"Yes, Aunt Comfort, that little speck, as you call it, makes all the
difference--it makes O into Q."

"Oh, go 'way, child," said she, indignantly, "you isn't gwine to fool me
dat ar way. I knows you of old, honey--you's up to dese 'ere things--you
know you allus was mighty 'chevious, and I isn't gwine to b'lieve dat dat
ar little speck makes all the difference--no such thing, case it
don't--deys either both O's or both Q's. I'm clar o' dat--deys either one
or tother."

Knowing by long experience the utter futility of attempting to convince
Aunt Comfort that she was in the wrong, by anything short of a miracle, the
teacher wisely skipped over the obnoxious letter, then all went smoothly on
to the conclusion of the alphabet.

The lesson having terminated, Miss Cass looked up and discovered standing
near her a coloured boy, who she correctly surmised was sent as an addition
to her class. "Come here, and sit down," said she, pointing to a seat next
Aunt Comfort. "What is your name?"

Charlie gave his name and residence, which were entered in due form on the
teacher's book. "Now, Charles," she continued, "do you know your letters?"

"Yes, ma'am," was the answer.

"Can you spell?" she inquired. To this also Charlie gave an affirmative,
highly amused at the same time at being asked such a question.

Miss Cass inquired no further into the extent of his acquirements, it never
having entered her head that he could do more than spell. So handing him