Part 16 (1/2)

_Extent and violence of the waves._

The waves behind impel the waves before, Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the sh.o.r.e.

_Pensive numbers._

In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav'nly pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns.

_Battle._

Arms on armor clas.h.i.+ng brayed Horrible discord; and the madding wheels Of brazen fury raged.

_Sound imitating reluctance._

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned; Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind?

A spelling exercise followed, in which the pupils spelled for places, or for the head. Abraham Lincoln stood at the head of the cla.s.s. He was regarded as the best speller in Spencer County. He is noted to have soon exhausted all that the three teachers whom he found there could teach him. Once, in after years, when he was asked how he came to know so much, he answered, ”By a willingness to learn of every one who could teach me anything.”

”Abraham,” said Master Crawford, ”you have maintained your place at the head of the cla.s.s during the winter. You may take your place now at the foot of the cla.s.s, and try again.”

The spelling for turns, or for the head, followed the method of the old Webster's ”Speller,” that was once so popular in country schools:

ail, to be in trouble.

ale, malt liquor.

air, the atmosphere.

_h_eir, one who inherits.

all, the whole.

awl, an instrument.

al-tar, a place for offerings.

al-ter, to change.

ant, a little insect.

a_u_nt, a sister to a parent.

ark, a vessel.

arc, part of a circle.

All went correctly and smoothly, to the delight and satisfaction of Josiah Crawford and Aunt Olive, until the word _drachm_ was reached, when all the cla.s.s failed except Abraham Lincoln, who easily pa.s.sed up to the head again.

The writing-books, or copy-books, were next shown to the visitors. The writing had been done on puncheon-desks with home made ink. Abraham Lincoln's copy-book showed the same characteristic hand that signed the Emanc.i.p.ation Proclamation. In one corner of a certain page he had written an odd bit of verse in which one may read a common experience in the struggles of life after what is better and higher. Emerson said, ”A high aim is curative.” Poor backwoods Abe seemed to have the same impression, but he did not write it down in an Emersonian way, but in this odd rhyme:

”Abraham Lincoln, His hand and pen, He will be good, But G.o.d knows when.”

The exercises ended with a grand dialogue translated from Fenelon between Dionysius, Pythias, and Damon, in which fidelity in friends.h.i.+p was commended. After this, each of the visitors, Aunt Olive included, was asked to make a ”few remarks.” Aunt Olive's remarks were ”few,” but to the point:

”Children, you have read well, and spelled well, and are good arithme_tickers_, but you ain't sot still. There!”