understand his father's wish and in his heart repeat it.

But there was one in those Yesterdays, upon whose knowledge the boy
looked in admiring awe, who taught him that which he could never
outgrow. Very different from the wisdom of the hired man was the
wisdom of this one. Very different was his knowledge from the
knowledge of the old negro. Nor was his learning like, in any way, to
the learning that made the boy's father so good and so wise among men.

But this leader did not often come openly to the boy's home. Always,
when his mother saw the boy in the company of this one, she called him
into the house, and often she explained to him that the one whom he so
admired was a bad boy and that she did not wish her little son to play
with him. So this intellectual leader of the Yesterdays was forced to
come, stealthily, through the orchard, dodging from tree to tree,
until, from behind the woodshed, he could, with a low whistle, attract
the attention of his admiring disciple and beckon him to his side.
Then the two would slip away over the brow of the hill or down behind
the barn where, safe from mother's watchful eye, the boy could enjoy
the companionship of this one whom Knowledge had so distinguished.

And often the older boy laughed at the Ignorance of his younger
companion--laughed and sneered at him in the pride of superior
learning--while the little boy felt ashamed and, filled with
admiration for his forbidden friend, wondered if he would ever grow to
be as wise. Scarcely could he hope, for instance, to be able, ever, to
smoke and chew and swear in so masterful a way. And the little
learner's face would beam with timid adoration and envy as he listened
to the tales of wicked adventures so boastfully related by his
teacher. Would he, could he, ever be so bold, so wise in knowledge of