“You never saw such land as this,” remarked John Hanks to Mr. Lincoln. “The land in Indiana can’t compare with this prairie land.”

“I’m convinced of that,” answered Mr. Lincoln; “the half wan’t told us. And we must turn over a big piece of it this spring for corn, and fence it, too. Abe is great on splittin’ rails.”

“He can have a chance to split ’em to his heart’s content now,” continued John. “It’ll take a pile on ’em to fence fifteen acres, and you’ll want to put in as much as that.”

“And fifteen acres of such land as this will make such a corn-field as Indiany farmers are not acquainted with,” added Mr. Lincoln.

“Abe and I can break it up,” continued John, “and fence it into the bargain.”

This was the final decision, after the Lincolns were settled in their new home—that Abraham and John should plough the fifteen acres, and then fence the field. With the four yokes of oxen, each driving two yokes, the fifteen acres were turned over within a week; and as soon as the planting was done, the rail- splitting and fencing commenced in earnest. Abraham and John got out all the rails, and put up the fence around the fifteen acres. Those rails became historic after thirty years, and played an important part in an interesting chapter of our national career, as we shall learn hereafter.

With all his labour at home, Abraham found time to work out considerably in the neighbourhood. Rev. A. Hale, of Springfield, Illinois, visited the locality, after the death of Abraham Lincoln, and one Mrs. Brown related the following to him:—

“I remember Mr. Lincoln. He worked for my old man, and helped make a crap. We lived on the same farm we live on now, and he worked and made a crap, and the next winter they hauled the crap all the way to Galena, and sold it. At that time there was no public-houses, and travellers were obliged to stay at any house along the road that could take them in. One evening a right smart-looking man rode up to the fence, and asked my old man if he could get to stay over night. ‘Well,’ said Mr. Brown, ‘we can feed your crittur, and give you something to eat, but we can’t lodge you unless you can sleep on the bed with the hired man.’ The man hesitated, and asked, ‘Where is he?’ ‘Well,’ said Mr. Brown, ‘you can come and see him.’ So the man got down from his crittur, and Mr. Brown took him around to where, in the shade of the house, Abe lay his full length on the ground, with an open book before him. ‘There,’ said Mr. Brown, pointing to him, ‘he is.’ The stranger looked at him a minute, and said, ‘Well, I think he’ll do;’ and he stayed and slept with the President of the United States.”

It is claimed that Mrs. Brown was wrong in saying that Abraham worked for her husband, the fact being that he worked for one Taylor, near by, and boarded with her. It is probable, also, that he worked for him only at such times, during that first summer in Illinois, as he was not needed at home.

“Abe was the roughest-looking feller I ever saw,” remarked George Cluse, who worked with him occasionally that year; “he was so tall, awkward, and wrinkled!”

“Was he a good worker?”

“None better to be found; and he knew more than any man I ever saw; but his dress was comical.”

“How did he dress?”

“He wore trousers made of flax and tow, cut tight at the ankles, and out at both knees. I looked bad enough myself, but compared with him my dress was superb.” At the time Thomas Lincoln left Indiana, few families in that part of the country used woollen goods. They were unknown there until about 1825.

“I split rails with him a good deal,” continued Cluse. “He’d split more rails in a day than any other man. He was strong as an ox, and never got tired. He made a bargain that season with Nancy Miller, to split