Morning journal and courier., 1889-02-11

Abe, he killed turkey hen and was SC proud he couldn't stop tellin' about it till
 Tom told him to shut up. It wasn't often
 he cared to kill things less he took lots oi pains to do it. He wanted books most oi
 all, and wildcats was @ good deal p1entie,
 than books them days. I taught him his
 letters and we spelled clear through Web
 ster's spelling-book twice before Abe got
 tired of it. He tuck to writin', . practisin l on the rails of the fence or his mothers
 punoheon floor with bit of charcoal. Then ] we got some wrappin' paper at the store and
 I made ink out of blackberry, briar root and copperas that eat the paper. The pens ]
 made out of turkey buzzard quills. After
 he learned to write he'd scrawl his name al, l over everything and make Tom mad. Dem ny. he'd say, look at that, will you, "Abra-
 ham Lincoln" that stands for me. Don't
 look much ike me, does itP He'd cut that
 on tree barEs to mark the trees he wanted to l cut down, write it in the sand down by the 1 creek, and every rail on the place had his | name on it."
 | "Well, he wrote it on something better
 than tree barks and in sand"
 "Yes, reekin he did. It was a surprise
 to him and to me too, because when man is
 as honest as Abe was it stands in his way 1 sometimes. He never looked to be 8 great man, but he did want to find out things l Denny he'd say, the things I want to
 know are ali in books. My best friend is the
 man who will get me a book We'll, I got
 him book after a while. It was one that | told about sailer who got so near 8 rock that it drawsd ali the nails out of his boat and he got duckin'."
 "Sindbad the sailor in the Arabian Nights.''
 l "Heys We'll, reckin ain't no scholar. ! But Abe'd lay on his stummiok and read out
 loud to me and sairy.. Then Tom'd come in | and say, See here, Abe, yer mother can't
 work with you botherin' her, but Sairy ! would tell him to go on, and she'd laugh when he laughed, though I believe it went in at one ear and out at the other, jist as it did | with me. But Abe would lay there by the i fireplace, the book on the floor between his elbows, and chucklin' to hisself 'Abe,' says I, many time, 'them's all lies.' sMigh. | ty darned good lies,' he'd say, and go on. I | reckin he read the yarns a dozen times 1 That's purity nigh all he had to read except l the statutes of Indiana, and he used to lay /! over them away into the night. He got holt l of Life of Washington and split four l cords of wood for just that little book. Tom | couldn't read word. The speeches of Hen | ry Clay he learned by heart, and they made | g whig out of him; and then when he went | to Washington he messed with some fellers | who jst naturally made an abolition man out ] of him. reckin Giddings had good deal to do with it.
 "He could jist lay men in the shade with his stories, and I thought mebby that woman | in the book who always had a story fur ey- cry occasion had something to do with it. asked him once where he got holt of so blamed many lies, and he said, Every story that has meaning isn't lie, Denny. God tells truth in parables.' His stofies were like them. He'd fire one O them into a jury and set every man acryin', but he wouldn't defend man unless he believed ! him innocent. He throwed up good case onct because he found out the man was guilty. That's the reason they called him l Honest Abe.'
 "He wanted to know so many things that when man would stop at their house Tom would go cut and say, "Light, strang- ers" the way it was polite to do. Abe, he'd come looping out on his long legs, throw one over the rail fence, and began askin' questions Then Tom'd tell him to quit, and by'n by he'd have to bang him at the ! side of the headito git him to stop. Then Abe l he'd go off spell and fire sticks at the snowbirds whistlin'. Pap thinks it ain't polite to ask questions. We'll reckin l wasn't born to be polite. He'd play jokes
 on people, too.
 | to stoppin' at the house and Abe triedo t get him to explain the miracles, and got the old feller worked up that when Abe asked him. Who was the father of Zebee- dee's childrenF he couldn't tell. He could l come home from sermon and repeat every
 bit of it. Many time when Ssiry couldn't go Abe would hold church for her afterward herself. He had to make his own amuse- l ment that away. Tom was kind O shift less."
 s'Now, father" Mrs. Bowling, Dennis Hanks daughter, spoke up, "Grandfather Lincoln was just as good man as ever l lived. Just because he couldn't get nothin' ahead people called him shiftless. He made good livin' and gave it away to everybody who came. He never drank nor played cards and he wasn't lazy. He was good cabinet maker and looked after his own clearin', but he couldn't keep anything after 1 he made it. You remember how Tom made l the coffin his first wife was buried in. Af- ter that he didn't seem to care sntil Sairy Johnston came and strengthened things up. Inside of year Tom had filled the house with pretty good furniture"
 "Well, people have different idys about that Abe wouldn't aben the man he was | if it hadn't a-ben fur his mother and steps mother Sairy, she said to him: Abe, you 1 git holt of some muslin some'eres and have 8 white shirt so you can go to peoples hous- l es right So when he was only thirteen years old he cut nine cords of wood and kot nine yards of muslin with which Sairy bleached and made him two shirts. My! but hs proud of 'em. Everything else he hal was homespun. He never had anything but jeans pants till he went to lanin'. We lived on corn dodgers them days, salt pork, game, wild fruit stewed in
 molesses and milk. Abe'd stuffed his pock-
 cts full of dodgers and gnsw piece for din-
 ner and jist go on ploughing. There was
 hoss mill about eighteen miles away with
 s plug and sweep pulled by hoss. Abe
 use to say his hound could eat flour faster'n
 they made 1t, and then be hungry for sup
 per-" The old man chuckled in memory of
 pioneer days.
 "Abe used to like to talk of them days, but it made Mary Lincoln powerful mad, and then Abe'd shut me up. If Abe was low down you needn't be throwin' it up to
 him. she'd say, but I reckon Abe didn't
 look at it that way. He was as gentle with Mary as an elephant would be with 8 skeeter,
 and she could sting. He was so big. When
 we was boys sand raised together he'd fling one of his long legs upon my shoulder and throw me as quick it made my head swim. | Trees jist fell like three men awhsckin' at | them when he got into the woods. But he never quarreled. He's broke up many g | rowdy crowd by telling story and gittin 'en all to laughin'. Onct feller told him l to come on and fight, and then he lay down l and didn't speak for half hour-Abe made him so blamed tired.
 "Abe was so tall that he had to stoop to | go into the cabin door. Sairy was migh- | ty clean woman and kept everything white- | washed. She used to tell Abe that his fleet | being clean didn't matter half so much as | his head, because she could SCOUT the flour. | but she didn't want his head rubbing all around her white ceiling I remember once he got all the young 'uns dipped in their feet in the mud, then turned lem upside l down, and walked all over the ceiling, the m | screaming with laughter, and Sairy come | in. It was so funny; she jist sot down and
 laughed, though she said Abe ought to be | spanked. He whitewashed the ceiling fo1
 her whiter than ever. He jist used to make
 the neighborhood howl, with his yarns, and | I bet he made up every one of 'em.'' HIN CEsASMERE CHU RCH YARD. The Graves ofGreen, COlerIdges Arthur CIOugh and others.