e old man pulled out his dinner-pail. Sam'l
never opened his mouth. First thing you know, snip went the tongs." Mr.
Lincoln turned gravely around. "What do you reckon Sam'l said, Judge?"

The Judge, at random, summoned up a good one, to the delight of the
audience.

"Judge," said Mr. Lincoln, with solemnity, "I reckon that's what you'd
have said. Sam'l never said a word, and the old man kept on eating his
dinner. One o'clock came, and the folks began to drop in again, but
Sam'l, he sat there. 'Long towards night the boys collected 'round the
door. They were getting kind of interested. Sam'l, he never looked up."
Here Mr. Lincoln bent forward a little, and his voice fell to a loud,
drawling whisper. "First thing you know, here come the whiskers peeping
up, then the pink eyes a--blinking at the forge, then--!"

"Suddenly he brought the umbrellas together with whack.

"'By God,' yells Sam'l, 'I have thee at last!'"

Amid the shouts, Mr. Lincoln stood up, his long body swaying to and fro
as he lifted high the improvised tongs. They heard a terrified squeal,
and there was the rat squirming and wriggling,--it seemed before their
very eyes. And Stephen forgot the country tavern, the country politician,
and was transported straightway into the Quaker's smithy.

CHAPTER III

IN WHICH STEPHEN LEARNS SOMETHING

It was Mr. Lincoln who brought him back. The astonishing candidate for
the Senate had sunk into his chair, his face relaxed into sadness save
for the sparkle lurking in the eyes. So he sat, immobile, until the
laughter had died down to silence. Then he turned to Stephen.

"Sonny," he said, "did you want to see me?"

Stephen was determined to be affable and kind, and (shall we say it?) he
would not make Mr. Lincoln uncomfortable either by a superiority of
English or the certain frigidity of manner which people in the West said
he had. But he tried to imagine a Massachusetts senator, Mr. Sumner, for
instance, going through the rat story, and couldn't. Somehow,
Massachusetts senators hadn't this gift. And yet he was not quite sure
that it wasn't a fetching gift. Stephen did not quite like to be called
"Sonny." But he looked into two gray eyes, and at the face, and something
curious happened to him. How was he to know that thousands of his
countrymen were to experience the same sensation?

"Sonny," said Mr. Lincoln again, "did you want to see me?"

"Yes, sir." Stephen wondered at the "sir." It had been involu