e of split logs. Abe led Nat
down the length of the front bench. Each girl rose and made a curtsy.
Nat bowed. Each boy rose and bowed. Nat returned the bow. Abe kept
saying funny things under his breath that the schoolmaster could not
hear. But the children heard, and they could hardly keep from laughing
out loud.

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.

What a wonderful place to swing! thought Abe. He leaped up and caught
hold of the prongs. He began swinging back and forth.

CRASH! One prong came off in his hand, and he fell to the floor. He
hurried to his seat, hoping that the master would not notice.

But Master Crawford was proud of those antlers. When he saw what had
happened, he picked up the switch on his desk. It made a swishing sound
as he swung it back and forth.

"Who broke my deer antlers?" he shouted.

No one answered. Abe hunched down as far as he could on the bench. He
seemed to be trying to hide inside his buckskin shirt.

Master Crawford repeated his question. "Who broke my deer antlers? I
aim to find out, if I have to thrash every scholar in this school."

All of the children looked scared, Abe most of all. But he stood up. He
marched up to Master Crawford's desk and held out the broken prong that
he had been hiding in his hand.

"I did it, sir," he said. "I didn't mean to do it, but I hung on the
antlers and they b