"Say it now, Ann, just as I have, and look at your teacher. First, 'I love.'"
"I love," she repeated.
"Might be better," he said. "Now the next, and look at your teacher and repeat after me, 'You love'?"
As Ann repeated the question her face took on a touch of pink.
"Very good—very good, indeed. Now the next is, 'We love.' We will say that together with the accent on the 'we.' Now—one—two—three—'we,'" and he beat three times slowly with his big hand "Ready, 'We love.'"
There was much more emphasis in the teacher's statement than in that of the pupil. The effect on Ann was to cause a merry laugh. "Ann," said Abe Lincoln, "I'm goin' to give you this grammar. I know it by heart—by heart, Ann—especially the verb 'I love.' I want you to learn it"; and he wrote across the top, "Ann Rutledge is learning grammar," and pushed it across the table to her.
"What a splendid present!" she said with a smiling face. "How I wish I had something to give you, Abraham—would you take my little Bible—and read it?"
"Oh, Ann!—would you give it to me?" he asked with the joy of a child.
"You won't give it away like you did the muffler, will you?"
"Wouldn't you be willin' if I should run across a bigger sinner than Abe Lincoln?" he answered laughing.