Darkness fell upon the busy lovers and soon the firelight and the glow of many candles filled the homely cabin with flickering shadows and a soft beautiful color.

“Supper is ready,” she said, when the venison steak had been deposited on the platter.

“Bim, I love you not as most men love,” he said as They stood a moment by the side of the table.  “From the bottom of my heart I do respect you for your honor and good faith and when I think of that and of all you have suffered for my sake I bow my head and ask God to make me worthy of such a helper.”

They sat down to this unusual wedding feast and as we leave them the windows of the little cabin fling their light far out upon the level plain; we hear the sound of merry laughter and of the tall grasses rustling and reeling joyously in the breeze.  The moon in mid-heaven and the innumerable host around it seem to know what is passing on the edge of the Grand Prairie and to be well pleased.  Surely there is nothing that finds a quicker echo in the great heart of the world than human happiness!

CHAPTER XXV

BEING A BRIEF MEMOIR BY THE HONORABLE AND VENERABLE MAN KNOWN IN THESE
PAGES AS JOSIAH TRAYLOR, WHO SAW THE GREAT PROCESSION OF EVENTS BETWEEN
ANDREW JACKSON AND WOODROW WILSON AND ESPECIALLY THE MAKING AND THE END
OF LINCOLN.

Now, as I have done often sitting in the chimney corner at the day’s end, I look back at my youth and manhood and tell, with one eye upon the clock, of those years of fulfillment in the progress of our beloved pilgrim.  There are four and twenty of them that I shall try to review in as many minutes.  At this distance I see only the high places—­one looming above another like steps in a stairway.

The years of building and sentiment ended on the fourth of November, 1842, when he and Mary Todd were joined in marriage.  Now, like one having taken note of the storm clouds, he strengthens the structure.

Mary tried to teach him fine manners.  It was a difficult undertaking.  Often, as might have been expected, she lost her patience.  Mary was an excellent girl, but rather kindlesome and pragmatic.  Like most of the prairie folk, for instance, Abe Lincoln had been accustomed to reach for the butter with his own knife, and to find rest in attitudes extremely indolent and unbecoming.  He enjoyed sprawling on the floor in his shirt-sleeves and slippers with a pillow under his head and a book in his hand.  He had a liking for ample accommodation not fully satisfied by a bed or a lounge.  Mary undertook to turn him into new ways and naturally there was irritation in the house, but I think they got along very well together for all that.  Mary grew fond of him and proud of his great talents and was a devoted wife.  For years she did the work of the house and bore him children.  He milked the cow and took care of the horse when he was at home.