eady. He'll never command the American
army, nor run the nation, nor keep store. Yer Aunt Indiana can read
character, and her prophecies have proved true so far."

"Wait--time tells the whole truth; and worth is worth, and passes for
the true gold of life in time."

"Ye don't think that there's any chance for him yet, do ye, elder, after
lettin' the Indian go, and failin', and havin' that melancholy spell?"

"Yes, I do. My spiritual sense tells me so."

"Yer spiritual sense! Elder, ye ought to go to school. Ye are nothin'
but a child yerself. And let me advise ye never to have anythin' more to
do with that there Indian boy. Fishes don't swim on rocks, nor hawks go
to live in a cage. An Indian is an Indian, and, mark my words, that boy
will have yer scalp some day. He will, now--he will. I saw it in his
eye."

The Tunker journeyed toward the new town of Springfield, Illinois, along
the fragrant timber and over the blooming prairies. Everywhere were to
be seen the white prairie schooner and the little village of people that
followed it.

Springfield was but a promising village at this time, in a very fertile
land. Probably no one ever thought that it would become a capital city
of an empire of population, the hub of that great wheel of destiny
rimmed by the Wabash, the Mississippi, Rock River, and the Lake; and
still less did any one ever dream that it would be the legislative
influence of that tall, laughing, sad-faced boy, Lincoln, who would
produce this result.

Jasper preached at Springfield, and visited the log school-house, and
told stories to the little school. He then started to walk to New Salem,
a distance of some eighteen or twenty miles.

It was a pleasant country, and all things seemed teeming with life, for
it was now the high tide of the year. The prairies were billows of
flowers, and the timber was shady and cool, carpeted with mosses,
tangled with vines, with its tops bright with sunshine and happy with
the songs of birds.

About half-way between the two towns Jasper saw some lofty trees, giants
of the forest, that spread out their branches like roofs of some ancient
temple. There were birds' nests made of sticks in their tops, and a cool
stream ran under them. He sought the place for rest.

As he entered the great shadow, he saw a tall young man seated on a log,
absorbed in reading a book. He approached him, and recognized him as
young Lincoln.

"I am glad to meet you here, in this beautifu