"Yes, down to the creek where the ferns grow. I have no such place at the farm, and I miss it, for the fern dell is a schoolroom where I learn wonderful lessons from the growing things, and from the little brook which goes on its unknown way to find its mother, the ocean."
So they started away across the field toward the creek. They did not notice the cloud above their heads until they felt raindrops on their shoulders.
"Let's run," Ann said, "over under the haystacks. It's only a shower."
But before they got to the haystack they were both wet. When Abe Lincoln expressed some concern about Ann she only laughed and said, "Am I sugar or salt that I cannot stand a little water?"
"But you are so hot now. You ran as fast as I did, Ann."
Together they drew close back under the straw and did not mind the minutes lost, for there was always much to talk about.
When the shower had passed, they went on around the hill down to the creek. Here they found the little stream considerably swollen. Coming to the place where, on the opposite bank, the ferns were growing, Ann stepped to the water's edge and standing on a stone sang:
On Jordan's stormy banks I stand
And cast a wistful eye.
The next moment Abe Lincoln had taken her in his strong arms and put her across to the other bank.
"Look, Abraham," she said pointing to the lacy, green leaves. "Do you notice that some are longer than others and greener and stronger? Well, in this difference lies a secret."