“We go down, not the sun,” Abraham continued. “The sun stands still.”

“It moves enough for me,” interrupted Miss Roby. Abraham went on to explain:—

“You see the earth turns from west to east, and the revolution of the earth carries us under, as it were; we do the sinking, as you call it. The sun does not really set; it only appears to.”

“Abe! what a fool you are!” exclaimed the surprised girl, who began to think that too much learning had made her friend mad.

Forty years afterwards Miss Roby, who became Mrs Gentry, said,—

“Now I know that I was the fool, not Lincoln. I am now thoroughly satisfied that Abe knew the general laws of astronomy and the movements of the heavenly bodies. He was better read then than the world knows, or is likely to know exactly. No man could talk to me that night as he did unless he had known something of geography as well as astronomy. He often and often commented or talked to me about what he had read,—seemed to read it out of the book as he went along,—did so to others. He was the learned boy among us unlearned folks. He took great pains to explain, and could do it so simply. He was diffident, then, too.”

To return to the trip to New Orleans. As soon as the cargo was loaded, the two boys started upon their voyage, Abraham serving as “bow-hand, to work the front oars.” It was a very important event in the life of our young friend, and his heart was greatly elated. He was floating out into the broad world now. His young eyes would behold its sights and scenes for the first time. It is not strange that he pushed out into the Ohio with a glad heart, and moved down towards the “father of waters” with such anticipation as never fired his breast before.

“I say, Abe, how many times are you goin’ to upset before reaching the Mississippi?” asked Allen.

“I hardly think we shall do it more than once,” answered Abraham, “unless you have a better faculty than I have for loading up again in the water.”

“I didn’t think of that; it would be a hard matter to reload at the bottom of the river.”

“Yes; and we must look out for accidents, or your father will wish he had never sent us. I hope we shall make a capital thing of it.”

“I hope so too, or we shall never have another such a chance. The old man never would have sent me if it hadn’t been for you, Abe.”

“How so?”

“Because he thinks you can do most anything that’s possible, and so he was willing to risk me and all the cargo with you.”

“Pshaw! You are fooling now.”

“No such thing; it’s the living truth. I expect he thought that you could keep me and the cargo from sinkin’ if we did upset.”

“Well, my mother rather expects the opposite, I judge, by her talk,” replied Abraham. “She thinks it is rather a risky piece of business to send us on such a trip.”

“I’spose ’tis,” was Allen’s thoughtful reply; “and it stands us in hand to do the very best we can.”