The grief that came then to A-bra-ham Lin-coln made its mark on him, a stamp that went with him through life.
When that moth-er died, that dear moth-er, to whom he gave so much love, the boy felt that he did not want to live an-y long-er. He thought his heart would break. He staid days by his moth-er’s grave. He could not eat. He could not sleep. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Spar-row, the guests, died. The strange ill-ness came to them. It came, al-so, e-ven to the beasts of the fields in that land. Those were sad days.
Nan-cy Hanks Lin-coln was 33 years old when she died. Her hus-band, Thom-as, made a cof-fin for her of green lum-ber cut with a whip-saw, and she, with oth-ers, was bur-ied in a small “clear-ing” made in the woods. There were no pray-ers or hymns. It was great grief to young A-bra-ham that the good man of God who spoke in the old home was not there to say some words at that time. It was then that the ten-year old child wrote his first let-ter. It was hard work, for he had had small chance to learn that art. But his love for his moth-er led his hand so that he put down the words on pa-per, and a friend took them five scores of miles off. Good Par-son El-kins took the poor note sent from the boy he loved, and, with his heart full of pit-y for the great grief which had come to his old friends, and be-cause of his deep re-gard for the no-ble wom-an who had gone to her rest, he made the long jour-ney, though weeks passed ere he could stand by that grave and say the words A-bra-ham longed to hear.
[CHAPTER III.]
READING BY THE FIRELIGHT; THE NEW MOTHER; THE FIRST DOLLAR.
With moth-er gone, Sa-rah Lin-coln must keep the house, do the work, sew and cook for fa-ther and broth-er. She was 11 years old. The boy did his part but though he kept a bright fire on the hearth, it was still a sad home when moth-er was not there.
Books came to give a bit of cheer. An a-rith-me-tic was found in some way and al-so a co-py of Æ-sop’s Fa-bles. For a slate a shov-el was used. For a pen-cil a charred stick did the work.
A year went by, and one day Thom-as Lin-coln left home. He soon came back and brought a new wife with him. She was Sa-rah Bush John-ston, an old friend of E-liz-a-beth-town days. She had three chil-dren—John, Sa-rah and Ma-til-da. A kind man took them and their goods in a four-horse cart way to In-di-an-a.
A great change then came to the Lin-coln house. There were three bright girls and three boys who made a deal of noise. A door was hung, a floor laid, a win-dow put in. There were new chairs, a bu-reau, feath-er-beds, new clothes, neat ways, good food, lov-ing care, and much to show A-bra-ham that there was still some hope in the world.