gals no good to be too book-l'arned--jes' meks 'em uppish
an' no-'count."

Mr. Rogers submitted to his wife's decree. "I boss the boys," he said,
"but I reckon Cynthy Ann knows whut's best fur the gals; though, ez fur
ez I'm consarned, I'd like Cissy to be ez eddicated ez any uv them
high-flyers 'roun' Lexin'ton."

Susan was ambitious and loved study, and, although she did not openly
rebel against her mother's ruling, went about her household tasks in a
dejected way which greatly tried bustling Mrs. Rogers.

"Now, Cissy," she said, coming to the girl's room one night and finding
her sobbing over disappointed hopes, "don't you s'pose yer own mammy'll
do whut's best fur her dautah? You mustn't think 'cause I'm sharp an'
stirrin' with you thet I don't love you." She seated herself on the
side of the bed and began to stroke Susan's hair. "'Tain't no use fur
you to tek on so. You must jes' trust yer mammy, an' by an' by you'll
see I'm right. I can't spar' you frum home this wintah, but you kin
study o' nights, an' Abner'll holp you with yer books. So cheer up, lak
a good gal; an' nex' time the packman comes 'long--an' I'm lookin' fer
him 'most any day--I'll buy you some ribbon fur yer hair an' a string
uv beads. Soon's we git the heft o' the fall wuck did up, you'n' me
will mek you one o' them fine quilted silk petticoats, lak Betsy's, to
w'ar under yer red calaminco dress. Thah now!"--and she kissed the
girl--"say yer prayers, an' go to sleep." Then she murmured as she left
the room, "Pore gal! 'Tis hard on her; but I jes' can't spar' her this
wintah. I know she's ez purty an' ez good a gal ez kin be found
anywhahs!"

As the weeks went by, Betsy Gilcrest did not sing over her work in her
old light-hearted way. Mrs. Gilcrest was not an observant woman; but
Aunt Dilsey, the old "black mammy," noticed the change in her idolized
young mistress. "The keer ob dis place an' all de man'gin' o' dem noisy
boys an' lazy niggahs am too much 'sponsibility fur sich young
shouldahs ez hern. Ole Dilsey does whut she kin to spar' de precious
chile frum worry an' care; but one ole niggah lak me carn't do
ebbrythin'; an' 'tain't no wondah Miss Betsy's gittin' pale an' peeky
an' low-spereted."

CHAPTER XIII.

COURT DAY

The old-time county court, held once a month, usually on Monday, was an
interesting feature of early statehood.

Judging by the crowds that always assembled at the county-seat upon
court day, one would have s