which seemed wrong.
Her husband was made to put a floor in the cabin, as well as to supply doors and windows.
The cracks between the logs were plastered up. A clothes-press filled the space between the chimney jamb and the wall, and the mat of corn husks and leaves on which the children had slept in the corner gave way to the comfortable luxuriance of a feather bed
She washed the two orphans, and fitted them out in clothes taken from the stores of her own. The work of renovation in and around the cabin continued until even Thomas Lincoln
himself, under the general stimulus of the new wife's presence, caught the inspiration, and developed signs of intense activity.
The advent of Sarah Bush
was certainly a red-letter day for the Lincolns.
She was not only industrious and thrifty, but gentle and affectionate; and her newly adopted children for the first time, perhaps, realized the benign influence of a mother's love.
Of young Abe she was especially fond, and we have her testimony that her kindness and care for him were warmly and bountifully returned.
Her granddaughter furnished me1
in after years with this description of her:
My grandmother is a very tall woman, straight as an Indian, of fair complexion, and was, when I first remember her, very handsome, sprightly, talkative, and proud.
She wore her hair curled till gray; is kind-hearted and very charitable, and also very industrious.
In September, 1865, I visited the old