The boy grew scarlet and his lips trembled. "No, sir," he answered. "I'm
jest learnin' it now. I'll know what it means when I'm bigger--"

"And you expect to remember it?" asked the judge.

"I don't never forget," said the boy.

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the judge for the third time.

For a moment he stood looking silently down upon the marble slab with
its defaced lettering. Of the wordy epitaph which had once redounded to
the honour of the bones beneath there remained only the words "who
departed," but he read these with a long abstracted gaze.

"Let me see," he said at last, speaking with his accustomed dignity.
"Did you ever go to school, Nicholas?"

"Yes, sir."

"When?"

"I went 'most three winters, sir, but I had to leave off on o'count o'
pa's not havin' any hand 'cep'n me."

The judge smiled.

"Ah, well," he returned. "We'll see if you can't begin again. My boy has
a tutor, you know, and his playmates come to study with him. He's about
your age, and it will give you a start. Come in to-morrow at nine, and
we'll talk it over. No, don't get up. I am going."