CHAPTER III

THE BOY LINCOLN'S BEST TEACHER

At Knob Creek the boy began to go to an "A B C" school. His first

teacher was Zachariah Riney. Of course, there were no regular schools in

the backwoods then. When a man who "knew enough" happened to come along,

especially if he had nothing else to do, he tried to teach the children

of the pioneers in a poor log schoolhouse. It is not likely that little

Abe went to school more than a few weeks at this time, for he never had

a year's schooling in his life. There was another teacher afterward at

Knob Creek--a man named Caleb Hazel. Little is known of either of these

teachers except that he taught little Abe Lincoln. If their pupil had

not become famous the men and their schools would never have been

mentioned in history.

An old man, named Austin Gollaher, used to like to tell of the days when

he and little Abe went to school together. He said:

"Abe was an unusually bright boy at school, and made splendid progress

in his studies. Indeed, he learned faster than any of his schoolmates.

Though so young, he studied very hard."

Although Nancy Lincoln insisted on sending the children to school, when

there was any, she had a large share in Abe's early education, just as

she had taught his father to write his own name. She told them Bible

stories and such others as she had picked up in her barren, backwoods

life. She and her husband were too religious to believe in telling their

children fairy tales.

The best thing of all was the reading of "The Pilgrim's Progress" during

the long Winter evenings, after the wood was brought in and Father Tom

had set his traps and done his other work for the night. Nancy's voice

was low, with soft, southern tones and accents. Tom and the children

enjoyed the story of Christian's pilgrimage from the City of Destruction

to the Celestial City the more because of her love for the story she was

reading to them, as they lay on bearskin rugs before the blazing fire.

Abe was only six, but he was a thoughtful boy. He tried to think of some

way to show his gratitude to his mother for giving them so much

pleasure. While out gathering sticks and cutting wood for the big

fireplace, a happy thought came to him--he would cut off some spicewood

branches, hack them up on a log, and secrete them behind the cabin.

Then, when the mother was ready to read again, and Sarah and the father

were sitting and lying before the fire, he brought in the hidden

branches and threw them on, a few twigs at a time, to the surprise of

the others. It worked like a charm; the spicewood boughs not only added

to the brightness of the scene but filled the whole house with the

"sweet smelling savour" of a little boy's love and gratitude.

No one can fathom the pleasure of that precious memory throughout those

four lives, as the story of Great Heart and Christiana followed

Christian along the path that "shineth more and more unto the perfect

day." While the father and sister were delighted with the crackle,

sparkle and pleasant aroma of the bits of spicewood, as Abe tossed them

upon the fire, no one could appreciate the thoughtful act of the boy so

much as his mother. It would be strange if her eyes did not fill, as she

read to her fascinated family, but that was not the sort of thing the

fondest mother could speak of.

Little did Nancy dream that, in reading to her son of the devotion of

Great Heart to his charges, she was fostering a spirit in her little son

that would help him make the noble pilgrimage from their hovel to the

highest home in the land, where another President of the United States

would refer to him as "the Great Heart of the White House." If any one

could have looked ahead fifty years to see all this, and could have told

Nancy Hanks Lincoln, she would not have believed it. After her own life

of toil and hardship it would have seemed to her "too good to be true."

But in the centuries following the humble yet beautiful career of "the

Backwoods Boy" from the hut to the White House, history keeps the whole

world saying with bated breath, "the half was never told!"

AN OLD MAN'S STORY OF SAVING ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S LIFE

Austin Gollaher, grown to manhood, still living in his old log cabin

near the Lincoln house in Knob Creek nearly twenty years after

Lincoln's assassination, and gave the following account of an adventure

he had with the little Lincoln boy:

"I once saved Lincoln's life. 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.' The stream was too wide for us

to jump across. Finally we saw a foot-log, and decided 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 (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 I 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 till after Lincoln was killed."

Abraham Lincoln's parents were religious in their simple way. The boy

was brought up to believe in the care of the Father in Heaven over the

affairs of this life. The family attended camp meetings and preaching

services, which were great events, because few and far between, in those

primitive days. Abe used afterward to get his playmates together and

preach to them in a way that sometimes frightened them and made them

cry.

No doubt young Lincoln learned more that was useful to him in after life

from the wandering preachers of his day than he did of his teachers

during the few months that he was permitted to go to school. But his

best teacher was his mother. She would have been proud to have her boy

grow up to be a traveling minister or exhorter, like Peter Cartwright,

"the backwoods preacher."

Nancy Hanks Lincoln "builded better than she knew." She would have been

satisfied with a cabin life for her son. She little knew that by her own

life and teaching she was raising up the greatest man of his age, and

one of the grandest men in all history, to become the ruler of the

greatest nation that the world has ever seen. She did her duty by her

little boy and he honored her always during her life and afterward. No

wonder he once exclaimed when he thought of her:

"All I am or hope to be I owe to my sainted mother."

And out of her poor, humble life, that devoted woman

"Gave us Lincoln and never knew!"

The Story of Young Abraham Lincoln · 第 3 / 21 章