ly; but
what he read was inflammable matter of the worst kind, a speech which
had been written for just such purposes, and which was now being
circulated through the district. Mephistopheles in the form of Harnett
Ammerton seemed to whisper in the schoolmaster's ears, "Do you take
pride to yourself that you taught that man to read?"

The reader stopped; he had discovered the new auditor. The men stared;
they had never seen the master at the Corners before. They drew together
and waited. He approached them, and paused a moment; then he began to
speak.

"I have come, friends," he said, "to make a proposition to you. You, on
your side, have nothing laid up for the winter, and I, on my side, am
anxious to have your work. I have a field, you know, a cotton-field;
what do you say to going to work there, all of you, for a month? I will
agree to pay you more than any man about here pays, and you shall have
the cash every Monday morning regularly. We will hold a meeting over at
Jubilee, and you shall choose your own overseer; for I am very ignorant
about cotton-fields; I must trust to you. What do you say?"

The men looked at each other, but no one spoke.

"Think of your little children without clothes."

Still silence.

"I have not succeeded among you," continued the teacher, "as well as I
hoped to succeed. You do not come to school any more, and I suppose it
is because you do not like me."

Something like a murmur of dissent came from the group. The voice went
on:

"I have thought of something I can do, however. I can write to the North
for another teacher to take my place, and he shall be a man of your own
race; one who is educated, and, if possible, also a clergyman of your
own faith. You can have a little church then, and Sabbath services. As
soon as he comes, I will yield my place to him; but, in the mean time,
will you not cultivate that field for me? I ask it as a favor. It will
be but for a little while, for, when the new teacher comes, I shall
go--unless, indeed," he added, looking around with a smile that was
almost pathetic in its appeal, "you should wish me to stay."

There was no answer. He had thrown out this last little test question
suddenly. It had failed.

"I am sorry I have not succeeded better at Jubilee," he said after a
short pause--and his voice had altered in spite of his
self-control--"but at least you will believe, I hope, that I have
tried."

"Dat's so"; "Dat's de trouf," said one or tw