ndid and wonderful piece of
mechanism, a fine, practical, machine-like individual, moral, upright,
religious. She was glad that he was young; she would begin his training
on the morrow. She would teach him to sew, to sweep, to churn, to cook,
and when he was older he should be educated for the ministry.

"Yes," said Miss Minerva; "I shall be very strict with him just at
first, and punish him for the slightest disobedience or misdemeanor, and
he will soon learn that my authority is not to be questioned."

And the little boy who had never had a restraining hand laid upon him
in his short life? He slept sweetly and innocently in the next room
dreaming of the care-free existence on the plantation and of his idle,
happy, negro companions.

CHAPTER III

THE WILLING WORKER

"Get up, William," said Miss Minerva, "and come with me to the
bath-room; I have fixed your bath."

The child's sleepy eyes popped wide open at this astounding command.

"Ain't this-here Wednesday?" he asked sharply.

"Yes; to-day is Wednesday. Hurry up or your water will get cold."

"Well, me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln jest washed las' Sat'day. We ain't
got to wash no mo' till nex' Sat'day," he argued.

"Oh, yes," said his relative; "you must bathe every day."

"Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln ain't never wash on a Wednesday sence we's
born," he protested indignantly.

Billy's idea of a bath was taken from the severe weekly scrubbing which
Aunt Cindy gave him with a hard washrag, and he felt that he'd rather
die at once than have to bathe every day.

He followed his aunt dolefully to the bath-room at the end of the long
back-porch of the old-fashioned, one-story house; but once in the big
white tub he was delighted.

In fact he stayed in it so long Miss Minerva had to knock on the door
and tell him to hurry up and get ready for breakfast.

"Say," he yelled out to her, "I likes this here; it's mos' as fine as
Johnny's Wash Hole where me and' Wilkes Booth Lincoln goes in swimmin'
ever sence we's born."

When he came into the dining-room he was a sight to gladden even a prim
old maid's heart. The water had curled his hair into riotous yellow
ringlets, his bright eyes gleamed, his beautiful, expressive little face
shone happily, and every movement of his agile, lithe figure was grace
itself.

"I sho' is hongry," he remarked, as he took his seat at the breakfast
table.

Miss Minerva realized that now was the time to