The trio were driven home in silence, and parted for the night, without any reference to the events of the day.
At the table the next morning the discussion of the day before was first alluded to. Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins, Abner and Oleah, sat for some moments in silence—a silence both painful and awkward, and, in this family circle, unusual; but Irene entered the breakfast room, bright and unconscious, eager to know all that had passed at Snagtown the day before.
"We heard an excellent speech," said Abner.
"Yes; Douglas did well," put in Oleah.
"I mean Mr. Lincoln," said Abner. "Douglas' speech was good, but his position was entirely demolished by Mr. Lincoln's eloquent reasoning."
"You don't call the harangue of that contemptible old demagogue reasoning, do you?" asked Oleah, astonished and indignant.
"I certainly do," replied Abner. "His reasoning appeared to me clear, and his conclusions logical."
"And I," cried Oleah, laying down his knife and fork in his excitement, "I declare I never before heard so much sophistry, and not very plausible sophistry, either."
"You are prejudiced," said Abner, coolly.