were not
like any men they had seen before, that they were afraid; therefore the
Spaniards very easily conquered them, and robbed them of their gold, and
at last took the Inca prisoner, and kept him confined in a small room,
where he would have been very unhappy; but that he was very much amused,
by observing how many things the Spaniards knew that he had never before
heard of.

"He was astonished to see that they could tell the hour of the day by
their watches, and thought the Europeans must be very wonderful people
indeed, to make such clever things; but what pleased him more than all,
was the art of writing. He could not imagine how one person could know
what another meant by looking at a few black marks, and he thought that
men who could do this, must be far superior to the Peruvians, and
therefore felt a respect even for the common soldiers who guarded him;
for he saw that they had more knowledge than he had, although a king.

"Now Pizarro was the general of the soldiers, and of course the greatest
man among them; and he had also become very rich by conquering the
Peruvians, and plundering their towns, that is, taking away all the gold
and silver he found: and Atabalipa supposed that, as he was the chief of
the Spaniards, he must be the cleverest of them too; but one day he
happened to find out by accident, that Pizarro could neither read nor
write, and this discovery made him think so meanly of his conqueror,
that from that moment he treated him with great contempt, saying that
Pizarro, though a general, could not be a person of any consequence in
his own country; since his common soldiers were better taught than
himself."

"Thank you, papa," said Charles, "that is just such a story as I like,
and I see that it is of no use to be rich and great, if we are not wise
also."

[Illustration: THE AFRICAN TORN FROM HIS HOME BY WHITE-MAN.]

CHAP. II.

BLACK SLAVES.

Charles used to go every fine day after his lessons were finished, to
play in the square gardens; and as all the other boys whose parents
lived in the square went there too, he had several friends, and amongst
them one a little older than himself, named Peter Ross, whom he liked
better than any of the rest.

Peter was not an English boy, he was a West-Indian: his father and
mother lived in Jamaica, but they had sent him to England to be
educated, so he lived with his uncle in Euston-square, and went every
day to the London University school.