an advocate in criminal cases. Lincoln was sure to be present when he
spoke. Doing the chores in the morning, he would walk to Booneville, the
county seat of Warwick County, seventeen miles away, then home in time
to do the chores at night, repeating this day after day. The lawyer soon
came to know him. Years afterwards, when Lincoln was President, a
venerable gentleman one day entered his office in the White House, and
standing before him said: 'Mr. President, you don't know me.' Mr.
Lincoln eyed him sharply for a moment, and then quickly replied with a
smile, 'Yes I do. You are John A. Breckenridge. I used to walk
thirty-four miles a day to hear you plead law in Booneville, and
listening to your speeches at the bar first inspired me with the
determination to be a lawyer.'"

Lincoln's love for his gentle mother, and his grief over her untimely
death, is a touching story. Attacked by a fatal disease, the life of
Nancy Hanks wasted slowly away. Day after day her son sat by her bed
reading to her such portions of the Bible as she desired to hear. At
intervals she talked to him, urging him to walk in the paths of honor,
goodness, and truth. At last she found rest, and her son gave way to
grief that could not be controlled. In an opening in the timber, a short
distance from the cabin, sympathizing friends and neighbors laid her
body away and offered sincere prayers above her grave. The simple
service did not seem to the son adequate tribute to the memory of the
beloved mother whose loss he so sorely felt, but no minister could be
procured at the time to preach a funeral sermon. In the spring, however,
Abraham Lincoln, then a lad of ten, wrote to Elder Elkin, who had lived
near them in Kentucky, begging that he would come and preach a sermon
above his mother's grave, and adding that by granting this request he
would confer a lasting favor upon his father, his sister, and himself.
Although it involved a journey of more than a hundred miles on