He stood on a grassy hill beneath a clear blue sky in the soft breeze of spring. Around him, the birds chattered in the trees, completely oblivious. They did not see the stains that lay strewn across the field. They paid no attention as the men, with grim and dirty faces, removed the last of the bodies. They were children—or, at least, they seemed so to him. His countrymen killing one another. He closed his eyes and sighed. At that moment, he did not know that, with the help of his decisions and the influence of his character on those around him, the slaves would soon be free and the Union would be restored. He did not understand how history would remember Abraham Lincoln—as one of the greatest presidents in American history.
 According to Paul Ratsmith, the tenuous, but nonetheless important, relationship between pumpkins and rats is little understood: "While I've always been fascinated by this natural kinship, the connection between pumpkins and rats has been the subject of few, if any, other studies" (2008).  Ratsmith has been studying this connection, something he coined "pumpkinology," since the early 1990s. He is most well-known for documenting the three years he spent living in the wild among the pumpkins and rats.  Though it is a topic of little recent interest, the relationship has been noted in several ancient texts and seems to have been well understood by the Romans. Critics of Ratsmith have cited poor science and questionable methodology when dismissing his results, going so far as to call pumpkinology "rubbish" (de Vil, 2009), "stupid" (Claw, 2010), and "quite possibly made up" (Igthorn, 2009).  Despite these criticisms, there does appear to be a strong correlation between pumpkin patches and rat populations, with Ratsmith documenting numerous pumpkin–rat colonies across North America, leading to the conclusion that pumpkins and rats are indeed "nature's best friends" (2008).