ain."

"Come back in and sit down, Tom," said Sarah. "Supper is nearly ready.
Besides, Abe has something that needs saying."

Abe looked at his stepmother in surprise. Then he looked at his father.
"I'm much obliged, Pa," he said.

11

[Illustration]

After a few weeks at Master Swaney's school, Abe had to stop and go to
work again. When he was seventeen, he had a chance to attend another
school kept by Azel Dorsey. Nearly every Friday afternoon there were
special exercises and the scholars spoke pieces. For the final program
on the last day of school, the boys had built a platform outside the log
schoolhouse. Parents, brothers and sisters, and friends found seats on
fallen logs and on the grass. They listened proudly as, one by one, the
children came forward and each recited a poem or a speech.

Master Dorsey walked to the front of the platform. He held up his hand
for silence. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we come to the last
number on our program. Twenty-five years ago Thomas Jefferson became
President of these United States. We shall now hear the speech he made
that day. Abraham Lincoln will recite it for us."

Sarah Lincoln, from under her pink sunbonnet, stole a glance at Tom. "I
hope that Abe does well," she whispered.

Abe did do well. He forgot that he was growing too fast, that his hands
were too big, and that his trousers were too short. For a few minutes he
made his audience forget it. Master Dorsey seemed to swell with pride.
If that boy lives, he thought, he is going to be a noted man some day.
Elizabeth Crawford, sitting in the front row, remembered what he had
said about being President. 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