A few years after his mother's death his father married again, and
removed about a mile further up the hill, to a place called Berry Brow.
This village is situated about two miles out of Huddersfield, and is
the notable place where "little Abe" spent the greater part of his
days. It stands on the brow of a hill which bounds one side of the
wealthy and picturesque valley that winds along from Huddersfield to
Penistone. It boasts one main street, which sidles along down the
hill-side with here and there a clever curve, just enough to prevent
you from taking a full-length view of the street; on and down it goes,
the houses on the one side looking down on those opposite, and
evidently having the advantages of being higher up in the world than
their neighbours, until it terminates in the highroad leading out of
the village towards Honley and Penistone.

Run your eye down over the breast of the hill, and you have a
delightful landscape picture, comprising almost everything which an
artist would deem desirable for an effective painting, and a _little to
spare_. There, nearly at the bottom of the gradient, stands the
handsome old village church, with its tower and pinnacles, reaching up
among the tall trees; and around it, a consecrated enclosure, guarding
the monuments of the dead, which are mingled with melancholy shrubs,
planted there by hands of mourners whose memories of the departed are
fitly symbolized by those perpetual evergreens. On this side and
beyond the sleeping graveyard, on either arm, are scattered, in pretty
confusion, the houses of those who have retired from the main street
for the sake of a little garden plot or other convenience. Now there
is some pretence at a terrace, numbering two or three dwellings; then
an abrupt break, and houses stand independent and alone as if quietly
contemplating the lovely scenery of valley, hill, and forest, which are
visible from that spot. Down there in the bottom of the valley, stand
those mighty many-windowed cloth mills, whose great flat, unspeakable
faces, seem to be covered all over with spectacles, out of which they
can look for ever without winking; there the men, women, and children,
born and bred in the hills, find honest toil with which to win bread
and comforts; while with a twisting course there runs along the wealthy
dale a little river, from which these giant mills suck up their daily
drink. Across the narrow valley and you are into a dense woody growth,