The fact that he could not
carry a tune did not seem to bother him.
"Cat's in the cream jar, shoo, shoo, shoo!
Cat's in the cream jar, shoo, shoo, shoo!
Skip to my Lou, my darling."
Sally was down on her hands and knees, wiping up the cream. "Stop
singing that silly song, and help me."
Instead, Abe danced a jig. He leaned down and pulled her other pigtail.
[Illustration]
"Sally's in the cream jar, shoo, shoo, shoo."
"That's enough, Abe," said Elizabeth Crawford.
"Skip to my Lou, my darling." He whirled around on his bare feet and
made a sweeping bow. Sally was close to tears.
"Abe, I told you to stop," said Elizabeth Crawford. "You ought to be
ashamed, teasing your sister. If you keep on acting that way, what do
you think is going to become of you?"
"Me?" Abe drew himself up. "What's going to become of me? I'm going to
be President."
Elizabeth looked at him, a lanky barefoot boy with trousers too short.
His shirt was in rags. His black hair was tousled. She sank into a
chair, shaking with laughter. "A pretty President you'd make, now
wouldn't you?"
She had no sooner spoken than she wanted to take back the words.
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