consisted at first of three volumes: The Bible, Aesop's Fables and
Pilgrim's Progress. Some-time in the eighties a prominent magazine
published a series of articles written by men of eminence in the
various walks of life, under the title of "Books that have helped me."
The most noticeable fact was that each of these eminent men--men who
had read hundreds of books--specified not more than three or four
books. Lincoln's first list was of three. They were emphatically books.
Day after day he read, pondered and inwardly digested them until they
were his own. Better books he could not have found in all the
universities of Europe, and we begin to understand where he got his
moral vision, his precision of English style, and his shrewd humor.

Later he borrowed from a neighbor, Josiah Crawford, a copy of Weems'
Life of Washington. In lieu of a bookcase he tucked this, one night,
into the chinking of the cabin. A rain-storm came up and soaked the
book through and through. By morning it presented a sorry appearance.
The damage was done and could not be repaired. Crestfallen the lad
carried it back to the owner and, having no money, offered to pay for
the mischief in work. Crawford agreed and named seventy-five cents (in
labor) as a fair sum.

"Does this pay for the book," the borrower asked, "or only for the
damage to the book?" Crawford reckoned that the book "wa'n't of much
account to him nor to any one else." So Lincoln cheerfully did the
work--it was for three days--and owned the book.

Later he had a life of Henry Clay, whom he nearly idolized. His one
poet was Burns, whom he knew by heart "from a to izzard." Throughout
his life he ranked Burns next to Shakespeare.