14

  The Legislature met for several weeks at a time. Between sessions, Abeworked at various jobs in New Salem and read his law books. Most of hisstudying was done early in the morning and late at night. He still foundtime to see a great deal of Ann Rutledge, and something of her gentlesweetness was to live on forever in his heart. After Ann died, he triedto forget his grief by studying harder than ever.

  The year that he was twenty-eight he took his examination, and wasgranted a lawyer's license. He decided to move to Springfield, which hadrecently been made the capital of the state.

  It was a cold March day when he rode into this thriving little town. Hehitched his horse to the hitching rack in the public square and enteredone of the stores. Joshua Speed, the owner, a young man about Abe's age,looked up with a friendly smile.

  "Howdy, Abe," he said. "So you are going to be one of us?"

  "I reckon so," Abe answered. "Say, Speed, I just bought myself abedstead. How much would it cost me for a mattress and some pillows andblankets?"

  Joshua took a pencil from behind his ear. He did some figuring on apiece of paper. "I can fix you up for about seventeen dollars."

  Abe felt the money in his pocket. He had only seven dollars. His horsewas borrowed, and he was still a thousand dollars in debt. Joshua sawthat he was disappointed. He had heard Abe make speeches, and Abe wascalled one of the most promising young men in the legislature. Joshualiked him and wanted to know him better.

  "Why don't you stay with me, until you can do better?" he suggested. "Ihave a room over the store and a bed big enough for two."

  A grin broke over Abe's homely features. "Good!" he said. "Where is it?"

  "You'll find some stairs over there behind that pile of barrels. Go onup and make yourself at home."

  Abe enjoyed living with Joshua Speed, and he enjoyed living inSpringfield. He soon became as popular as he had once been in PigeonCreek and in New Salem. As the months and years went by, more and morepeople came to him whenever they needed a lawyer to advise them. For along time he was poor, but little by little he paid off his debts. Withhis first big fee he bought a quarter section of land for his stepmotherwho had been so good to him.

  The part of his work that Abe liked best was "riding the circuit." Inthe spring and again in the fall, he saddled Old Buck, his horse, andset out with a judge and several other lawyers to visit some of thetowns close by. These towns "on the circuit" were too small to have lawcourts of their own. In each town the lawyers argued the cases and thejudge settled the disputes that had come up during the past six months.

  After supper they liked to gather at the inn to listen to Abe tell funnystories. "I laughed until I shook my ribs loose," said one dignifiedjudge.

  The other lawyers often teased Abe. "You ought to charge your clientsmore money," they said, "or you will always be as poor as Job's turkey."

  One evening they held a mock trial. Abe was accused of charging suchsmall fees that the other lawyers could not charge as much as theyshould. The judge looked as solemn as he did at a real trial.

  "You are guilty of an awful crime against the pockets of your brotherlawyers," he said severely. "I hereby sentence you to pay a fine."

  There was a shout of laughter. "I'll pay the fine," said Abegood-naturedly. "But my own firm is never going to be known as Catchem &Cheatem."

  Meanwhile a young lady named Mary Todd had come to Springfield to live.Her father was a rich and important man in Kentucky. Mary was pretty andwell educated. Abe was a little afraid of her, but one night at a partyhe screwed up his courage to ask her for a dance.

  "Miss Todd," he said, "I would like to dance with you the worst way."

  As he swept her around the dance floor, he bumped into other couples. Hestepped on her toes. "Mr. Lincoln," said Mary, as she limped over to achair, "you did dance with me the worst way--the very worst."

  She did not mind that he was not a good dancer. As she looked up intoAbe's homely face, she decided that he had a great future ahead of him.She remembered something she had once said as a little girl: "When Igrow up, I want to marry a man who will be President of the UnitedStates."

  Abe was not the only one who liked Mary Todd. Among the other young menwho came to see her was another lawyer, Stephen A. Douglas. He was notaller than Mary herself, but he had such a large head and shouldersthat he had been nicknamed "the Little Giant." He was handsome, andrich, and brilliant. His friends thought that he might be President someday.

  "No," said Mary, "Abe Lincoln has the better chance to succeed."

  Anyway, Abe was the man she loved. The next year they were married.

  "I mean to make him President of the United States," she wrote to afriend in Kentucky. "You will see that, as I always told you, I will yetbe the President's wife."

  At first Mary thought that her dream was coming true. In 1846 Abe waselected a member of the United States Congress in Washington. He hadmade a good start as a political leader, and she was disappointed whenhe did not run for a second term. Back he came to Springfield topractice law again. By 1854 there were three lively boys romping throughthe rooms of the comfortable white house that he had bought for hisfamily. Robert was eleven, Willie was four, and Tad was still a baby.The neighbors used to smile to see Lawyer Lincoln walking down thestreet carrying Tad on his shoulders, while Willie clung to hiscoattails. The boys adored their father.

  Mary did, too, but she wished that Abe would be more dignified. He satreading in his shirt sleeves, and he got down on the floor to play withthe boys. His wife did not think that was any way for a successfullawyer to act. It also worried her that he was no longer interested inpolitics.

  And then something happened that neither Mary nor Abe had ever expected.Their old friend, Stephen A. Douglas, who was now a Senator inWashington, suggested a new law. Thousands of settlers were going Westto live, and in time they would form new states. The new law would makeit possible for the people in each new state to own slaves, if most ofthe voters wanted to.

  Abraham Lincoln was so aroused and indignant that he almost forgot hislaw practice. He traveled around Illinois making speeches. There were nolaws against having slaves in the South, but slavery must be kept out ofterritory that was still free, he said. The new states should be places"for poor people to go to better their condition." Not only that, but itwas wrong for one man to own another. Terribly wrong.

  "If the Negro is a man," he told one audience, "then my ancient faithteaches me that all men are created equal."

  Perhaps he was thinking of the first time he had visited a slave market.He was remembering the words in the Declaration of Independence that hadthrilled him as a boy.

  Two years later Abraham Lincoln was asked to be a candidate for theUnited States Senate. He would be running against Douglas. Abe wantedvery much to be a Senator. Even more he wanted to keep slavery out ofthe new states. Taking part in the political campaign would give him achance to say the things that he felt so deeply.

  "I am convinced I am good enough for it," he told a friend, "but inspite of it all I am saying to myself every day, 'It is too big a thingfor you; you will never get it.' Mary insists, however, that I am goingto be Senator and President of the United States, too."

  Perhaps it was his wife's faith in him that gave him the courage totry. Never was there a more exciting campaign. Never had the people ofIllinois been so stirred as during that hot summer of 1858. A series ofdebates was held in seven different towns. The two candidates--Douglas,"the little Giant," and "Old Abe, the Giant Killer," as his friendscalled him--argued about slavery. People came from miles around to hearthem.

  On the day of a debate, an open platform for the speakers was decoratedwith red-white-and-blue bunting. Flags flew from the housetops. WhenSenator Douglas arrived at the railroad station, his friends andadmirers met him with a brass band. He drove to his hotel in a finecarriage.

  Abe had admirers, too. Sometimes a long procession met him at thestation. Then Abe would be embarrassed. He did not like wh
at he called"fizzlegigs and fireworks." But he laughed when his friends in one towndrove him to his hotel in a hay wagon. This was their way of making funof Douglas and his fine manners.

  Senator Douglas was an eloquent orator. While he was talking, some ofAbe's friends would worry. Would Old Abe be able to answer? Would he beable to hold his own? Then Abe would unfold his long legs and stand up."The Giant Killer" towered so high above "the Little Giant" that atitter ran through the crowd.

  When he came to the serious part of his speech, there was silence. Hisvoice reached to the farthest corners of the crowd, as he reminded themwhat slavery really meant. He summed it up in a few words: "You work andtoil and earn bread, and I'll eat it."

  Both men worked hard to be elected. And Douglas won. "I feel like theboy," said Abe, "who stubbed his toe. It hurts too bad to laugh, and Iam too big to cry."

  All of those who loved him--Mary, his wife, in her neat white house;Sarah, his stepmother, in her little cabin, more than a hundred milesaway; and his many friends--were disappointed. But not for long. Thepart he took in the Lincoln-Douglas debates made his name knownthroughout the United States.

  Abe Lincoln's chance was coming.