She did not know what mournful cadences of
memory thrilled him, as he rocked himself back and forth among the dead
weeds, with his arms around his knees and his head bowed on them. She
knew nothing of the music that had sung wordless longings into his
simple child-heart until it awakened answering voices of a deathless
ambition. So her surprise knew no bounds when he came slowly into the
cabin one evening, and asked if he might be allowed to start to
school the following week.
"Law, chile!" she answered. "They isn't any school for cul'ud folks
less'n a mile an' a half away, an' besides, you hasn't clothes fitten to
wear. The scholars would all laugh at you."
Still he persisted. "What put such a notion in yo' head, anyhow?" she
demanded.
John Jay turned his face aside, and busied himself with taking another
reef in his suspenders. "The Rev'und Gawge wanted me to go," he said, in
a low tone. "Besides, how can I know what all's in the books he done
left me 'thout I learn to read?"
"That's so," assented Mammy, looking proudly at the shelves now
ornamenting one corner of the little cabin with George's well-worn
school-books.
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