He would be laughing one minute; the next minute he would look
solemn and sad. He would walk along the narrow forest trails, a faraway
look in his eyes. Someone would say "Howdy, Abe." Then he would grin and
start "cracking jokes" again.
Although he worked such long hours, Abe still found time to read. He sat
up late and got up early in the morning, and Sarah made the children
keep quiet when he wanted to study. Sometimes he took a book to work
with him. Instead of talking to the other farm hands at noon, he'd go
off by himself and read a few pages while he ate his dinner. People for
miles around loaned him books. Sometimes he walked fifteen miles to
Rockport, the county seat, to borrow books from John Pitcher, the town
lawyer.
"Everything I want to know is in books," he told Dennis. "My best friend
is a man who can give me a book I ain't read."
Late one afternoon, about two years after Sarah had arrived, Abe came
home with a new book under his arm. Tom and Dennis had joined several of
their neighbors in a big bear hunt and planned to be gone for several
days. Abe planned to read--and read--and read.
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