If she closed her eyes, she could almost
imagine that Thomas Jefferson was speaking. When Abe finished and made
an awkward bow, she joined in the hearty burst of applause.
"Do you know where he got that piece?" she asked her husband in a low
voice. "From _The Kentucky Preceptor_, one of the books you loaned him.
It makes a body feel good to think we helped him. Look at Mrs. Lincoln!
She couldn't be more pleased if Abe was her own son."
Sarah waited to walk home with him. "I was mighty proud of you today,"
she said. "Why, what's the matter? You look mighty down-in-the-mouth for
a boy who spoke his piece so well on the last day."
"I was thinking that this is the last day," he answered. "The last day
I'll ever go to school, most likely."
"Well, you're seventeen now."
"Yes, I'm seventeen, and I ain't had a year's schooling all told. I
can't even talk proper. I forget and say 'ain't' though I know it
ain't--I mean isn't right."
"It seems to me you're educating yourself with all those books you
read," said Sarah cheerfully.
"I've already read all the books for miles around. Besides, I want to
see places.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81