Sally sat on the second bench. "Mrs. Lincoln," said Abe in a high
falsetto voice, "this here be Mr. Grigsby."
While she was making her curtsy, Sally's cheeks suddenly grew red.
"Don't let on I told you, Mr. Grigsby," Abe whispered, "but Mrs. Lincoln
bakes the worst cornbread of anyone in Pigeon Creek."
Sally forgot that they were having a lesson in manners. "Don't you dare
talk about my cornbread," she said angrily.
The little log room rocked with laughter. This time Master Crawford had
also heard Abe's remark. He walked over to the corner where he kept a
bundle of switches. He picked one up and laid it across his desk.
"We'll have no more monkeyshines," he said severely. "Go on with the
introducing."
One day Abe almost got into real trouble. He had started for school
early, as he often did, so that he could read one of Master Crawford's
books. He was feeling sad as he walked through the woods; he seemed to
miss his mother more each day. When he went into the schoolhouse, he
looked up and saw a pair of deer antlers. Master Crawford had gone
hunting. He had shot a deer and nailed the antlers above the door.
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