doan't yer speak up, boy, an' tell de lady yer name?"

Trusty grunted.

"He doesn't seem very glad to be here," suggested Miss Doane mildly.

"No, Miss, dat's de trufe," agreed the parent cordially, "dat's de
trufe! Yer see, he ain't r'ally used ter w'ite folks' school, 'counten
allays gwine ter Miss Pauline Smiff's. Yas'm. He ain't r'ally used ter
w'ite folks, an' he jes seem ter natchelly balk at de idea fum de
fus."

"I see," returned Miss Doane modestly, producing a reader by way of
tactful diversion.

Miss Pauline Smith's ex-pupil looked at it a bit askance, and Miss
Doane proceeded in a somewhat harrowing attempt to discover and lay
bare anything in the least suggestive of knowledge--as such.

"I see," she concluded finally, when there was positively nothing
more left to discover; "I see. Will you follow me, please?"

With unexpected docility, Trusty turned and, with his eyes fixed on a
closed door toward which Miss Doane led the way, followed, he knew not
where.

"Miss North," began Miss Doane, when the door had opened and closed
again, "Miss North, I have a new pupil for you."

Miss North tried to look as if this were the most unexpected bit of