"Uncle," she said, bravely, "can I go to school?"

He stared at her directly for a moment, from under his heavy brows;
but her own gaze never wavered.

"How much schoolin' do you want?" he demanded, harshly.

"If you please Uncle Jabez, all I can get," replied Ruth.

"Ha! Readin', writin', an' mighty little 'rithmatic-- we called 'em
'the three R's '-- did for me when I was a boy. The school tax they
put onto me ev'ry year is something wicked. And I never had chick nor
child to go to their blamed old school."

"Let me go, Uncle, and so get some of your money back that way," Ruth
said, quickly, and smiling in her little, birdlike way with her head
on one side.

"Ha! I don't know about that," he growled, shaking his head. "I don't
see what I'll be makin' out of it."

"Perhaps I can help you later, if you'll let me learn enough," she
urged. "I can learn enough arithmetic to keep your books. I'll try
real hard."

"I don't know about that," he said, again, eyeing her suspiciously.
"The little money I make I kin keep watch of-- when I'm here to watch
it, that is. There ain't no book-keeping necessary in my business. And
then-- there's your Aunt Alviry. She needs you."