AMY
(mischievously). 
Well, as you think he knows so much—­almost as much as Mr. Andrew
Crawford—­I think perhaps he’ll be a teacher.

TOM. 
What do you think he’ll be, Polly?

POLLY (absorbed in examining corn-popper, tongs, etc.).  I don’t know.  Oh, see!  He’s mended the tongs.  I saw him working at it the other day. (Facing about, laughing.) I’ll tell you what I think he’ll be—­he’ll be a mender! (To Amy.) Look out, Amy, that’s Abe’s precious snow-shovel.  Dear knows why he has it out this early.

AMY. 
Because paper is expensive, goosey.  By the light of some pine cones he
can figure on this, and then scrape it off again.

TOM (admiringly).  Nobody but Abe would think of such a thing.  I tell you the day will come when we’ll be proud we knew him.

AMY
(gaily). 
Bravo, Tom!  You’ll be making speeches soon, or lead in our next debate.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN (speaking from outer doorway, ax on shoulder, a gaunt, rawboned, kindly-eyed lad).  Who said debate—?

AMY (jumping up with a burst of delighted laughter).  There he is now! (To Lincoln.) If any word would bring you, that one would, I know!

POLLY. 
Nancy isn’t here.  She said we were to wait.  Go on with your supper,
Abe, and don’t mind us.  I know you’re hungry.

LINCOLN.  Thank you, I will. (Puts by ax and goes towards table.) Hungry!  I feel half-starved!  And my muscles are as stiff as boards. (Turns.) Here, Tom, I’m a fine host—­neglecting my guests!  There’s the corn-popper, and (diving hand into cupboard and bringing out a bag) there’s the corn!

NANCY
(appearing in the outer door with Francois Durand, and little John
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.