Besides his newly acquired Blackstone and Shakespeare, Lincoln was making trips to Springfield to borrow from Major Stuart what seemed to the country youth an inexhaustible wealth of books.
So it happened that, nights when there was no meeting of any kind, Abe Lincoln studied alone in the store or sometimes at the cooper shop, where warmth and light were given him.
The winter of the busy year came early to New Salem, and the hamlet was wrapped in a sheet of white which covered the roadways and fields, and draped the bluffs, and bent the boughs of the forest trees. The streams were muffled and, save where dark spots showed water moving sluggishly, were hidden under the white blanket. Cattle huddled by the haystacks and in barns, and in the log houses great fires blazed on the hearths and the store of candles was drawn on heavily to make light for the long evenings when the housewives used the time to spin and knit.
It was a bitter, cold night that Abe Lincoln after supper sat a few minutes by the fire. John Rutledge had gone to Springfield and would not return until next day. There was no meeting, and Mrs. Rutledge and Ann thought perhaps their boarder would spend the evening with them.
The wind blew low and seemed to hug close to the earth and move silently and stealthily as if trying to envelop some victim unaware. The snow crunched at the slightest tread. The hearth-fire had never seemed so good.
Abe Lincoln and Ann were alone in the room. He sat before the fire looking at the coals; she was getting her spinning ready.
Rising suddenly he took his hat and gray muffler from the peg on the wall.
"You're not going out, Abraham?" Ann inquired.
"Yes—I'm going over to Muddy Point."
"To Muddy Point?" Ann exclaimed setting her wheel down.