negroes, who were now her only customers, and it was late when she
returned to the hut. When she opened the door a strange sight met her
eyes. The Professor of Odd Jobs occupied the seat of honor in the arm
chair in the chimney corner. On his knees lay the open Bible; while by
his side stood little Ishmael, holding an end of candle in his hand, and
diligently conning the large letters on the title page. The little
fellow looked up with his face full of triumph, exclaiming:

"Oh, aunty, I know all the letters on this page now! And the professor
is going to teach me to read! And I am going to help him gather his
herbs and roots every day to pay him for his trouble!"

The professor looked up and smiled apologetically, saying:

"I just happened in, Miss Hannah, to see if there was anything wanting
to be done, and I found this boy lying on the floor with the Bible open
before him trying to puzzle out the letters for himself. And as soon as
he saw me he up and struck a bargain with me to teach him to read. And
I'll tell you what, Miss Hannah, he's going to make a man one of these
days! You know I've been a colored schoolmaster, among my other
professions, and I tell you I never came across such a quick little
fellow as he is, bless his big head! There now, my little man, that's
learning enough for one sitting. And besides the candle is going out,"
concluded the professor, as he arose and closed the book and departed.

But again Ishmael held a different opinion from his elders; and lying
down before the fire-lit hearth, with the book open before him, he went
over and over his lesson, grafting it firmly in his memory lest it
should escape him. In this way our boy took his first step in knowledge.
Two or three times in the course of the week the professor would come to
give him another lesson. And Ishmael paid for his tuition by doing the
least of the little odd jobs for the professor of that useful art.

"You see I can feel for the boy like a father, Miss Hannah," said the
professor, after giving his lesson one evening; "because, you know, I am
in a manner self-educated myself. I had to pick up reading, writing, and
'rithmetick any way I could from the white children. So I can feel for
this boy as I once felt for myself. All my children are girls; but if I
had a son I couldn't feel more pride in him than I do in this boy. And I
tell you again, he is going to make a man one of these days."

Ishmael thought so too. He had pr