life went on from day to day till, when "Abe" was ten years old, the dear moth-er, to whom he gave so much love, went to her home on high. The boy thought his heart would break then. He staid by her grave and all the days were dark to him. It was a great grief to the child that the good man of God who spoke in the old home was not there to say some words at that time. Then it was that the boy wrote his first let-ter. The last year of his life in the old place a man had come there who taught both Sa-*rah and Abraham and a few more near by. Now the pen could be of use. That poor note was sent to ask the good Par-son El-kin to come and pray at his moth-er's grave. The kind man heard the call, and went five scores of miles to say those words.
Books were what the lad thought he must get. They were scarce in that land. One must go miles to find one. There came a chance one day. A man, far off, had Weems' Life of Wash-ing-ton. The boy got the loan of it, and, full of joy, took it home in his shirt. The words found in that book made a stamp on young Lin-coln. It made him think and feel that he, too, might be of use in this world some day if he were brave and sought to do right at all times.
As Lin-coln grew up he found work on a flat-boat to trade skins down South. He was glad to go and see the world. This was in 1828. It was then that he first saw a man flog a slave in chains. It was a sight to make him ill, and one which staid by him.
The raft work was so well done that a chance soon came for the young man to take charge of a mill and store in the town of New Sa-lem. Here a name for truth was won. All could trust the bright youth. The smart tales he told
