"Much obliged, Harry. No, ma'am, Harry is a nice boy;
but he doesn't know. I know there is a lot to learn,
and I guess a lot to unlearn; and I feel all outside;
I don't even know how to get at it. I have wished a thousand
times that I could talk with the lady who taught me to speak
in the first place." He walked on by her side, talking eagerly.
"You don't know how many times I have felt I would give most
anything for the opportunity of just seeing you and talking
with you; those things you said to me I always remembered."
He had a hundred questions evidently stinging his tongue.
And some of them seemed to Mrs. Carriswood very apposite.

"I'm on the outside of such a lot of things," says he.
"When I first began to suspect that I was on the outside was when I
went to the High School, and sometimes I was invited to Harry's;
that was my first acquaintance with cultivated society.
You can't learn manners from books, ma'am. I learned them at
Harry's. That is,"--he colored and laughed,--"I learned SOME.
There's plenty left, I know. Then, I went to the University.
Some of the boys came from homes like Harry's, and some of the
professors there used to ask us to their houses; and I saw engravings
and oil paintings, and heard the conversation of persons of culture.
All this only makes me know enough to KNOW I am outside.
I can see the same thing with the lawyers, too.
There is a set of them that are after another kind of things;
that think themselves above me and my sort of fellows.
You know all the talk about this being a free and equal country.
That's the tallest kind of humbug, madam! It is that.
There are sets, one above another, everywhere; big bugs