The Lincoln homestead in Indiana, in 1820-23, had at the first the
primitive corn-mill in the Indian fashion--a burnt-out block with a
pounder rigged to a well-sweep. A water-mill being set up ten miles
off, on Anderson's Creek, that was superseded, as improvement marched,
by a horse-power one. To this Lincoln, as a lad of sixteen or
seventeen, would carry the corn in a bag upon an old flea-bitten gray
mare. One day, on unhitching the animal and loading it, and running his
arm through the head-gear loop to lead, he had no sooner struck it and
cried "Get up, you de----," when the beast whirled around, and, lashing
out, kicked him in the forehead so that he fell to the ground
insensible. The miller, Hoffman, ran out and carried the youth indoors,
sending for his father, as he feared the victim would not revive. He
did not do so until hours after having been carried home. When
conscious, his faculties, as psychologically ordained, resumed
operations from the instant of suspension, and he uttered the sequel to
his outcry:
"----vil!"
Lincoln's own explanation is thus:
"Just before I struck the mare, my will, through the mind, had set the
muscles of my tongue to utter the expression, and when her heels came
in contact with my head, the whole thing stopped half-cocked, as it
were, and was only fired off when mental energy or force returned."
His friends interpreted the occurrence as a proof of his always
finishing what he commenced.
* * * * *
"NO HEAPING COALS OF FIRE ON THAT HEAD."
The wantonly cruel experiment of testing the sensitiveness in reptiles
armored, passed into a proverb out West in pioneer times. Besides
carving initials and dates on the shell of land tortoises, boys would
fling the creatures against tree or rock to see it perish with its
exposed and lacerated body, or literally place burning coals on the
back. In such cases Lincoln, a boy in his teens, but a redoubtable
young giant, would not only interfere vocally, but with his arms, if
needed.
"Don't terrapins have feelings?" he inquired.
The torturer did not know the right answer, and, persisting in the
treatment, had the shingle wrenched from his hand and the cinders
stamped out, while the sufferer was allowed to go away.
"Well, feelings or none, he won't be burned any more while I am around!"
He did not always have to resort to force in his corrections, as he
obtained the title of "Peacemaker" by other means, and the spell in his
tongue, at that age.
* * * * *