nd will were equally strong. And when in
that poor chamber he set himself down to study law, upon his own
account, with the resolution to master the profession and to distinguish
himself in it, he did so with the full consciousness of the magnitude of
the object and of his own power to attain it. Day after day he worked
hard, night after night he studied diligently.

Ishmael did not think this a hardship; he did not murmur over his
poverty, privations, and toil; no, for his own bright and beautiful
spirit turned everything to light and loveliness. He did not, indeed, in
the pride of the Pharisee, thank God that he was not as other men; but
he did feel too deeply grateful for the intellectual power bestowed upon
him, to murmur at the circumstances that made it so difficult to
cultivate that glorious gift.

One afternoon, while they were all at tea, Reuben Gray said:

"Now, Ishmael, my lad, Hannah and me are going over to spend the evening
at Brown's, who is overseer at Rushy Shore; and you might's well go with
us; there's a nice lot o' gals there. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Uncle Reuben, but I wish to read this evening," said the
youth.

"Now, Ishmael, what for should you slave yourself to death?"

"I don't, uncle. I work hard, it is true; but then, you know, youth is
the time for work, and besides I like it," said the young fellow
cheerfully.

"Well, but after hoeing and weeding and raking and planting in the
garden all the morning, and bothering your brains over them distracting
'count books all the afternoon, what's the good of your going and poring
over them stupid books all the evening?"

"You will see the good of it some of these days, Uncle Reuben," laughed
Ishmael.

"You will wear yourself out before that day comes, my boy, if you are
not careful," answered Reuben.

"I always said the fetched books would be his ruin, and now I know it,"
put in Hannah.

Ishmael laughed good-humoredly; but Reuben sighed.

"Ishmael, my lad," he said, "if you must read, do, pray, read in the
forenoon, instead of working in the garden."

"But what will become of the garden?" inquired Ishmael, with gravity.

"Oh, I can put one of the nigger boys into it."

"And have to pay for his time and not have the work half done at last."

"Well, I had rather it be so, than you should slave yourself to death."

"Oh, but I do not slave myself to death! I like to work in the garden,
and I am never happier than when I am enga