over and over his lesson, grafting it firmly in his memory lest it
should escape him. In this way our boy took his first step in knowledge.
Two or three times in the course of the week the professor would come to
give him another lesson. And Ishmael paid for his tuition by doing the
least of the little odd jobs for the professor of that useful art.

"You see I can feel for the boy like a father, Miss Hannah," said the
professor, after giving his lesson one evening; "because, you know, I am
in a manner self-educated myself. I had to pick up reading, writing, and
'rithmetick any way I could from the white children. So I can feel for
this boy as I once felt for myself. All my children are girls; but if I
had a son I couldn't feel more pride in him than I do in this boy. And I
tell you again, he is going to make a man one of these days."

Ishmael thought so too. He had previsions of future success, as every
very intelligent lad must have; but at present his ambition took no very
lofty flights. The greatest man of his acquaintance was the Professor of
Odd Jobs. And to attain the glorious eminence occupied by the learned
and eloquent dignitary was the highest aspiration of our boy's early
genius.

"Aunty," he said one day, after remaining in deep thought for a long
time, "do you think if I was to study very hard indeed, night and day,
for years and years, I should ever be able to get as much knowledge and
make as fine speeches as the professor?"

"How do I know, Ishmael? You ask such stupid questions. All I can say
is, if it aint in you it will never come out of you," answered the
unappreciating aunt.