Soon they heard a little call, suggesting elfland trumpets, in a distant part of the wood.

It was repeated three or four times; each time fainter and farther.
They saw and heard no more of her that day.
"She's an odd child and as pretty as a spotted fawn, and about as wild," said Abe.

"She's a kind of a first cousin to the bobolink." When they were getting ready to go home that afternoon Joe got into a great hurry to see his mother.

It seemed to him that ages had elapsed since he had seen her--a conviction which led to noisy tears.
Abe knelt before him and comforted the boy.

Then he wrapped him in his jacket and swung him in the air and started for home with Joe astride his neck.
Samson says in his diary: "His tender play with the little lad gave me another look at the man Lincoln." "Some one proposed once that we should call that stream the Minnehaha," said Abe as he walked along.