"Pooh! I knows more than they do now--a heap more."

"In some ways you do; but they know things that give them power and
wealth and make them rule."

"No, no. They don't really rule; they just thinks they rule. They just
got things--heavy, dead things. We black folks is got the _spirit_.
We'se lighter and cunninger; we fly right through them; we go and come
again just as we wants to. Black folks is wonderful."

He did not understand what she meant; but he knew what he wanted and he
tried again.

"Even if white folks don't know everything they know different things
from us, and we ought to know what they know."

This appealed to her somewhat.

"I don't believe they know much," she concluded; "but I'll learn to read
and just see."

"It will be hard work," he warned. But he had come prepared for
acquiescence. He took a primer from his pocket and, lighting a match,
showed her the alphabet.

"Learn those," he said.

"What for?" she asked, looking at the letters disdainfully.

"Because that's the way," he said, as the light flared and went out.