flowers and splash his bare feet in everystream. In the evening he would talk to the stars as if he were playingwith them. To him the whole world is a plaything. He is like some of thegrown folks in Chicago. He would sit hanging on to the reins and talk tothe horse and to God by the hour. He used to tell me that God was afriend of his and I think he was right. It was good luck to get back toSarah and the children. They took the little stranger into their hearts. 'Heart room, house room' is the motto of this part of the country. "

 * * * * *

It was a new town to which Samson returned. The Governor and the stateofficers had moved to Springfield. The new Capitol was nearingcompletion. The hard times which had followed the downfall of '37had unjustly diminished Mr. Lincoln's confidence in his ability as alegislator. He enjoyed the practice of the law which had begun to turnhis interest from the affairs of state. But the pot of political scienceboiled before the fireplace in the rear of Joshua Speed's store everyevening that Lincoln and his associates were in Springfield. The wit andwisdom which bubbled into its vapors and the heat that surrounded it werethe talk of the town. Many came to witness the process and presently itwas moved, for a time, to more accommodating quarters. Before a crowd ofpeople in the Presbyterian Church, Lincoln, Logan, Baker and Browning forthe Whigs, and Douglas, Calhoun, Lamborn and Thomas for the Democrats, having assiduously prepared for the trial, debated the burning issues ofthe time. The effort of each filled an evening and Lincoln's speech gavehim new hope of himself. Wise men began to have great confidence in hisfuture. He had taken the style of Webster for his model. He no longerused the broad humor which had characterized his efforts on the stump. A study of the best speeches of the great New Englander had made himquestion its value in a public address. Dignity, clear reasoning andimpressiveness were the chief aims of his new method, the latter ofwhich is aptly illustrated by this passage from his speech in reply toDouglas in the debate mentioned:

 * * * * *

"If I ever feel the soul within me elevate and expand to those dimensionsnot wholly unworthy of its Almighty Architect it is when I contemplatethe cause of my country deserted by all the world besides, and I standingup boldly and alone and hurling defiance at her victorious oppressors. Here without contemplating consequences before high heaven and in theface of the world I swear eternal fidelity to the just cause, as I deemit, of the land of my life, my liberty and my love. "

 * * * * *

In these perfervid utterances one may find little to admire save a greatspirit seeking to express itself and lacking as yet the refinement oftaste equal to his undertaking. He was no heaven-born genius "sprung infull panoply from the head of Jove. " He was just one of the slow, commonfolk, with a passion for justice and human rights, slowly feeling his wayupward. His spirit was growing. Strong in its love and knowledge ofcommon men and of the things necessary to their welfare, it was beginningto seek and know "the divine power of words. " Every moment of leisure hegave to the study of Webster and Burke and Byron and Shakespeare andBurns. He had begun to study the art of Irving and Walter Scott and of anew writer of the name of Dickens. There were four men who slept withhim, in the room above Speed's store, and one of them has told how heused to lie sprawled on the floor, with his pillow and candle, readinglong after the others had gone to sleep. Samson writes that he never knewa man who understood the art of using minutes as he did. A detachedminute was to him a thing to be filled with value. Yet there were fewmen so deeply in love with fun. He loved to laugh at a story-telling andto match his humor with Thompson Campbell--a famous raconteur--and toplay with children. Fun was as necessary to him as sleep. He searched forit in people and in books. 

He came often to Samson's house to play with "Mr. Nimble" and to talkwith Joe. Some of his best thoughts came when he was talking with Joe andsome of his merriest moments when he was playing with "Mr. Nimble. " Heconfessed that it was the latter that reminded him that he had better belooking for a wife. 

But Lincoln was only one of many remarkable personalities in Springfieldwho had discovered themselves and were seeking to be discovered. Sundryindividuals were lifting their heads above the crowd but not with themodesty and self-distrust of Honest Abe. "Steve" Douglas, whom Samson hadreferred to as "that little rooster of a man, " put on the stilts of abrave and ponderous vigor. His five-foot stature and his hundred poundsof weight did not fit the part of Achilles. But he would have no other. He blustered much with a spear too heavy for his hands. Lincoln used tocall him a kind of popgun. 

This free-for-all joust of individualism--one of the first fruits ofFreedom in the West--gave to the life of the little village a rich flavorof comedy. The great talents of Douglas had not been developed. Hischaracter was as yet shifty and shapeless. Some of the leading citizensopenly distrusted him. He sought to command respect by assaulting men offull size and was repeatedly and soundly thumped for his presumption. Hehad endeavored publicly to chastise the sturdy Simeon Francis and hadbeen bent over a market cart and severely wigged by the editor. Lincolnused to call these affairs "the mistakes of Douglas due wholly to thedifference between the size of his body and the size of his feelin's. " Henever liked this little man, in opposing whom he was to come to thefulness of his power on the platform. It is evident that Lincoln regardedhim as an able advocate of small sincerity looking chiefly for personaladvancement. 

There is a passage in the diary which illustrates the character ofDouglas and Lincoln's knowledge of it. The passage relates to a day inthe famous debates of 1858. Lincoln had not reached Havana in time tohear the speech of his opponent. A great crowd had come by train and inwagons. Taking advantage of his absence Douglas had called Lincoln "aliar, a coward and a sneak" and declared that he was going to fight him. 

Lincoln heard of this and said in his speech:

"I shall not fight with Judge Douglas. A fight could prove nothing atissue in this campaign. It might prove that he is a more muscular manthan I or that I am a more muscular man than he, but this subject is notmentioned in either platform. Again he and I are really very good friendsand when we are together he would no more think of fighting me than offighting his wife. Therefore when the Judge talked about fighting he wasnot giving vent to any ill feeling but was trying to excite--well, let ussay enthusiasm against me on the part of his audience. "

Justice accomplished her ends now and then with comic displays ofviolence in the prairie capital. One night Abe Lincoln and certain of hisfriends captured a shoe-maker who had beaten his wife and held him at thevillage pump while the aggrieved woman gave him a sound thrashing. Sothis phase of imperialism was cured in Springfield by "hair off the samedog" as Lincoln put it. 

One evening while E. D. Baker was speaking in the crowded village courtroom above Lincoln's office and was rudely interrupted and in danger ofassault, the long legs of Honest Abe suddenly appeared through a scuttlehole in the ceiling above the platform. He leaped upon it and seizing astone water pitcher defied any one to interfere with the right of freespeech in a worthy cause. 

So it will be seen that there were zestful moments in these sundryvindications of the principles of Democracy in the prairie capital. 

About this time Miss Mary Todd, the daughter of a Kentucky banker, arrived in Springfield to visit her sister, Mrs. Ninian W. Edwards. Shewas a fashionably dressed, good-looking girl of blue-gray eyes and darkhair. She had been well educated in the schools of Lexington and couldspeak French as well as English. 

"Well, Mary, haven't you found the fortunate young man yet?" Mr. Edwardsplayfully asked the day of her coming. 

"You know my husband is going to be President of the United States andI hoped that I would find him in Springfield, " Mary answered in a likevein. 

"There's great fishing here, " said Mr. Edwards. "I know the very manyou are looking for. He has come up from the ranks and is now the mostpopular member of the Legislature. He can make a stirring speech and theysay he is going to be the President of the United States. He's wise andwitty and straight as a string but a rough diamond--big, awkward andhomely. You're just the girl to take him in hand and give him a littlepolish and push him along. His name is Abraham Lincoln. "

Speed knew the Todds--a distinguished Kentucky family with a Governor ofVirginia and other historic figures in its record. When he called uponMary she asked about Mr. Lincoln and said she would like to meet him. 

"She's just the girl for you, Abe, " Speed said to him that evening. "Sheis bright and well educated and her family has influence. She could be agreat help to you. "

This interested the member from Sangamon County who was indeed eager toget along. The companionship of a refined young lady was the very thinghe needed. 

"Let's go over and pay our respects to her, " Speed suggested. They went, Lincoln being carefully dressed in his first suit of black clothes. Miss Todd was a bright, vivacious girl of middle stature, twenty-twoyears old. She was fashionably dressed and carried her head proudly--asmart-looking, witty, well spoken girl but not especially handsome. Shewas most agreeable to the young men. Honest Abe was deeply impressed byher talk and fine manners and general comeliness. He felt her grace andcharm and spoke of it, with enthusiasm. But to him and to her thereseemed to be an impassable gulf between them. She changed her mind aboutthat, however, when she heard him speak and felt the power of hispersonality and saw his face lighted by the candle of his spirit. It wasa handsome face in those moments of high elation. Hardship and malarialpoison had lined and sallowed his skin. He used to say that every timethe fever and ague walked over him, they left a track on his face. Theshadows of loneliness and sorrow were in its sculpturing. But when hiseyes glowed with passion one saw not the rough mask which the life ofthe pioneer had given him. His form lost its awkwardness; his face tookon a noble and impressive beauty. Those times every eye looked longinglyupon him because of the great and wonderful things with which he wasinterfused. To quote his own words to the boy, Josiah Traylor, hischaracter was speaking as well as his lips. Mary had the insight torecognize his power. She felt the strength of his spirit. She agreed withher friends that here was a man of great promise. She felt the need ofhim. 

To one who loved beauty and respected women as he did the grace andrefinement of this young lady had a singular appeal coupled as it waswith the urge of his strong, masculine nature. It was a revelation. Hewas like a young poet going out into the open and seeing for the firsttime the mysterious beauty of the mountains or "the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring. " He began to seek and studyrefinement of thought, of manner, of dress, of expression. He knew thathe needed Mary but had the feeling that she was not for him. 

A woman who lived near the Edwards's house had a small, hairy, poodledog. One day as Abe and Mary were walking along the street, they met thiswoman who asked if they had seen her dog. 

"I wouldn't wonder if some one down the street had got him tied to theend of a pole and is using him to swab off his windows, " said Abe Lincolnwith a good-natured laugh. "I'll try to find him for you. "

Mary enjoyed fun and this and like sallies of the young legislator addeda certain zest to their friendship. Women are like children in their loveof humor. 

The diminutive Douglas saw in Miss Todd an asset of much value and hisattentions began to be assiduous. Mary was indifferent to his loftymanner and sonorous vocalism. Abe Lincoln liked her better for that. 

She encouraged the visits of the latter and invited his confidence. Thefact filled him with a great joy. They went about together. In theEdwards parlor he modestly told her of his work and his life plan. She differed with him on certain subjects which were unfortunatelyfundamental. He did not love her as he had loved Ann. But her personalitypleased and fascinated the young legislator. One evening under thespell of it he asked her to be his wife. She consented. Then he began tothink it over. 

It was like Lincoln in his relations with women to get the cart beforethe horse so to speak. The points upon which they disagreed came up forconsideration. She could not think as he did on the subject of slaveryand the kindred one of State Rights. His manners were not like hers. Hewas thirty-one years old that summer. It was rather late in life toundertake any great change in his manners. They grew naturally out ofone's history and character. He could be kind and gentle in his way. But, mainly, his manners would have to be like the rugged limbs of the oak. The grace and elegance of the water-willow and the white birch were notfor him. It saddened him to conclude that he would have to be for a longtime just what he was--crude, awkward, unlearned in the graces andamenities of cultivated people. He rightly judged that his crudenesswould be a constant source of irritation to the proud Mary. As theiracquaintance progressed the truth of his conviction grew more apparent. This, however, did not so much concern him as her lack of sympathy withsome of his deepest motives. He decided that, after all, he did not loveher and that to marry her would be committing a great Wrong. 

Some of the unhappiest days of his life followed. His conscience gave himno rest. He knew not what to do. He told a friend that if his misery wereequally distributed to the whole human race each would have a troublesomeburden. He was wont to take long walks into the country with "Mr. Nimble"those days often carrying the boy on his shoulders. It is likely that thelittle lad was a great comfort to him. He wrote a letter to Miss Todd inwhich he reviewed the history of his thinking on the subject of theirmarriage and frankly but tenderly stated his conviction that it wouldimperil her happiness to marry him. Before sending it he submitted theletter to his friend Speed. 

The latter read it over and looked very grave. 

"What do you think of it?" Lincoln asked. 

"I would never send a letter like that to a lady, " Speed answered. "Ifyou feel as you say go and tell her so, but don't put it in a letter. "

Lincoln went to see her that evening and returned to his friend in a morecheerful mood. 

"Did you tell her?" Speed asked. 

"Yes, I told her. "

"What happened?"

"She burst out crying and I threw my arms around her and kissed her andthat settled it. We are going to be married. "

What an illustration of the humanity and chivalry of Honest Abe was inthe proceeding!

"I'm sure you'll get along all right together, " said Speed. "Your spiritis jealous of any one likely to get in its way. But she won't. She'llfall in line and do what she can to help you. "

Now a little before this time Henry Brimstead and other creditors ofDavis had gone to Chicago in the matter of the satisfaction of theirjudgment against him. Henry had driven a wagon across the prairies and, returning, had brought Bim and her mother to his home and then toSpringfield. It was while they were there that Harry had come down toChicago out of the woods in a condition of health which had alarmed hisphysician. The latter had put him on a steamboat and sent him east. Hewas bound for the mountain country in northern New York. 

Bim and her mother returned to Chicago on the stage, the former to takea place in the store as the representative of Samson's interest. 

Harry was three years in the wilderness trying to regain his health. Success came to him in the last year of his banishment. 

Toward the end of it he received a letter from Mr. Lincoln. It waswritten soon after that curious climax in the courting of Mary Todd. Inthis letter he said:

 * * * * *

"I am serving my last term in the Legislature. I learn that you are inbetter health and I hope that you will have the strength and inclinationto return soon and be a candidate for my seat in the house. Samson willnot do it, being so busy with large affairs. You are young. You have wondistinction in the service of your country. You have studied the problemsof the county and the state. Samson and Baker and Logan and Browningagree with me that you are the man for the place. 

"As for myself I am going to be married in a year or so. I shall have togive all my time to the practice of the law. I am now in partnership withStephen T. Logan and am slowly clearing my conscience of debt. I havedone what I could for the state and for Sangamon County. It hasn't beenmuch. I want you to take up the burden, if you can, until I get free ofmy debts at least. By and by I may jump into the ring again. "

 * * * * *

Harry was glad to obey the summons. Soon after the arrival of Mr. Lincoln's letter his doctor gave the young man what he called "anhonorable discharge. " The magic of youth and its courage and of good airhad wrought a change of which the able doctor had had little hope in thebeginning. 

In his travels through the great forest Harry had met David Parish andStephen Van Renssalaer at whose homes on the shore of the St. Lawrence hehad spent many a happy, summer day. Three years had passed since thatfateful morning on the prairie. Through the winters he had lived in acomfortable hunter's camp on the shore of Lake Placid. Summers he hadwandered with a guide and canoe through the lakes and rivers of thewilderness hunting and fishing and reading the law books which he hadborrowed from Judge Fine of Ogdensburg. Each summer he worked down theOswegatchie to that point for a visit with his new friends. The historyof every week had been written to Bim and her letters had reached him atthe points where he was wont to rest in his travels. The lovers had notlost their ardor. Theirs was the love "that hopes and endures and ispatient. "

On a day in June, 1841, he boarded a steamboat at Ogdensburg on his wayto Chicago. He arrived in the evening and found Samson at the home of Bimand her mother--a capacious and well-furnished house on Dearborn Street. Bim was then a little over twenty-five years old. A letter from JohnWentworth says that she was "an exquisite bit of womanhood learned in thefine arts of speech and dress and manner. " He spoke also of her humor andoriginality and of her gift for business "which amounted to absolutegenius. "

The store had doubled in size under her management and with the helpof the capital of Samson and Sarah Traylor. Its wholesale and retailbusiness was larger than any north of St. Louis. The epidemic had seizedher toward the last of her nursing and left the marks of its scourge uponher. It had marred her beauty but Samson writes, "the girl was still veryhandsome. She was well filled out and stood as straight as an arrow andwas always dressed as neat as a pin. I fear she was a little extravagantabout that. She carried her head like a sleek, well-fed Morgan colt. She was kind of scared to meet Harry for fear of what he'd think of thoselittle marks on her face but I told her not to worry. "

"You are the smartest and loveliest looking creature that I ever saw inmy life, " said Harry after he had held her in his arms a moment. 

"But see what has happened to me--look at my face, " she answered. 

"It is more beautiful than ever, " he said. "Those marks have doubled mylove for you. They are medals of honor better than this one that I wear. "

"Then I think that I'll take you off and marry you before you have achance to fight another duel or find another war to go to, " said Bim. "There is the mustache that I used to long for and which wouldn't come, "she added with a smile. 

"Is there anything else that I seem to need?" Harry asked. "I could growwhiskers now. "

"Don't, " she answered. "The great need of the West is shears and razorsand a law to compel their use. There can be little romance in the midstof so much hair. "

"I shall be careful not to offend you, " Harry laughed. "I want to marryyou as soon as possible. I've been looking forward to that since I wassixteen. "

"I don't hear of anything but love and marriage, " said Samson. "We'vebeen rassling down at our house to keep Josiah from running off andgetting married. He's engaged already. "

"Engaged! To whom?" Harry asked. 

"To Annabel Brimstead. She's a little older than he is. She laughed athim and promised to marry him as soon as he was nominated for Presidentby all his friends. She would now vote for him herself. He has become agood athlete and the best scholar in school. He has every boy and girl inthe village working for him evenings and Saturdays. "

"What are they doing?" Harry asked. 

"Making those newfangled things they call lucifers. You can build a firein a second with 'em. They cut splinters out of soft wood, dip their endsin brimstone--which Joe learned how to make--and put them in a hot ovenuntil the brimstone is baked. Then a scratch will bring a flame. Joe putsthem up in bundles and sells them to the merchants and calls them lucifermatches. He has invented a machine that will cut and dip a thousandsplinters an hour. I tell you Annabel is in danger. "

He took a lucifer out of his pocket and scratched it on the bottom of hisboot. The party looked with wonder at its flame which quickly consumedthe slender thread of pine in his fingers. 

"I have always thought that Joe would make a whale of a man, " said Harry. 

"We all seem to be threatened with immediate and overwhelming happiness, "Bim exclaimed. 

"The only thing in the way of mine is the national debt that I haveaccumulated, " Harry remarked. 

"I knew he'd think of something, " said Bim ruefully. "If I wanted toabolish the noble institution of marriage I'd make him chairman of theways and means committee. "

"Harry, your credit is still good with me, and I'm prosperous, " Samsonbegan. "I want you to know that Bim's energy and skill are mostlyresponsible for my success. I guess we owe more to your sickness thanyou're aware of. If it hadn't been for that we would be plodding along atthe same old pace. We would not have felt the need of speeding up. It wasyour misfortune that brought Bim into the store. If she wants to retireand marry you I rather think she is entitled to do it. I don't want anymore fooling around about this matter. Sarah and I couldn't stand it. She's kept me awake nights talking about it. The thing has worried usplenty. We rebel and demand action before anything else happens. We feelas if we had some rights in this case. "

"I concede them and second your demand, " Harry answered. "Bim must namea near day. I only need a week to get some clothes made and to go up toMilwaukee on a little matter of business. "

"I don't know whether we'll give him a week or not, " said Bim playfully. "A great many things may happen to him in a week. "

CHAPTER XXIV

WHICH DESCRIBES A PLEASANT HOLIDAY AND A PRETTY STRATAGEM. 

Two days later Bim suggested that they should take a day's ride in theopen and spend the night at the home of a friend of hers in a settlementknown as Plain's End, Harry having expressed a wish to get out on theprairies in the saddle after his long term of travel on a steamboat. 

"Are you sure that you can stand an all day's journey?" Bim asked. 

"I! I could kill a bear with my hands and carry him home on my back andeat him for dinner, " the young man boasted. 

"I've got enough of the wild West in me to like a man who can eat bearsif there's nothing better, " said Bim. "I didn't know but you'd beenspoiled in the homes of those eastern millionaires. If you're willing totake what comes and make the best of it, I'll give you a day that youwill remember. You will have to put up with a very simple hospitality butI wouldn't wonder if you'd enjoy it. "

"I can put up with anything so long as I have your help, " the young mananswered. 

"Then I shall send word that we are coming. We will leave here day afterto-morrow. Our horses will be at the door at eight o'clock in themorning. We shall take some luncheon and reach our destination late inthe afternoon and return next day. It will give us a good long visit witheach other and you'll know me better before we get back. "

"I want to know you as well as I love you, " he said. "I suppose it willbe like studying law--one never gets through with it. "

"I've found myself a rather abstruse subject--as bad as Coke, of whichAbe used to talk so much with my father, " she declared. "I shall be gladif it doesn't discourage you. "

"The mystery of woman can not be solved by intellectual processes, " theyoung man remarked. "Observation is the only help and mine has beenmostly telescopic. We have managed to keep ourselves separated by a greatdistance even when we were near each other. It has been like looking at astar with a very limited parallax. It's a joy to be able to see you withthe naked eye. "

"You will have little to look at on this holiday but me and theprairies, " said Bim. 

"I think the prairies will be neglected. I shall wear my cavalry uniformand try to get a pair of the best horses in Chicago for the trip. "

"Then you would have to get mine. I have a handsome pair of black younghorses from Ohio--real high steppers. It is to be my party. You will haveto take what comes and make the best of it. "

The day of their journey arrived--a warm, bright, cloudless day inSeptember 1841. The long story of those years of separation was told asthey rode along. Biggs had been killed in a drunken brawl at Alton. Davis had gone to the far West--a thoroughly discredited man. HenryBrimstead had got his new plow on the market and was prospering beyondall his hopes. Eli had become a merchant of unusual ability and vision. His square dealing and good sense had done much to break down prejudiceagainst the Jews in the democracy of the West. Agents of the store weretraveling in Wisconsin, Illinois and Indiana selling its goods to countrydealers. They carried with them the progressive and enlightened spirit ofthe city and the news. Everywhere they insisted upon a high standard ofhonesty in business. A man who had no respect for his contract was struckoff the list. They spread the every-day religion of the counting room. They were a welcome, unifying and civilizing force in the middle country. Samson Traylor was getting wealth and a reputation for good sense. He hadmade the plan on which the business had developed. He had proved himselfa wise and far-seeing man. Sarah's friends had been out in Springfieldfor a visit. They had invested money in the business. Her brother haddecided to bring his family West and settle in Sangamon County. 

The lovers stopped in a grove at noon and fed their horses and Harry, who had a bundle of Joe's lucifer matches in his pocket--a gift fromSamson--built a fire and made a broach of green sticks on which hebroiled beef steak. 

A letter from Harry to Sarah Traylor tells of the beauty of the day--ofblue bells and scarlet lilies in the meadow grass, of the whistlingquail, of pigeons and wild geese flying across the sky and of his greatjoy in seeing again the vast sunlit reaches of the level, virgin lands. 

 * * * * *

"It was my great day of fulfillment, all the dearer because I had comeback to health and youth and beloved scenes out of those years shadowedwith loneliness and despair, " he writes. "The best part of it, I assureyou, was the face I loved and that musical voice ringing like a bell inmerry laughter and in the songs which had stirred my heart in the daysof its tender youth. You--the dear and gentle mother of my laterboyhood--are entitled to know of my happiness when I heard that voicetell me in its sweeter tone of the love which has endured through allthese years of stern trial. We talked of our plans as we sat among theferns and mosses in the cool shade sweetened by the incense of burningfagots, over that repast to which we shall be returning often forrefreshment in poorer days. We had thought of you and of the man so wellbeloved of you and us in all these plans. We shall live in Springfield sothat we may be near you and him and our friend, Honest Abe. "

 * * * * *

It is a long letter presenting minute details in the history of thatsentimental journey and allusion to matters which have no part in thisrecord. Its substance being fully in the consciousness of the writer, hetenderly folds it up and returns it to the package--yellow and brittleand faded and having that curious fragrance of papers that have lain forscores of years in the gloom and silence of a locked mahogany drawer. Soalive are these letters with the passion of youth in long forgotten yearsthat the writer ties the old ribbon and returns them to their tomb with afeeling of sadness, finding a singular pathos in the contrast of theirlook and their contents. They are turning to dust but the soul of themhas gone into this little history. 

The young man and woman mounted their horses and resumed their journey. It was after two o'clock. The Grand Prairie lay ahead of them. Thesettlement of Plain's End was twenty-one miles away on its fartherside. They could just see its tall oak trees in the dim distance. 

"We must hurry if we get there before dark, " said the girl. "Above all wemust be careful to keep our direction. It's easy to get lost down in thegreat prairie. "

They heard a cat-bird singing in a near thicket as they left their camp. It reminded Bim of her favorite ballad and she sang it with the spirit ofold:

 "My sweetheart, come along-- Don't you hear the glad song As the notes of the nightingale flow? Don't you hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale As she sings in the valleys below? As she sings in the valleys below?"

They went on shoulder-deep in the tall grass on the lower stretches ofthe prairie. Here and there it gave Harry the impression that he wasswimming his horse in "noisy, vivid green water. " They startled a herdof deer and a number of wild horses. When they lost sight of the woods atPlain's End the young man, with his cavalry training, was able to ridestanding on his saddle until he had got it located. It reminded himof riding in the Everglades and he told of his adventures there as theywent on, but very modestly. He said not a word of his heroic fight theday that he and sixty of his comrades were cut off and surrounded inthe "land of the grassy waters. " But Bim had heard the story from otherlips. 

Late in the afternoon the woods loomed in front of them scarcely a mileoff. Near the end of the prairie they came to a road which led them pastthe door of a lonely cabin. It seemed to be deserted, but its windowswere clean and a faint column of smoke rose from its chimney. Therewere hollyhocks and sunflowers in its small and cleanly dooryard. Amorning-glory vine had been trained around the windows. 

"Broad Creek is just beyond, " said Bim. "I don't know how the crossingwill be. "

They came presently to the creek, unexpectedly swollen. A man stood onthe farther shore with some seventy feet of deep and rapid water betweenhim and the travelers. 

"That man looks like Stephen Nuckles, " said Harry. 

"It is Stephen Nuckles, " Bim answered. 

"Hello, Steve!" the young soldier called. 

"Howdy, boy!" said the old minister. "That ar creek is b'ilin' over. I reckon you'll have to swim the hosses. "

"They're young city horses and not broke to deep water but we'll trythem, " said Bim. 

They tried but Bim's horse refused to go beyond good footing. 

"You kin light at that ar house an' spend the night but the folks havegone erway, " the minister called. 

"I guess you'll have to marry us right here and now, " Harry proposed. "Night is coming and that house is our only refuge. "

"Poor boy! There seems to be no escape for you!" Bim exclaimed with asigh. "Do you really and honestly want to marry me? If there's any doubtabout it I'll leave the horses with you and swim the creek. You could putthem in the barn and swim with me or spend the night in the cabin. "

He embraced and kissed her in a way that left no doubt of his wishes. 

"It's a cool evening and the creek is very wet, " he answered. "I'm goingto take this matter in my own hands. "

He called to the minister: "Steve, this is the luckiest moment of my lifeand you are just the man of all others I would have chosen for its mostimportant job. Can you stand right where you are and marry us?"

"You bet I kin, suh, " the minister answered. "I've often said I couldmarry any one half a mile erway if they would only talk as loud as I kin. I've got the good book right hyah in my pocket, suh. My ol' woman iscomin'. She'll be hyah in a minute fer to witness the perceedin's. "

Mrs. Nuckles made her appearance on the river bank in a short time. 

Then the minister shouted: "We'll begin by readin' the nineteenth chapterof Matthew. "

He shouted the chapter and the usual queries, knelt and prayed andpronounced them man and wife. 

The young man and woman walked to the cabin and put their horses in itsbarn, where they found an abundance of hay and oats. They rapped at thecabin door but got no response. They lifted its latch and entered. 

A table stood in the middle of the room set for two. On its cover ofspotless white linen were plates and cups and saucers and a big platterof roasted prairie chickens and a great frosted cake and preserves andjellies and potato salad and a pie and a bottle of currant wine. A clockwas ticking on the shelf. There were live embers in the fireplace andwood in the box, and venison hanging in the chimney. 

The young soldier looked about him and smiled. 

"This is wonderful!" he exclaimed. "To whom are we indebted?"

"You don't think I'd bring you out here on the plains and marry you andnot treat you well, " Bim laughed. "I warned you that you'd have to takewhat came and that the hospitality would be simple. "

"It's a noble and benevolent conspiracy that has turned this cabin intoa Paradise and brought all this happiness upon me, " he said as he kissedher. "I thought it strange that Mr. Nuckles should be on hand at theright moment. "

"The creek was a harder thing to manage, " she answered with a smile. "Itold my messenger to see that the gate of the reservoir was opened atfour o'clock. So, you see, you had to marry or swim. Now I've made aclean breast of it. I felt sure something would happen before you gotback from Milwaukee. I was plum superstitious about it. "

The young man shook with laughter and said: "You are the new woman bornof the democracy of the West. "

"I began to fear that I should be an old woman before I got to be Mrs. Needles. "

"Whose house is this?" he asked in a moment. 

"It is the home of Mr. And Mrs. Peter Lukins. Their land near Chicago isnow used for a cattle yard and slaughter-house and is paying them a goodincome. They moved here some time ago. He looks after the reservoir. Mrs. Lukins is a famous cook as you will see. We can stay here as long as wewant to. We shall find everything we need in the well, the chimney, thebutt'ry and the cellar. And here is the wedding supper all ready for usand I as hungry as a bear. "

"In the words of Mrs. Lukins 'it is very copasetic, ' and I begin to feelthat I have made some progress in the study of Bim Kelso. Come, let'shave our supper. "

"Not until you have broiled a piece of venison. It will take a lot offood to satisfy me. I'll get the cream and butter out of the well andmake a pot of coffee. Hurry up, Harry, I'm starving. "

Darkness fell upon the busy lovers and soon the firelight and the glow ofmany candles filled the homely cabin with flickering shadows and a softbeautiful color. 

"Supper is ready, " she said, when the venison steak had been deposited onthe platter. 

"Bim, I love you not as most men love, " he said as They stood a moment bythe side of the table. "From the bottom of my heart I do respect you foryour honor and good faith and when I think of that and of all you havesuffered for my sake I bow my head and ask God to make me worthy of sucha helper. "

They sat down to this unusual wedding feast and as we leave them thewindows of the little cabin fling their light far out upon the levelplain; we hear the sound of merry laughter and of the tall grassesrustling and reeling joyously in the breeze. The moon in mid-heaven andthe innumerable host around it seem to know what is passing on the edgeof the Grand Prairie and to be well pleased. Surely there is nothingthat finds a quicker echo in the great heart of the world than humanhappiness!

CHAPTER XXV

BEING A BRIEF MEMOIR BY THE HONORABLE AND VENERABLE MAN KNOWN IN THESEPAGES AS JOSIAH TRAYLOR, WHO SAW THE GREAT PROCESSION OF EVENTS BETWEENANDREW JACKSON AND WOODROW WILSON AND ESPECIALLY THE MAKING AND THE ENDOF LINCOLN. 

Now, as I have done often sitting in the chimney corner at the day's end, I look back at my youth and manhood and tell, with one eye upon theclock, of those years of fulfillment in the progress of our belovedpilgrim. There are four and twenty of them that I shall try to review inas many minutes. At this distance I see only the high places--one loomingabove another like steps in a stairway. 

The years of building and sentiment ended on the fourth of November, 1842, when he and Mary Todd were joined in marriage. Now, like one havingtaken note of the storm clouds, he strengthens the structure. 

Mary tried to teach him fine manners. It was a difficult undertaking. Often, as might have been expected, she lost her patience. Mary was anexcellent girl, but rather kindlesome and pragmatic. Like most of theprairie folk, for instance, Abe Lincoln had been accustomed to reachfor the butter with his own knife, and to find rest in attitudesextremely indolent and unbecoming. He enjoyed sprawling on the floor inhis shirt-sleeves and slippers with a pillow under his head and a book inhis hand. He had a liking for ample accommodation not fully satisfied bya bed or a lounge. Mary undertook to turn him into new ways and naturallythere was irritation in the house, but I think they got along very welltogether for all that. Mary grew fond of him and proud of his greattalents and was a devoted wife. For years she did the work of the houseand bore him children. He milked the cow and took care of the horse whenhe was at home. 

Annabel and I, having just been married, went with him to Washington onour wedding-tour in 1847. He was taking his seat in Congress that year. We were with him there when he met Webster. Lincoln was deeply impressedby the quiet dignity of the great man. We went together to hear Emersonlecture. It was a motley audience--business men, fashionable ladies andgentlemen, statesmen, politicians, women with their knitting, andlion-hunters. The tall, awkward orator ascended the platform, took offhis top-coat and drew a manuscript from his pocket. He had a narrow, sloping forehead, a prominent nose, gray eyes and a skin of singulartransparency. His voice was rich and mellow but not strong. Lincolnlistened with rapt attention to his talk about Democracy. It was amemorable night. He spoke of it often. Such contact with the greatspirits of that time, of which he studiously availed himself inWashington, was of great value to the statesman from Illinois. Hisexperiences on the floor were in no way important to him, but since 1914I have thought often of what he said there, regarding Polk's invasion ofMexico, unauthorized by Congress as it was:

"The Provision of the Constitution giving the war-making power toCongress was dictated, as I understand it, by the following reasons:kings had always been involving and impoverishing their people in wars, pretending generally that the good of the people was the object. This ourconvention understood to be the most oppressive of all kingly oppressionsand they proposed to so frame the constitution that no man should holdthe power of bringing this oppression upon _us_. "

The next year he stumped Massachusetts for "Zach" Taylor and heardGovernor Seward deliver his remarkable speech on Slavery which containedthis striking utterance:

"Congress has no power to inhibit any duty commanded by God on MountSinai or by His Son on the Mount of Olives. "

On his return home Lincoln confessed that we had soon to deal with thatquestion. 

I was in his office when Herndon said:

"I tell you that slavery must be rooted out. "

"What makes you think so?" Mr. Lincoln asked. 

"I feel it in my bones, " was Herndon's answer. 

After that he used to speak with respect of "Bill Herndon's bonephilosophy. "

His term in Congress having ended, he came back to the law in partnershipwith William H. Herndon--a man of character and sound judgment. Thosedays Lincoln wore black trousers, coat and stock, a waistcoat of satinand a Wellington high hat. He was wont to carry his papers in his hat. Mary had wrought a great change in his external appearance. 

They used to call him "a dead square lawyer. " I remember that onceHerndon had drawn up a fictitious plea founded on a shrewd assumption. Lincoln carefully examined the papers. 

"Is it founded on fact?" he asked. 

"No, " Herndon answered. 

Lincoln scratched his head thoughtfully and asked:

"Billy, hadn't we better withdraw that plea? You know it's a sham andgenerally that's another name for a lie. Don't let it go on record. Thecursed thing may come staring us in the face long after this suit hasbeen forgotten. "

On the whole he was not so communicative as he had been in his youngmanhood. He suffered days of depression when he said little. Often, ingood company, be seemed to be thinking of things in no way connectedwith the talk. Many called him a rather "shut-mouthed man. "

Herndon used to say that the only thing he had against Lincoln was hishabit of coming in mornings and sprawling on the lounge and reading aloudfrom the newspaper. 

The people of the town loved him. One day as we were walking along thestreet together we came upon a girl dressed up and crying in front of herfather's door. 

"What's the matter?" Lincoln asked. 

"I want to take the train and the wagon hasn't come for my trunk, " saidshe. 

Lincoln went in and got the trunk and carried it to the station on hisback, with people laughing and throwing jokes at him as he strode along. When I think of him his chivalry and kindness come first to mind. 

He read much, but his days of book study were nearly ended. His learningwas now got mostly in the school of experience. Herndon says, and I thinkit is true, that he never read to the end of a law book those days. Thestudy of authorities was left to the junior partner. His reading wasmostly outside the law. His knowledge of science was derived fromChambers's _Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation_. 

He was still afraid of the Abolition Movement in 1852 and left town toavoid a convention of its adherents. He thought the effort to resist byforce the laws of Kansas was criminal and would hurt the cause offreedom. "Let us have peace and revolutionize through the ballot-box, "he urged. 

In 1854 a little quarrel in New York began to weave the thread ofdestiny. Seward, Weed and Greeley had wielded decisive power in the partycouncils of that state. Seward was a high headed, popular idol. His plansand his triumphant progress absorbed his thought. Weed was dazzled by thesplendor of this great star. Neither gave a thought to their ablecolleague--a poor man struggling to build up a great newspaper. Anoffice, with fair pay, would have been a help to him those days. But hegot no recognition of his needs and talents and services. Suddenly hewrote a letter to Weed in which he said:

 "The firm of Seward, Weed and Greeley is hereby dissolved by the resignation of its junior member. "

When Greeley had grown in power and wisdom until his name was known andhonored from ocean to ocean, they tried to make peace with him, but invain. 

Then suddenly a new party and a new Lincoln were born on the same day in1856 at a great meeting in Bloomington, Illinois. There his soul was tocome into its stateliest mansion out of its lower vaulted past. For himthe fulness of time had arrived. He was prepared for it. His intellecthad also reached the fulness of its power. Now his great right hand wasready for the thunderbolts which his spirit had been slowly forging. Godcalled him in the voices of the crowd. He was quick to answer. He went upthe steps to the platform. I saw, as he came forward, that he had takenthe cross upon him. Oh, it was a memorable thing to see the smotheredflame of his spirit leaping into his face. His hands were on his hips. Heseemed to grow taller as he advanced. The look of him reminds me now ofwhat the famous bronze founder in Paris said of the death-mask, that itwas the most beautiful head and face he had ever seen. What shall I sayof his words save that it seemed to me that the voice of God was in them?I never saw an audience so taken up and swept away. The reporters forgotto report. It is a lost speech. There is no record of it. I suppose itwas scribbled with a pencil on scraps of paper and on the backs ofenvelopes at sundry times, agreeably with his habit, and committed tomemory. So this great speech, called by some the noblest effort of hislife, was never printed. I remember one sentence relating to the Nebraskabill:

"Let us use ballots, not bullets, against the weapons of violence, whichare those of kingcraft. Their fruits are the dying bed of the fearlessSumner, the ruins of the Free State Hotel, the smoking timbers of theHerald of Freedom, the Governor of Kansas chained to a stake like ahorse-thief. "

In June, 1858, he took the longest step of all. The Republican StateConvention had endorsed him for the United States Senate. It was thenthat he wrote on envelopes and scraps of paper at odd moments, whenhis mind was off duty, the speech beginning:

 "A house divided against itself must fall. Our Government can not long endure part slave and part free. "

I was among the dozen friends to whom he read that speech in theState House library. One said of those first sentences: "It is a foolutterance. " Another: "It is ahead of its time. " Another declared that itwould drive away the Democrats who had lately joined the party. Herndonand I were the only ones who approved it. 

Lincoln had come to another fork in the road. For a moment I wonderedwhich way he would go. 

Immediately he rose and said with an emphasis that silenced opposition:

"Friends, this thing has been held back long enough. The time has comewhen these sentiments should be uttered, and if it is decreed that Ishall go down because of this speech, then let me go down linked tothe truth. "

His conscience had prevailed. The speech was delivered. Douglas, theDemocratic candidate, came on from Washington to answer it. That led toLincoln's challenge to a joint debate. I was with him through that longcampaign. Douglas was the more finished orator. Lincoln spoke as he splitrails. His conscience was his beetle. It drove his arguments deep into thesouls of his hearers. The great thing about him was his conscience. Unless his theme were big enough to give it play in noble words he couldbe as commonplace as any one. He was built for a tool of God intremendous moral issues. He was awkward and diffident in beginning aspeech. Often his hands were locked behind him. He gesticulated more withhis head than his hands. He stood square-toed always. He never walkedabout on the platform. He scored his points with the long, bony, indexfinger of his right hand. Sometimes he would hang a hand on the lapelof his coat as if to rest it. Perspiration dripped from his face. Hisvoice, high pitched at first, mellowed into a pleasant sound. 

One sentence in Lincoln's speech at Ottawa thrust "The Little Giant" ofIllinois out of his way forever. It was this pregnant query:

"Can the people of a United States territory in any lawful way andagainst the wish of any citizen of the United States exclude slavery fromits limits prior to the formation of a state constitution?"

He knew that Douglas would answer yes and that, doing so, he wouldalienate the South and destroy his chance to be President two yearslater. That is exactly what came to pass. "The Little Giant's" answerwas the famous "Freeport Heresy. " He was elected to the Senate but wasno longer possible as a candidate for the Presidency. 

I come now to the last step in the career of my friend and belovedmaster. It was the Republican convention of 1860 in Chicago. I was adelegate. The New Yorkers came in white beaver hats enthusiastic forSeward, their favorite son. He was the man we dreaded most. Many in thegreat crowd were wearing his colors. The delegations were in earnestsession the night before the balloting began. The hotel corridors werethronged with excited men. My father had become a man of wealth and greatinfluence in Illinois. I was with him when he went into the meeting ofthe Michigan delegates and talked to them. He told how he came West in awagon and saw the spirit of America in the water floods of Niagara andwent on to the cabin village of New Salem and saw again the spirit ofAmerica in the life of the boy, Abe Lincoln, then flowing toward itsmanhood. When he sat down the Honorable Dennis Flanagan arose and told ofmeeting the Traylor party at the Falls when he was driving an ox-team, ina tall beaver hat; how he had remembered their good advice and cookiesand jerked venison. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "I am willing to take the word of a man whose nameis hallowed by my dearest recollections. And believing what he has saidof Abraham Lincoln I am for him on the second ballot. "

The green Irish lad, whom I remember dimly, had become a great politicalchieftain and his words had much effect. There was a stir among thedelegates. I turned and saw the tall form of Horace Greeley enteringthe door. His big, full face looked rather serious. He wore gold-bowedspectacles. He was smooth-shaven save for the silken, white, throat beardthat came out from under his collar. His head was bald on top with soft, silvered locks over each ear. He was a picturesque and appealing figure. They called on him to speak. He stepped forward and said slowly in ahigh-pitched drawl:

"Gentlemen, this is my speech: On your second ballot vote for AbrahamLincoln of Illinois. "

He bowed and left the room and visited many delegations, and everywhereexpressed his convictions in this formula. Backed by his tremendouspersonality and influence the simple words were impressive. I doubt notthey turned scores of men from Seward to the great son of Illinois. 

Then--the campaign with its crowds, its enthusiasm, its Vesuvianmutterings. There was a curious touch of humor and history in itsbanners. Here are three of them:

"Menard County for the Tall Sucker. "

"We are for old Abe the Giant-Killer. "

"Link on to Lincoln. "

Then--those last days in Springfield. 

He came to the office the afternoon before he left and threw himself onthe lounge and talked of bygone days with Herndon. 

"Billy, how long have we been together?" he asked. 

"Sixteen years. "

"Never a cross word. "

"Never. "

"Keep the old sign hanging. A little thing like the election of aPresident should make no change in the firm of Lincoln and Herndon. IfI live I'm coming back some time and then we'll go right on with thepractice of the law as if nothing had happened. "

Then--that Monday morning in Springfield when at eight o'clock on theeleventh of February the train bore him toward the great task of hislife. Hannah Armstrong, who had foxed his trousers in New Salem, andthe venerable Doctor Allen and the Brimsteads, and Aleck Ferguson, bentwith age, and Harry Needles and Bim and their four handsome children, andmy father and mother, and Betsey, my maiden sister, and Eli Fredenbergwere there in the crowd to bid him good-by. 

A quartet sang. Mr. Lincoln asked his friends and neighbors to pray forhis success. He was moved by the sight of them and could not have saidmuch if he had tried. The bell rang. The train started. He waved his handand was gone. Not many of us who stood trying to see through our tearswere again to look upon him. The years of preparation were ended andthose of sacrifice had begun. 

Now, we are at the foot of the last hill. For a long time I had seen itlooming in the distance. Those days it filled my heart with a great fear. Now, how beautiful, how lonely it seems! Oh, but what a vineyard in thatvery fruitful hill! I speak low when I think of it. Harry Needles and Iwere on our way to Washington that fateful night of April 14, 1865. Wereached there at an early hour in the morning. We made our way throughthe crowded streets to the little house opposite Ford's Theatre. Anofficer who knew me cleared a way for us to the door. Reporters, statesmen, citizens and their families were massed in the street waitingwith tear-stained faces for the end. Some of them were sobbing as wepassed. We were admitted without delay. A minister and the doctor sat bythe bedside. The latter held an open watch in his hand. I could hear itticking the last moments in an age of history. What a silence as thegreat soul of my friend was "breaking camp to go home. " Friends of thefamily and members of the Cabinet were in the room. Through the open doorof a room beyond I saw Mrs. Lincoln and the children and others. Welooked at our friend lying on the bed. His kindly face was pale andhaggard. He breathed faintly and at long intervals. His end was near. 

"Poor Abe!" Harry whispered as be looked down at him. "He has had to dieon the cross. "

To most of those others Lincoln was the great statesman. To Harry he wasstill the beloved Abe who had shared his fare and his hardships in many along, weary way. 

The doctor put his ear against the breast of the dying man. There was amoment in which we could hear the voices in the street. The doctor roseand said: "He is gone. "

Secretary Stanton, who more than once had spoken lightly of him, came tothe bedside and tenderly closed the eyes of his master, saying:

"Now, he belongs to the ages. "

We went out of the door. The sound of mourning was in the streets. Adozen bells were tolling. On the corner of Tenth Street a quartet ofnegroes was singing that wonderful prayer:

"Swing low, sweet chariot, comin' for to carry me home. "

One of them, whose rich, deep bass thrilled me and all who heard it, wasRoger Wentworth, the fugitive, who had come to our house with Bim, in thedarkness of the night, long before. 

THE END