himself on the raised platform beside the master's chair, having
previously dusted it with the flap of his hat. Finding, however, that
the attitude was not conducive to explanation, he presently rose again,
and picking up one of the school-books from the master's desk eyed it
unskilfully upside down, and then said hesitatingly,--

"I reckon ye ain't usin' Dobell's 'Rithmetic here?"

"No," said the master.

"That's bad. 'Pears to be played out--that Dobell feller. I was brought
up on Dobell. And Parsings' Grammar? Ye don't seem to be a using
Parsings' Grammar either?"

"No," said the master, relenting still more as he glanced at Uncle Ben's
perplexed face with a faint smile.

"And I reckon you'd be saying the same of Jones' 'Stronomy and Algebry?
Things hev changed. You've got all the new style here," he continued,
with affected carelessness, but studiously avoiding the master's eye.
"For a man ez wos brought up on Parsings, Dobell, and Jones, thar don't
appear to be much show nowadays."

The master did not reply. Observing several shades of color chase each
other on Uncle Ben's face, he bent his own gravely over his books. The
act appeared to relieve his companion, who with his eyes still turned
towards the window went on:

"Ef you'd had them books--which you haven't--I had it in my mind to
ask you suthen'. I had an idea of--of--sort of reviewing my eddication.