Thomas Lincoln could neither read nor write. He had not been to school a single day in his life. His wife could read passably, but she could not write sufficiently to undertake a letter. She could sign her name to a document, and perhaps do a little more in the same line; while her husband could only make his mark.

“You can learn,” said his bride to him, soon after the twain became one flesh. “Never too old to learn.”

“That’s a question,” responded her husband, who was one of the easy bodies, who could scarcely think it worth while for a man to go to school, even to his wife, at twenty-eight years of age.

“It’s not a question at all,” responded Mrs. L. “You can learn to write your name, if nothing more, and that will be a great improvement over making your mark I can learn you as much as that.”

At length the good-natured husband consented to take lessons of his wife in penmanship; and he actually set to work to accomplish his purpose. The most that he accomplished, however, was to learn to write his name so that ingenious people could read it. He lifted himself out of that ignorant and unambitious class who are content to make their X.

At this time Thomas Lincoln and his wife were members of the Baptist Church, showing that they cast in their lot with the best people of the county, and aspired to a Christian life. Mrs. Lincoln was a more devout follower of Christ than her husband, and was more gifted mentally. Dr. Holland says: “She was a slender, pale, sad, and sensitive woman, with much in her nature that was truly heroic, and much that shrank from the rude life around her.” Lamon says: “By her family her understanding was considered something wonderful.” There is no doubt that she was a bright, sensible, brave Christian woman, whose father removed from Virginia into Kentucky about the time that the father of Thomas Lincoln did. Thomas appears to have been satisfied with his choice, and her influence over him was strong and elevating.

When Abraham was four years old, his father removed to a more fertile and picturesque spot on Knob Creek, six miles from Hodgensville. This creek empties into the Rolling Fork, the Rolling Fork into Salt River, and Salt River into the Ohio, twenty-four miles from Louisville. How so poor a man could purchase so much of a farm (two hundred and thirty-eight acres) for one hundred and eighteen pounds, seems mysterious, until we learn the fact that, at the end of the year, he sold two hundred acres for one hundred pounds, reserving but thirty-eight acres for himself. But even this condition of his affairs shows a decided advance in contrast with the pitiable poverty that inducted him into wedded life. Then, too, the fact that he aspired after a more fertile and attractive location, and actually planted from six to eight acres the first year of his residence on Knob Creek, proves that the spirit of a larger enterprise possessed his soul. Somehow his marriage to Nancy Hanks had raised him above that restless, thriftless, aimless life that characterized his youth and early manhood.

It was on Knob Creek that Abraham, or “Abe,” as he was familiarly called by his parents and other people, was initiated into fishing and other sports. On Nolin Creek he hunted “ground-hogs” with a precocious boy, Johnnie Duncan, who afterwards became quite widely known as the Rev. John Duncan. On Knob Creek he played in the water, took long tramps, and enjoyed himself generally with one Billy Gallaher. For a boy of his age (but six or seven at that time) he was adventurous and enterprising. One of his venturesome sports was, to catch hold of a branch of a sycamore tree and swing over the water. One day, when indulging in this risky sport, with his no less venturesome Billy, he lost his hold of the limb and plunged into the water. If Billy had not been a cool, smart, efficient boy, Thomas Lincoln would have lost a good son on that day, and the United States of America a good President. But Billy was equal to the occasion, and, by brave efforts, succeeded in delivering “Abe” from a watery grave.

Another boy, Dennis F. Hanks, his cousin, was one of his boon companions, though a little older than himself. Thomas Sparrow, who reared Nancy Hanks to womanhood (Mrs. Lincoln), had given Dennis a home in his family, and Sparrow was now a neighbour of Thomas Lincoln, and Dennis and “Abe” playmates. Dennis was a great lover of hunting and fishing, and “Abe” accompanied him upon many a long tramp, though he was not old enough to use firearms; nor did he ever become expert in either hunting or fishing.