He walked many miles to borrow from a schoolmaster a grammar with which
to improve his language. A lawyer lent him a copy of Blackstone, and he
began to study law.
People would look wonderingly at the grotesque figure lying in the grass,
"with his feet up a tree," or sitting on a fence, as, absorbed in a book,
he learned to construct correct sentences and made himself a jurist. At
once he gained a little practice, pettifogging before a justice of the
peace for friends, without expecting a fee. Judicial functions, too,
were thrust upon him, but only at horse-races or wrestling matches, where
his acknowledged honesty and fairness gave his verdicts undisputed
authority. His popularity grew apace, and soon he could be a candidate
for the Legislature again. Although he called himself a Whig, an ardent
admirer of Henry Clay, his clever stump speeches won him the election in
the strongly Democratic district. Then for the first time, perhaps, he
thought seriously of his outward appearance. So far he had been content
with a garb of "Kentucky jeans," not seldom ragged, usually patched, and
always shabby.
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