neglected on a chair near by and Billy wanted her to
forget it.

"Tell me 'bout Piljerk Peter."

"Piljerk Peter?" there was an interrogation in her voice.

"Yas 'm. Ain't you never hear tell 'bout Piljerk Peter? He had fifteen
chillens an' one time the las' one of 'em an' his ole 'oman was down
with the fever an' he ain't got but one pill an' they so sick they mos'
'bout to die an' ain't nobody in the fiel' fer to pick the cotton an' he
can't git no doctor an' he ain't got but jest that one pill; so he tie
that pill to a string an' let the bigges' chile swaller it an' draw it
back up an' let the nex' chile swaller it an' jerk it back up an' let
the nex, Chile swaller it an' jerk it back up an' let the nex' Chile
swaller it an' jerk it back up an' let the nex'--."

"I don't believe in telling tales to children," interrupted his aunt, "I
will tell you biographical and historical stories and stories from the
Bible. Now listen, while I read to you."

"An' the nex' Chile swaller it an' he jerk it back up," continued Billy
serenely, "an' the nex' Chile swaller it an' he jerk it back up tell
finely ev'y single one of 'em, plumb down to the baby, swaller that pill
an' the las' one of 'em got well an' that one pill it done the work.
Then he tuck the pill and give it to his ole 'oman an' she swaller it
an' he jerk it back up but didn't nothin' 'tall come up but jest the
string an' his ole 'oman she died 'cause all the strenk done gone outer
that pill."

Miss Minerva opened a book called "Gems for the Household," which she
had purchased from a silvertongued book-agent. She selected an article
the subject of which was "The Pure in Heart."

Billy listened with a seemingly attentive ear to the choice flow of
words, but in reality his little brain was busy with its own thoughts.
The article closed with the suggestion that if one were innocent and
pure he would have a dreamless sleep--

"If you have a conscience clear,
And God's commands you keep;
If your heart is good and pure,
You will have a perfect sleep."

Billy's aunt concluded. Wishing to know if he had understood what she
had just read she asked:

"What people sleep the soundest?"

"Niggers," was his prompt reply, as he thought of the long summer days
and the colored folk on the plantation.

She was disappointed, but not discouraged.

"Now, William," she admonished, "I'm going to read you another piece,
and I want you to tell me about it, when