It may well be supposed, however, that the books upon which Abe could lay hands were few in number. There were no libraries, either public or private, in the neighborhood, and he was obliged to read what he could get rather than those which he would have chosen, had he been able to select from a large collection. Still, it is a matter of interest to know what books he actually did read at this formative period. Some of them certainly were worth reading, such as “Æsop’s Fables,” “Robinson Crusoe,” “Pilgrim’s Progress,” a History of the United States, and Weem’s “Life of Washington.” The last book Abe borrowed from a neighbor, old Josiah Crawford, (I follow the statement of Mr. Lamon, rather than of Dr. Holland, who says it was Master Crawford, his teacher). When not reading it, he laid it away in a part of the cabin where he thought it would be free from harm, but it so happened that just behind the shelf on which he placed it was a great crack between the logs of the wall. One night a storm came up suddenly, the rain beat in through the crevice, and soaked the borrowed book through and through. The book was almost utterly spoiled. Abe felt very uneasy, for a book was valuable in his eyes, as well as in the eyes of its owner.
He took the damaged volume and trudged over to Mr. Crawford’s in some perplexity and mortification.
“Well, Abe, what brings you over so early?” said Mr. Crawford.
“I’ve got some bad news for you,” answered Abe, with lengthened face.
“Bad news! What is it?”
“You know the book you lent me—the ‘Life of Washington’?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Well, the rain last night spoiled it,” and Abe showed the book, wet to a pulp inside, at the same time explaining how it had been injured.
“It’s too bad, I vum! You’d ought to pay for it, Abe. You must have been dreadful careless.”
“I’d pay for it if I had any money, Mr. Crawford.”