There were words in some of the stories that Abe did not understand. He
tried to figure out what the words meant. He thought about the people in
the stories. He thought about the places mentioned and wondered what
they were like.
There were thoughts inside Abraham Lincoln's head that even Sally did
not know anything about.
4
[Illustration]
Abe took another bite of cornbread and swallowed hard. "Don't you like
it?" asked Sally anxiously. "I know it doesn't taste like the cornbread
Mammy used to make."
She looked around the room. The furniture was the same as their mother
had used--a homemade table and a few three-legged stools. The same
bearskin hung before the hole in the wall that was their only door. But
Nancy had kept the cabin clean. She had known how to build a fire that
didn't smoke. Sally glanced down at her faded linsey-woolsey dress,
soiled with soot. The dirt floor felt cold to her bare feet. Her last
pair of moccasins had worn out weeks ago.
"I don't mind the cornbread--at least, not much." Abe finished his
piece, down to the last crumb. "If I seem down in the mouth, Sally, it
is just because--"
[Illustration]
He walked over to the fireplace, where he stood with his back to the
room.
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