"Zora," he announced one morning under their forest oak, "you must go to
school."

She eyed him, surprised.

"Why?"

"You've found some things worth knowing in this world, haven't you,
Zora?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"But there are more--many, many more--worlds on worlds of things--you
have not dreamed of."

She stared at him, open-eyed, and a wonder crept upon her face battling
with the old assurance. Then she looked down at her bare brown feet and
torn gown.

"I've got a little money, Zora," he said quickly.

But she lifted her head.

"I'll earn mine," she said.

"How?" he asked doubtfully.

"I'll pick cotton."