Certain it is, he suddenly seemed to lose all
ambition and energy. Instead of making the brilliant lawyer his friends
expected, he had come down at last to be the keeper of the toll-gate on
a country turnpike.
Lying on his pillow in the dense shadow, John Jay looked out into the
white moonlight, and listened to the old story told all over again. But
this time there was added the history of Jintsey's boy, who seemed to
have been born with the ambition hot in his heart to win an education.
He had done it. There was a quiver of pride in Uncle Billy's voice as he
told how the boy had outstripped his young master in the long race; but
there was a loyal and tender undercurrent of excuse for the unfortunate
heir running through all his talk.
It had taken twenty years of struggle and work for the little black boy
to realize his hopes. He had grown to be a grave man of thirty-three
before it was accomplished. Now he had come home from a Northern college
with his diploma and his degree.
"He have fought a good fight," said Uncle Billy in conclusion, finishing
as usual with a scriptural quotation.
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