History books have little to say about Ezekial Lincoln, Abe's older brother. And for good reason. He was one of the most lowdown, no good, lyingest, cheatingist, two-faced, three-toed varmints you ever did see this side of Topeka. He was always dishing out crap to his little brother, he couldn't help it. He used to stuff Abe's library books into the damp cabin chinks. Turned the axe heads blunt side out. Abe would read by candlelight, so Zeke would carve out the wicks and replace them with firecrackers. Just mean things.
There followed many fruitless years as Springfiald's town drunk.
It was Union revisionists who decided to write Zeke out of the history books after he won seven slaves - two bucks, two mammies and three pickaninnies - in a questionable round of Montana Red Dog down at the Marquette and Jolliet Grog Shop in the summer of 1858. Three years later, Abe was in the White House, rallying Republicans and Democrats alike to the Union cause when Zeke, his wife, kids, hound dogs and slaves all dropped by for a visit. This didn't go over too well. The entire entourage was rounded up and escorted by wagon to the Chesapeake Bay, spirited on board a fishing vessel and bid bon voyage for parts unknown. The war went on in peace.
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