n; the other boys
planted the corn in what we called the big field--it contained seven
acres--and I dropped the pumpkin seed. I dropped two seeds in every
other row and every other hill. The next Sunday morning there came a big
rain in the hills--it did not rain a drop in the valley, but the water,
coming through the gorges, washed the ground, corn, pumpkin seeds and
all, clear off the field!"

Although this was the last thing Lincoln could remember doing on that
farm, it is not at all likely that it was the last thing he did there,
for Thomas Lincoln was not the man to plant corn in a field he was about
to leave. (The Lincolns moved away in the fall.)

Another baby boy was born at Knob Creek farm; a puny, pathetic little
stranger. When this baby was about three years old, the father had to
use his skill as a cabinet maker in making a tiny coffin, and the
Lincoln family wept over a lonely little grave in the wilderness.

About this time Abe began to learn lessons in practical patriotism. Once
when Mr. Lincoln was asked what he could remember of the War of 1812, he
replied:

"Nothing but this: I had been fishing one day and caught a little fish
which I was taking home. I met a soldier on the road, and, having been
told at home that we must be good to the soldiers, I gave him my fish."

An old man, Major Alexander Sympson, who lived not far from the Lincolns
at this period, left this description of "a mere spindle of a boy," in
one of his earliest attempts to defend himself against odds, while
waiting at the neighboring mill while a grist was being ground.

"He was the shyest, most reticent, most uncouth and awkward-appearing,
homeliest and worst-dressed of any in the crowd. So superlatively
wretched a butt could not hope to look on long unmolested. He was
attacked one day as he stood near a tree by a larger boy with others at
his back. But the crowd was greatly astonished when little Lincoln
soundly thrashed the first, the second, and third boy in succession; and
then, placing his back against the tree, he defied the whole crowd, and
told them they were a lot of cowards."

Evidently Father Tom, who enjoyed quite a reputation as a wrestler, had
give the small boy a few lessons in "the manly art of self-defense."

Meanwhile the little brother and sister were learning still better
things at their mother's knee, alternately hearing and reading stories
from the Bible, "The Pilgrim's Progress," "AEsop's Fables," "Robin