The next day we were bundled off to school, distant more than thirty miles, driven by the family coachman. Old Master and Old Miss walked with us as far as the big gate that opened into a street of the town. I say, walked with us, but they walked with Bob, I keeping close pace behind, constantly afraid that my mistress would turn upon me with her stout parasol, yet too discreet to fall farther back, lest I might by this show of caution call her wrath upon me. At the gate, when the driver got off his seat and stood by the open door of the carriage, Old Miss put her arms about Bob, with more of affection than I had ever seen her show, and bade him be a good boy and keep his mind on his book. She kissed him time and again and then she turned to me, Old Master standing there waiting for the end of her part of the ceremony: "Dan," she said, "I want you to black his shoes every morning." This, with the tears in her eyes, and with sorrow in her voice, touched a foolish sense within me and I giggled, dodging wisely as I did so; and it was well that I did, for in a fury she struck at me with her parasol. "The infamous imp!" she cried, "standing there laughing at me. General," she demanded, stamping the ground, "wear your cane out on him. I won't be treated in such a manner—I won't put up with everything from that ape."

My impulse was to run, but I killed it with a gentle resolve; I dropped upon my knees in the dust of the road and humbly begged her pardon. This act of grace was most effective. This humility, done, I fancy, with some show of gallantry, won her for the moment, and bowing to me she said: "I know you didn't mean it, Dan. There, go on and be a good boy."

We bade them good-bye and were rolled away, and hour after hour, amid the changing scenes of that charming country, a vision of that woman stood before me, bowing, and my heart was warmer toward her than it had ever been. Strange, and now almost incomprehensible life—absolute despotism in free America.

The Layfield school was set among romantic hills. As a seat of learning, it was unpretentious. The main house was of brick, with dormer windows and green blinds; the other buildings were cottages, mostly of logs, scattered along a shaded avenue, leading down to the banks of a green river; and I remember that the first sight of this great stream (it must have been fifty feet wide, but it was an Amazon to me, fresh from the little creek running through the pasture) thrilled me with a mysterious delight. Upon a near approach though, I was disappointed, not at its size, but at its quietude; for if our creek could sing, why did not this river shout? And it gave no sound save a low murmur almost as still as silence.

The master of Layfield Academy was an old man with long, white hair. He received us most kindly and himself went with us to the cottage we were to occupy, together with a number of boys, sons of wealthy men, many of them attended by the unmistakable mark of Blue Grass gentility—the favored slave. And it was not without a feeling of pride that I heard a young fellow say, "Gradley's got the best-looking nigger in the crowd." My master and I occupied a small, but comfortable room, that is, comfortable for him, but with regard to me, the line was closer drawn than it had been at home, for instead of sleeping upon a lounge, I was assigned to a rug upon the floor. Bob did not like this, and he grumbled to the Master and was told very emphatically that he must not seek to interfere with the time-honored regulations of that great educational household. I soon found that my life here was not to be altogether peaceful, for the spirit of rivalry existing among the young masters extended to the slaves. And of a Saturday those blood-loving spirits would match their "niggers" against one another like cocks in a pit and bet on the result. My master was too young to be a leader, but he was forced to take a part in the sport, and it redounded to my credit when I bloodied the flat nose of a black fellow who strove to knock me out of a ring. This made Bob an important factor, gave him a new bearing, and I remember that I lay down upon my rug with a feeling of pride.

"Oh, we'll show 'em what's what," Bob declared. "And after I whip Saunders, we'll be way up."

"But do you think you can whip him?" I asked.

The moon was shining into our room and I saw him rise up in bed. "Why, of course I can. And the fight is set for to-morrow."

"He's bigger'n you," I remarked.

"Yes, but he hasn't got the blood. His people don't amount to anything. You just wait."

I had to wait, but it was not with any great confidence, for Saunders was a lusty youth. I expressed no further fear, however, and early in the morning I rubbed my master down with a coarse towel and with him set out for the battle ground. Saunders was already there, with a party of boys about him, feeling the muscles in his arms. The affair was conducted with great secrecy, and each warrior had to promise that in case his teeth were knocked out he would swear that he had fallen down. I was nervous. The negro boys looking at me, shook their heads. The line was drawn and the combatants stationed. The word was given and I looked away. Then followed the sound of quick blows—then came a shout, all before I looked toward the ring. And when I did look, I saw Saunders on the ground. I threw up my hat and shouted, whereupon a yellow fellow who belonged to Saunders struck me. Well, when we went back to our quarters my master and I both were heroes. And now, having established his standing, Young Master was permitted to enter upon his studies. This had all happened within a week.

It was here that a desire to learn first took strong hold of me. Of course I did not presume to own a book, or to study one except at night, when Bob and I were alone. In a negro any show of intellectual ambition was looked upon as a rebellion against the unwritten law of society, and thus to steal the mind mysteries that made the white man great was doubly sweetened. I kept so good a pace with Bob that in me he sometimes found a helper over rough places, and I even now recall with pride that one night he looked at me admiringly and said: "Dan, it's a shame that you ain't a white boy."

At the end of the fourth week, Old Master and Old Miss drove over in the carriage. The president of the school met them with great ceremony and would not let them rest until he had shown them through his establishment. Bob went with them and I was permitted to hang behind, upon the implied condition that I was not to hear anything that was said. But I did hear and I remembered. In one corner of the main recitation room was a globe and shelves holding numerous books, to me the most learned spot in the world; and here the company halted.

"These books," said the president, "are kept here in constant view of the student to stimulate his ambition, to force upon his mind the power and the importance of thought. He has heard of the earth's great minds, and here he finds the fruit of those minds. I do not believe in shutting books in a stuffy room, sir; they ought to be where the sun-light, the companion of learning, can constantly fall upon them. Ah, and I am sure that as time passes your son will draw many a draft from this well. Won't you, Robert?"

Bob looked at him, while his parents waited for his answer, and said: "I like books with pictures in 'em."

"Ah, quite a shrewd remark," declared the president, putting his hand upon Bob's head. "His thought turns upon art, no mean branch of learning, I assure you. Of course, he is as yet too young to be consulted, General, but have you thought upon any profession for him?"

"The law," Old Master answered.

"The ministry," said Old Miss.

"Maw, what's that?" Bob asked.

"I want you to be a preacher," his mother replied, drawing him toward her, buttoning his jacket and then unbuttoning it.

"I don't want to be a preacher. They don't have any fun!"

"Hush, sir," she said. "Your grandfather was a preacher."

"But he didn't have any fun."

"Hush, I tell you."

"I will, but did he have any fun?"

Old Master chuckled and Mistress gave him a sour look. The president coughed. "Both the law and the ministry are learned professions," he said, "and I have no doubt that our little man would grace either calling."

"Bob," said Mistress, "show me your sleeping room. You needn't come with us," she added, speaking to the president. "We will not presume to take up any more of your time—you've been so very, very kind, I assure you."

I think that the president would have urged his attendance, but that he was afraid to show how much time he could spare, so he bowed and said: "I thank you for the confidence you have reposed in me, placing your son in my charge, and I assure you that I shall do my utmost by him. Now, make yourselves perfectly at home."

Old Miss turned up her nose when she entered our room. "Whew, it smells like a bear's den," she said, and Old Master's spare frame shook with laughter. "And for pity sake, what have you got in this cup?" she asked, looking at a tin can on a table.

"Fish-worm oil," Bob spoke up rather proudly. "We dug the worms and roasted their oil out. Rub it on my legs so I can run fast."

Master snorted and Mistress turned to me. "Dan," she asked, clearing her throat with a dry rasp, "isn't this one of your negro superstitions? Didn't you put him up to it?"

"Madam," said Old Master before I could reply, "the knowledge of the efficacy of angle-worm oil comes down from the ancients and I am astonished that you should impute it to negro superstition. Leander, before trusting himself to the torrent of the Hellespont, rubbed himself with it, and if you read closely, you will find that Byron went through the same performance before tempting the same feat. Haven't you read of the angle-worm oil bearer at the Olympian games?"

He slyly turned his face away to laugh, and Old Miss, like all pretentious persons, afraid of the weapon of wisdom, was willing enough to change the subject. "I am glad to see that you are learning," she said to Bob, "but I don't want you to learn things that will be of no particular use to you. By the way, General, I don't want you to school him into the notion of becoming a lawyer or a doctor."

"Surely not a doctor," Master replied. "We have one doctor in the family and he is quite sufficient—unto himself. What's that in the Bible, 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof'? That's it. Well it suits him any way."

Old Miss sat down, gathering her skirts that they might touch nothing. "General, that's no way to talk," she said. She looked about and cried suddenly. "Why, is that a poultice there on the mantle-piece?"

"Boxing glove," said Bob, and Old Master roared again.

"General!" she spoke up in sharp reproof, "I do wish you wouldn't stimulate disrespect by your constant tittering and teheeing. One would think that you had sent the boy here as a monster joke. To send a child away from home is no jest, I assure you."

"Madam," said Master, winking at us, lifting the tails of his long coat and seating himself on a corner of the table, "it makes me young again to come into a place like this, and being young I must be foolish. Well," he added after a pause, "do you want to stay here to-night, or shall we stop on the road?"

"We might as well go," she answered, getting up. "There's nothing to be done here. Bob, you must write to me every other day. And Dan, I want you to see that his shoes are blacked every morning." And here, remembering the disrespect that I had shown her in the road, she seized her parasol as if to strike me. But with hypocritical gallantry (shrewd rascal that I was) I dropped upon one knee, caught her hand impulsively and assured her that my young master's comfort and good appearance should be the study of my life. And in her eyes there was a light of real kindliness. "There, get up," she said. "I am glad to see that you are improving. General, we may make a respectable servant of him yet."

When the carriage had rolled away, Bob and I ran back to the room, locked the door, rubbed our joints with the fish-worm oil and wrestled with each other in ecstasy.