“I’ve already read all the books for miles around.  Besides, I want to see places.  I can’t help it, Ma, I want to get away.”

Sarah looked at him fondly.  She wished that she could find some way to help him.

Abe found ways to help himself.  He was never to go to school again, but he could walk to Rockport to attend trials in the log courthouse.  He liked to listen to the lawyers argue their cases.  Sometimes he would write down what they said on a piece of paper.  Now and then he had a chance to borrow a book that he had not read before from some new settler.  He read the old books over and over again.  He liked to read the newspapers to which Mr. Gentry, Allen’s father, subscribed.  The papers told what was going on in the big world outside of Pigeon Creek.

James Gentry owned the log store at the crossroads, where the little town, Gentryville, had grown up.  His partner, William Jones, was one of Abe’s best friends, and Abe spent nearly every evening at the store.  It became the favorite meeting place for the men and boys who lived close by.

“Howdy, Abe!” Everyone seemed to be saying it at once when he came in.

“The Louisville paper came today,” William Jones might add.  “Here you are!  The fellows have been waiting for you to holler out the news.”

[Illustration]

Abe sat on the counter, swinging his long legs, as he read the newspaper out loud.  The men sat quietly, except when William got up to throw another log on the fire or to light another candle.  Abe read on and on.  After he finished the paper, they talked about what he had read.  They argued about many things from politics to religion.  They always wanted to know what Abe thought.  Many times they stayed until nearly midnight listening to him.

* * * * *

One evening, not long after Abe’s nineteenth birthday, he walked home from the store in great excitement.  He had been very sad since his sister Sally had died in January, but tonight he seemed more cheerful.  Sarah looked up to find him standing in the doorway.

“What do you think has happened, Ma?” he asked.  “I am going to New Orleans.”

“How come, Abe?”

Sarah knew that prosperous farmers sometimes loaded their corn and other farm products on big flatboats.  These flatboats were floated down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers to New Orleans, where the cargoes were sold.  But the Lincolns raised only enough for their own use.  They never had anything left over to sell.  Nor could they afford to build a flatboat for the long trip down the rivers.

“How come?” Sarah asked again.

Abe seized her around the waist and danced her across the floor.  She was out of breath but laughing when he let her go.

“Allen Gentry is taking a cargo of farm truck down to New Orleans to sell,” he explained.  “His pa has hired me to help on the flatboat.  Mr. Gentry will pay me eight dollars a month.  I reckon Pa will be pleased about that.”