The Indianapolis leader. (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1879-1890, 1882-06-10
LINCOLN's MOTHER.

Borne by thestaresman forHis gedP aren
The Log Cabin and the Days of Poverty
The Last sad Scenes.
Washington Republican,
The following interestin chapter is from
the historical novel, just published at Slut
CART. Germany. by D.. Thesdore Can isius
and entitled "Abr. ham Lincoln" and trans
lated for the National Republican by Mis-
Eda Cxnisius, daughter OF the author. DIR
Canisius was an intimate friend of President
Lincoln, and has come into possession o.
many interesting iscts relating to the Lin
coin family which would tend TO make him
faithful biographer.
Unfortunately Abe was not allowed to
follow his own inclination. The summer
season again called him from his studies.
Not only was there work in abundance in
the woods and fields, but the state of bis
mothers health became more and more
hopeless, so that he was again compelled 10
perform the hardest work Of the household
which his sister could not accomplish alone.
The noble-hearted Mrs. Lincoln had be-
came the shadow of her former self Pale
and emaciated, she glided about the house
and when she attempted now and then to
perform with weak and trembling hands
some little task she felt as though the exer-
ton Lad exhausted all her energies. She
seemed like a moving corpse, and only her
strong will appeared to shield her body
from total dissolution. She would not yet
depart fr m her loving ones, and-she lived
But how miserable that life during the whole
of that summer What q torture it had be-
come to herl How many sleepless, feverist
nights succeeded each otheri
At last she could no longer even move
about the hut to direct and superintend the
household affairs. For days she lay pros
trate on her b d, with eyes closed, only now
and then lisping feebly a few words, yet
whatever she uttered in such sad moments
was filed with tender care for her family
Even in the occasional feverish .wanderingf
of her mind her thoughts fingered on thai
which in her laborous existence had formed
the very essence of her life, and disclos
ed the once untiring activity of worthy
excellent, and industrious house wife. On
warm sunny DAYS Father Thomas would
carry the weak and now feather-light suf
ferer into the 81 ade of tree in front of the
little house, W., re Abe and his sister pre-.
pared with loving hands couch of pillows
and bedding. There Mother Nancy often
sat for hours together, the chills creeping
through her frame even in the glowing sun
heat. Even then she looked with faint
smile toward her husband, who worked in
the adjoining field, and who cast at inter.
walls q careworn and anxious look towards
his suffering wife; or her eyes followed the
flight of birds that seemed to ascend to Q
higher world, to that far and unknown land
toward which her soul was striving, fol
Mother Nancy was about to close her earth
ly existence although che struggled against
her approaching dissolution.
How beautiful in such moments, the sun
light transfgured the mild countenance O
the parent and dying womsnl How dis
| tinctly was it then revealed that pure
God od-fearing soul was departing this life
| The quiet and pious expression of her fac
was truly spiritual, the beautiful, eloquen
ewes were clearer than ever, and over he
entire figure was poured that holiness will
which the nature of just person in the las
hours of life, like presentment of eterna
happiness, is endowed. And when Sarah
who so early had to take the housewife
place, left the hut and her work now ant
then to attend to her mothers wants-whel
Abe awkward and slovenly as he was, crep
with sorrowful face toward the sufferer
/ side. and looked with his large, intelligen
ewes tearfully upon the invalid, often pluck
| ing shyly but tenderly at the pillows upoI
| which she rested, or overcome with grie
| bent over her powerless and emaciate
hands, mingling the scalding tears with hi
| burr ing kisses-even then she had q smil
| for them, and no worldly anxiety was visi
hle in her pale, sweet face; for as Heave
shed its glorious light over her feature
faith and hope filled her heart and robbe
the thought of death of its horrors.
! A lovely autumn day was drawing to a
end. The sun bad just disappeared behin
the tops of the forest trees; the ether, wit
its light, motionless clouds, glowed in ros
hues and shed soft, golden light over foil
age and field and over the cabin of the Lin
coins. 1t was yet daylight, and the littl
family formed quiet and sad group befor
the house. Legrand, who during the frs
stage of Nancy's illness had repeatedly call
ed at the house of our settlers, now wander
ed again among the Indians of the Fa
West. No one was present but the fathe,
the suffering mother, and her two children
It WAS Q Sunday evening, too. Abe had al
ready, on many Sabbath, undertaken hi
mothers holy Office of reading the Scrip
lures TO the pious and goodly family. Now
again, he eat upon q log near Mother Nan
cy, the old family Bible upon his knees
reading the Gospel in soft but clear voice
His little sister sat beside the roughly-im
proviaed couch of the mother, lookini
dreamily into her pale face and sunkel
| eyes, willie one of the thin hands of the pa
tient woman rested upon the daughter
curly head Father Thomas leaned agains
the tall sycamore, where mighty branche
shadowed the log-cabin and tho sorrwin
little group. His broad chest, acros
1 which his arms were folded
heaved and betrayed the feelings of the hui
band. He gazed motionless into his wife
almost transfgured countenance, over whic
at that moment the evening cast q roseat