er,
who was greatly surprised when I told him who the old man was.

Keimer's printing-house, I found, consisted of an old shattered press
and one small, worn-out font of English, which he was then using
himself, composing an Elegy on Aquila Rose, before mentioned, an
ingenious young man, of excellent character, much respected in the town,
clerk of the Assembly, and a pretty poet. Keimer made verses too, but
very indifferently. He could not be said to write them, for his manner
was to compose them in the types directly out of his head. So there
being no copy, but one pair of cases, and the Elegy likely to require
all the letters, no one could help him. I endeavored to put his press
(which he had not yet used and of which he understood nothing) into
order fit to be worked with; and, promising to come and print off his
Elegy as soon as he should have got it ready, I returned to Bradford's,
who gave me a little job to do for the present, and there I lodged and
dieted. A few days after, Keimer sent for me to print off the Elegy. And
now he had got another pair of cases, and a pamphlet to reprint, on
which he set me to work.

These two printers I found poorly qualified for their business. Bradford
had not been bred to it, and was very illiterate; and Keimer, though
something of a scholar, was a mere compositor, knowing nothing of
presswork. He had been one of the French prophets, and could act their
enthusiastic agitations. At this time he did not profess any particular
religion, but something of all on occasion; was very ignorant of the
world, and had, as I afterward found, a good deal of the knave in his
composition. He did not like my lodging at Bradford's while I worked
with him. He had a house, indeed, but without furniture, so he could not
lodge me; but he got me a lodging at Mr. Read's, before mentioned, who
was the owner of his house; and, my chest and clothes being come by this
time, I made rather a more respectable appearance in the eyes of Miss
Read than I had done when she first happened to see me eating my roll in
the street.

418

Of the numerous biographies of Abraham Lincoln,
none seems better suited for use in the grades
than _The Boy's Life of Abraham Lincoln_, by
Helen Nicolay (1866--), from which the next
selection was taken. John George Nicolay,
father of Helen Nicolay, was private secretary
to Abraham Lincoln from 1860 to 1865, and later