Among the books that he read were the Bible, the _Pilgrims Progress_, and the poems of Robert Burns. One day he walked a long distance to borrow a book of a farmer. This book was Weems's _Life of Washington_. He read as much as he could while walking home. By that time it was dark, and so he sat down by the chimney and read by firelight until bedtime. Then he took the book to bed with him in the loft, and read by the light of a tallow candle. In an hour the candle burned out. He laid the book in a crevice between two of the logs of the cabin, so that he might begin reading again as soon as it was daylight. But in the night a storm came up. The rain was blown in, and the book was wet through and through. In the morning, when Abraham awoke, he saw what had happened. He dried the leaves as well as he could, and then finished reading the book. As soon as he had eaten his breakfast, he hurried to carry the book to its owner. He explained how the accident had happened. "Mr. Crawford," he said, "I am willing to pay you for the book. I have no money; but, if you will let me, I will work for you until I have made its price." Mr. Crawford thought that the book was worth seventy-five cents, and that Abraham's work would be worth about twenty-five cents a day. And so the lad helped the farmer gather corn for three days, and thus became the owner of the delightful book. He read the story of Washington many times over. He carried the book with him to the field, and read it while he was following the plow. From that time, Washington was the one great hero whom he admired. Why could not he model his own life after that of Washington? Why could not he also be a doer of great things for his country? * * * * * V.--LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. Abraham Lincoln now set to work with a will to educate himself. His father thought that he did not need to learn anything more. He did not see that there was any good in book-learning. If a man could read and write and cipher, what more was needed? But the good step-mother thought differently; and when another short term of school began in the little log school-house, all six of the children from the Lincoln cabin were among the scholars. In a few weeks, however, the school had closed; and the three boys were again hard at work, chopping and grubbing in Mr. Lincoln's clearings. They were good-natured, jolly young fellows, and they lightened their labor with many a joke and playful prank. Many were the droll stories with which Abraham amused his two companions. Many were the puzzling questions that he asked. Sometimes in the evening, with the other five children around him, he would declaim some piece that he had learned; or he would deliver a speech of his own on some subject of common interest.