and as for his books--there's no one who can beat him.

POLLY.
He's always at them--even after a hard day's work.

TOM.
There's nothing he won't read if he can get his hands on it, and at
spelling he's head of his class every time.

AMY
(amused).
You'd think he was a hero, Tom, the way you talk.

TOM
(eyes a-light).
Well, sometimes he does seem like a hero to me, he's so strong and
clever and kind. At school people are always coming to him with their
disputes, and out of school, too. Even the Indians respect his
knowledge. And with it all he can see a joke as soon as anybody, and
isn't a bit puffed up. And then I like him, because even though he's
quiet and it takes a long time for him to get angry, when he _does_ get
angry it's on the right side. I think some day he'll be a great lawyer.
Come, Amy, what do you think he'll be?

AMY
(mischievously).
Well, as you think he knows so much--almost as much as Mr. Andrew
Crawford--I think perhaps he'll be a teacher.

TOM.
What do you think he'll be, Polly?

POLLY
(absorbed in examining corn-popper, tongs, etc.).
I don't know. Oh, see! He's mended the tongs. I saw him working at it
the other day. (Facing about, laughing.) I'll tell you what I think
he'll be--he'll be a _mender_! (To Amy.) Look out, Amy, that's Abe's
precious snow-shovel. Dear knows why he has it out this early.

AMY.
Because paper is expensive, goosey. By the light of some pine cones he
can figure on this, and then scrape it off again.

TOM
(admiringly).
Nobody but Abe would think of such a thing. I tell you the day will
come when we'll be proud we knew him.

AMY
(gaily).
Bravo, Tom! You'll be making speeches soon, or lead in our next debate.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
(speaking from outer doorway, ax on shoulder, a gaunt, rawboned,
kindly-eyed lad).
Who said _debate--?_

AMY
(jumping up with a burst of delighted laughter).
There he is now! (To Lincoln.) If any word would bring you, that one
would, I know!

POLLY.
Nancy isn't here. She said we were to wait. Go on with your supper,
Abe, and don't mind us. I know you're hungry.

LINCOLN.
Thank you, I will. (Puts by ax and goes towards table.) Hungry! I feel
half-starved! And my muscles are as stiff as boards. (Turns.) Here,
Tom, I'm a fine host--neglecting my guests! There's the corn-popper,
and (diving hand into cupboard and bringing out a bag) there's the
corn!

NANCY
(appearing in the outer door with Francois Durand, and little John