Si Klegg, Book 2

by John McElroy

  CHAPTER XXII. TRYING TO EDUCATE ABRAHAM LINCOLN

  TOO HIGH-PRESSURE SCHOOLING--THE BOYS ON PICKET.

  ALL THREE of the men at once became guardians of Abraham Lincoln, and intheir several ways heartily interested in his welfare.

  The Deacon was fired by the missionary spirit of his kind and class.

  "No use talkin' no more about the heathen 'On Greenland's icymountains,' or any place else," he communed with himself that evening,as he sat and smoked, and occasionally glanced at the ebon face of thesleeper in the corner. "Providence has cut out a job for me, and sentit home. Rather, He sent me where I couldn't help stumblin' upon it,and reckonizin' it. The responsibility to Him is clear. I've got heathenenough to last me for a 'coon's age, to lift that poor, ignorant soulup, and bring it to a knowledge of Christian ways. He's not nice norpurty; never heard of a pagan that wuz. Wouldn't be pagans if they wuz.But he's a man and a brother, and the Bible says that I'm my brother'skeeper. I'll keep him agin fifty-'leven o' that old snortin' rebel andCopperhead Blowhard Billings. I wuzzent brung up in the woods to bescared by the hootin' of an owl."

  "We might take him along with us, Si," said Shorty, in a low tone, witha nod toward Abraham{267} Lincoln. "We could make a bully cook out ofhim. We could have no end of fun with him. We could learn him lots o'tricks. He's as strong as an ox, and after I'd give him a few lessonsin puttin' up his hands, he'd knock out that sassy nigger o' theColonel's."

  "I think so, too," acquiesced Si, with an estimating glance at thesleeper.

  Abraham Lincoln's education began bright and early the next morning,when Shorty kicked and shook him into wakefulness at the sound of thereveille.

  "Git up; git up," said Shorty. "Wash your hands and face, comb yourhair, cut some wood and put it on the fire, and bring a kettle o' waterfrom the spring."

  "Wash my hands and face," said the negro, in a dazed way. "Wha' fo'?Don't got nufin on dem. Comb my ha'r? Nebber did dat in my life."

  "Well, you've got to do it now every mornin', and be spry about it,too. Come, don't move around as if sawed out o' basswood. This ain'tnigger-quarters. Git some springs in your feet."

  And he emphasized his injunctions with a vigorous push.

  The negro's face looked as if he began to have doubts as to whetherfreedom was all that had been represented to him. To have to get upearly every morning, and wash his face and hands and comb his hair,seemed at the moment to be a high price to pay for liberty.

  "Does I hab tuh do dat ebbery mornin', Boss?" he said, turning with alook of plaintive inquiry to the Deacon.{268}

  "Why, certainly," said the Deacon, who had just finished his ownablutions,' and was combing his hair. "Every man must do that to bedecent."

  Abraham Lincoln gave a deep sigh.

  "Washes himself as if he's afraid the water'd scald him," said theDeacon, watching the negro's awkward efforts. "He'll have to take morekindly to water, if he comes into a Baptist total immersion family.There's no salvation except by water, and plenty of it, too. Now," hecontinued, as the black man had finished, "pick up that ax and cut somewood to get breakfast with."

  Abraham Lincoln took the ax, and began belaboring the wood, while theDeacon studied him with a critical eye. There was little that the Deaconprided himself on more than his skill as a wood chopper. People whothink the ax is a simple, skill-less tool, dependent for its efficiencysolely upon the strength and industry with which it is wielded, make agreat mistake. There is as much difference in the way men handle axes,and in the result they produce, as there is in their playing the violin.Anybody can chop, it is true, as anybody can daub with a paint brush,but a real axman of the breed of the Deacon, who had gone into thewilderness with scarcely any other tool than an ax, can produce resultswith it of which the clumsy hacker can scarcely imagine. The Deaconwatched the negro's work with disgust and impatience.

  "Hadn't oughter named sich a clumsy pounder as that 'Abraham Lincoln,'"he mused. "Old Abe could handle an ax with the best of 'em. This fellerhandles it as if it was a handspike. If Si couldn't 've{269} used an axbetter'n that when he was 10 years old, I'd 'a' felt mortally ashamed o'him. Gracious, what a job I have before me o' makin' a first-class manout o' him."

  THE DEACON GIVES ABE A LESSON IN WOOD CHOPPING 269]

  He took the ax from the negro's hand, and patiently showed him how tohold and strike with it. The man apparently tried his best to learn,but it{270} was a perspiring effort for him and the Deacon. The negropresently dropped his ax, sat down on the log, and wiped his foreheadwith his shirtsleeve.

  "'Fore God, Boss, dat's de hardest way ob cuttin' wood dat I ebber seed.Hit'll kill me done daid to chop wood dat a-way."

  "Pshaw!" said the impatient Deacon. "You're simply stupid; that's all.That's the only way to handle an ax. You kin cut with half the work thatway."

  He was discovering what so many of us have found out, that among thehardest things in life is that of getting people to give up clumsy waysfor those that are better.

  In the meantime the boys had gotten breakfast. Then Shorty, who wasdying to train their new acquisition for a winning fight with theColonel's negro, took him behind the house for a little privateinstruction in boxing. The field-hand had never even heard of such athing before, but Shorty was too much in earnest to care for a littlething like that. He went at his task with a will, making the negrodouble his fists just so, strike in a particular way, make a certain"guard," and hit out scientifically. Shorty was so enthusiastic that hedid not stop to think that it was severe labor for the poor negro,and when he had to stop his lesson at the end of half an hour to go onbattalion drill he left his pupil in a state of collapse.

  Ignorant of the new ordeal through which his charge had been going, theDeacon went out in search of him. He had just finished reading the newsin the Cincinnati Commercial, ending with an{271} editorial on "OurDuty Toward the Freedmen," which impelled him to think that he could notbegin Abraham Lincoln's education too soon.

  "Now, Abe," said he briskly, "you've had a good rest, and it's time thatyou should be doin' some thing. You ought to learn to read as soon aspossible, and you might as well begin to learn your letters at once.I'll give you your first lesson. Here are some nice large letters inthis newspaper head, that you kin learn very easily. Now, the first oneis T. You see it is a cross."

  "Afo' de Lawd, Boss," wailed the desperate negro, "I jest can't l'arnno mo', now, nohow. 'Deed I can't. Hit's bin nuffin but l'arn, l'arn,ebbery minnit sense I got up dis mawnin', an' my haid's jest bustin', sohit is. I a'most wisht I wuz back wid my ole mas'r, who didn't want tol'arn me nuffin."

  The astonished Deacon paused and reflected.

  "Mebbe we've bin tryin' to force this plant too fast. There's dangerabout puttin' new wine into old bottles. It's not the right way to trainanything. The way to break a colt is to hang the bridle on the fencewhere he kin see and smell it for a day or two. I'll go a little slowwith him at first. Would you like something more to eat, Abe?"

  "Yes, Boss. 'Deed I would," answered the negro with cheerful promptness,forgetting all about the pangs of the "new birth of freedom."

  THE END OF BOOK NO. 2.