The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1896-01-07

Hbrahan Lincoln.
1.-THE following beautiful poem is published in
the MESSENGER by request !
Abe Lincoln wun, reckon not mile rom
where we be.
Right here in Springfield. nlInoise, Abe used TO
room with me.
He represented Sangamon, tried it for Cal
houn,
An me an Abe was cronies then; III not fergit
il soon.
I'll not tergit them happy days we used TO sort
Together in little room that didn't have no
latch
To keep the other fellers out that liked to come
an stay,
An hear them dasted funny things Abe Lincoln
used TO say.
Them days Abe Lincoln an myself was pore as
anything,
Jobs turkey WASH pOrer; but we used to Ian
an sing,
An Abe was clean shuk full o. fun; but he was
as sharp as tacks,
Fer that there comic face O. his'n was fortified
with fac's.
Some fellers used TO Ian at Abe because his
boots and pants
Appeared TO be on distant terms, but when he'd
git chance
He'd give 'em sech a drubbin' that they'd clean
fcrgii his looks;
Fer Abe made up in common sense the things
he lacked in books.
WulI. mex election got beat, an Abe come
back alone;
KEEP a-clinkin' on the farm. pervidin' fer my
own.
You see. had a woman an two twins that
called me paw.
An Abe he KEEP a-oiinkin'. too. at politics an
law.
didn't hear much more OF Abe out there in
ole Calhoun.
Fer was out o. politics an kind O. out o.
tune.
18th things that happened; but way back I'd
named my two twin boys
One Abraham, one Lincoln; the finest team in
nlinoise
the candidates
NMN ole lrIe0u aOtl EIChAucuh " AACoc
United States;
An though had the rheumatic an felt run
down an blue
entered politics again an helped to pull him
through.
An when mex spring he called fer men to fetch
their grit an guns
An keep the Ship o. State anost. sent him
both my sons,
An would 'a-gone myself an loved TO make
the bullets whiz
F it hadn' been couldn' walk on accouut O.
rheumatic.
wull Abe, my little Abe, mean. he started
out with Grant;
They buried him at Shiloh. Excuse me, but
can't o.
Help feeIin' father-iike, you know, fer them
was likely boys;
There wasn't two another sech that went rom
nlinoise.
An Lincoln, my son Lincoln, he went on by his
self
A-grievin' fer his brother Abe they'd laid upon
the shelf.
An when he came to vicksburg he was all
thrashed out an sick;
An yit, when there was fightin', Link at right
in the thick.
One night 'afore them rebel guns my pore boy
went to sleep
On picket dooty; no. sir, 'tsint the shame that
makes me weep;
It's how Abe Lincoln, President, at washing
ton. D. c.,
Had time to ricolleck the days he used to room
with me.
Fer don't you know 1 wrote to him they'd
sentenced to be shot
His namesake, Lincoln Pettigrew, in shame to
die an rot;
The son o. his ole crony, an the last o. the
twin boys
He used to plague me so much about ut Spring
iel', nlinoise.
Did he : did Abe wull, now, he sent tele-
graph so quick
1t burnt them bottles on the poles an made the
lightnin' sick
Pardon for Lincoln Pettigrew. A. Lincoln
President"
The boy has got that paper yit the telegraph
Abe sent.
guess knowed Abe Lincoln an now rv'
come down here,
FRS time I've been in Sprinfer for nearl,
sixty year
To see his grave an tombstone, because
because, you see,
We legislvted In cshoots, Abe Lincoln did an M