The life of Lincoln during the time the family lived in Kentucky appears
to have been entirely uneventful. He helped his mother--after he was 3
years old--in the simple household duties, went to the district school,
and played with the children of the neighborhood. The only one of young
Lincoln’s playmates now living is an old man nearly 100 years old named
Austin Gollaher, whose mind is bright and clear, and who never tires
of telling of the days Lincoln and he “were little tikes and played
together.” This old man, who yet lives in the log house in which he has
always lived, a few miles from the old Lincoln place, tells entertaining
stories about the President’s boyhood.
Mr. Gollaher says that they were together more than the other boys in
school, that he became fond of his little friend, and he believed that
Abe thought a great deal of him.
In speaking of various events of minor importance in their boyhood days
Mr. Gollaher remarked: “I once saved Lincoln’s life.” Upon being urged to
tell of the occurrence he thus related it: “We had been going to school
together one year; but the next year we had no school, because there were
so few scholars to attend, there being only about twenty in the school
the year before.
“Consequently Abe and I had not much to do; but, as we did not go to
school and our mothers were strict with us, we did not get to see each
other very often. One Sunday morning my mother waked me up early, saying
she was going to see Mrs. Lincoln, and that I could go along. Glad of the
chance, I was soon dressed and ready to go. After my mother and I got
there Abe and I played all through the day.
“While we were wandering up and down the little stream called Knob Creek
Abe said: ‘Right up there’--pointing to the east--‘we saw a covey of
partridges yesterday. Let’s go over and get some of them.’ The stream was
swollen and was too wide for us to jump across. Finally we saw a narrow
foot-log, and we concluded to try it. It was narrow, but Abe said, ‘Let’s
coon it.’
“I went first and reached the other side all right. Abe went about
half-way across, when he got scared and began trembling. I hollered to
him, ‘Don’t look down nor up nor sideways, but look right at me and hold
on tight!’ But he fell off into the creek, and, as the water was about
seven or eight feet deep and I could not swim, and neither could Abe, I
knew it would do no good for me to go in after him.
“So I got a stick--a long water sprout--and held it out to him. He came
up, grabbing with both hands, and I put the stick into his hands. He
clung to it, and I pulled him out on the bank, almost dead. I got him by
the arms and shook him well, and then rolled him on the ground, when the
water poured out of his mouth.
“He was all right very soon. We promised each other that we would never
tell anybody about it, and never did for years. I never told any one of
it until after Lincoln was killed.”