dren and
usually when he went to his office in the morning, the baby was perched
on his shoulder, while the others held on to his coat tails and followed
behind. All the children in Springfield felt he was their friend. No
wonder, for he was never too busy to help them. One morning as he was
hurrying to his law office, he saw a little girl, very much dressed up,
crying as if her heart would break. Her sobs almost shook her off the
doorstep where she sat. Mr. Lincoln unlatched the gate and went up the
walk, singing out: "Well, well, now what does all this mean?"

"Oh, Mr. Lincoln, I was going to Chicago to visit my aunt. I have my
ticket in my purse and," here the sobs came faster than ever, "the
expressman can't get here in time for my trunk."

"How big is your trunk?"

"This size," stretching her hands apart.

"Pooh, I'll carry that trunk to the station for you, myself. Where is
it?"

The little girl pointed to the hall, and in a minute Mr. Lincoln, with
his tall silk hat on his head, his long coat tails flying out behind,
the trunk on his shoulder, was striding to the railroad station, as the
now happy little girl skipped beside him. He was not going to have the
child disappointed.

[Illustration: "How big is your trunk?" _Page 88._]

Mr. Lincoln had a big heart. It never bothered him to stop long enough
to do a kindness. One bitterly cold day he saw an old man chopping wood.
He was feeble and was shaking with the cold. Mr. Lincoln watched him for
a few minutes and then asked him how much he was to be paid for the
whole lot. "One dollar," he answered, "and I need it to buy shoes." "I
should think you did," said the lawyer, noticing that the poor old man's
toes showed through the holes of those he was wearing. Then he gently
took the axe from the man's hands and said: "You go in by the fire and
keep warm, and I'll do the wood." Mr. Lincoln made the chips fly. He
chopped so fast that the passers-by never stopped talking about it.

Abraham Lincoln was known to be honest, unselfish, and clear-headed. He
had grown very wise by much reading and study. Finally the people of the
United States paid him the greatest honor that can come to an American.
They made him President. Yes, this man who had taught himself to write
in the Kentucky log cabin was President of the United States!

As President, Mr. Lincoln lived in style at the White House. But he was
just the same quiet, modest man that he had always been. He was b