Henry).
And here's Nancy with a bag of salt, just in time. I'm glad you all
waited for me. Come to the fire, Francois.

FRANCOIS
(shyly to all, as they kindly make way for him).
Bon soir! Bon soir!

NANCY
(rattling on).
B-rrrrr! It's chilly. It's nice to be in by the fire. How's your
supper, Abe? I fixed it for you.

LINCOLN
(genially).
It's fine, Nancy, thank you. (Goes back to table and half-smiles,
dryly-humorous.) And the best thing about it is that there's enough of
it! (To John.) Well, John, how are you?

JOHN
(drawling, wide-eyed, childlike).
Did you see any _bears_ in the woods?

LINCOLN
(with a twinkle, solemnly imitating him).
No, I didn't see any bea-r-s in the woods; but I brought home some nuts
for you! (Gives them.)

[Francois, under pantomimic urging from the group around the fire, has
taken up his fiddle, tunes it, and from a mere ghost of an air breaks
into a gay tune. Little John Henry takes the corn-popper, swaying it in
time to the music, while the rest, with the exception of Lincoln, do a
step or so of an old-fashioned reel. Lincoln watches them as he eats.
John watches them also, to the detriment of the corn-popping.

NANCY
(pausing in dance, with little shriek of dismay).
Oh, mercy! The corn! I smell it burning!

ALL
(gathering about her, and thus hiding corn-popper from view of
audience).
Is it burnt? No! Yes! No! Oh, it's saved. (Lincoln, who has risen, goes
back to his supper.)

JOHN.
I didn't mean to!

NANCY
(relenting).
But when Francois plays the fiddle you can't think of anything else,
eh?

AMY
(as they group themselves in fire-glow).
Sit over here, Nancy. Isn't the corn splendid?

LINCOLN
(from where he is sitting).
Any news, Tom? How's the wolf-hunting getting on? Anybody got one?

TOM.
I heard in the store to-night that Hugh Foster had killed one. It may
be only a rumor. You're not fond of hunting, are you, Abe?

LINCOLN.
Oh, I try at it once in a while, Tom, but I'm not very keen. You boys
get more out of it than I do.

TOM.
Remember the raccoon hunt we had last summer?

LINCOLN.
Yes, I remember. (Facing about.) To tell you the truth, Tom, I don't
mind if things have to be killed outright; but I hate to see them in
cages. I like to see 'em _free_.

TOM.
I know you do, Abe.

POLLY
(merrily).
Oh, Abe, before you came we were all guessing----

LINCOLN.
Guessing?

POLLY
(nodding).
What you were going to be. Tom said you'd be a lawyer. Amy