twisting walls, decaying floor and benches sadly in need of repair.
A somewhat mournful smile played upon his lips as he thought of the
revengeful act that he had perpetrated upon his first teacher, Mr.
Leonard, and this smile died away into a more sober expression as he
remembered how his act of revenge had, like chickens, come home to
roost, when those dirty socks had made him an object of laughter at
Stowe University on commencement day.

Revenge was dead in his bosom. And it was well for the world that this
young negro had been trained in a school where there was a friendly
lance to open his veins and let out this most virulent of poisons.

Belton lingered about home, thinking of the great problem of human
life. He would walk out of town near sunset and, taking his seat on
some grassy knoll would gaze on the Blue Ridge mountains. The light
would fade out of the sky and the gloom of evening gather, but the
mountains would maintain their same bold appearance. Whenever he cast
his eyes in their direction, there they stood firm and immovable.

His pure and lofty soul had an affinity for all things grand and he
was always happy, even from childhood, when he could sit undisturbed
and gaze at the mountains, huge and lofty, rising in such
unconquerable grandeur, upward toward the sky. Belton chose the
mountain as the emblem of his life and he besought God to make him
such in the moral world.

At length he tore himself loose from the scenes of his childhood, and
embracing his fond mother, left Winchester to begin life in the city
of Richmond, the capital of the old Confederacy. Through the influence
of Mr. King, his benefactor, he secured a position as a teacher in one
of the colored schools of that city.

The principal of the school to which Belton was assigned was white,
but all the rest of the teachers were young colored women. On the
morning of his arrival at the school building Belton was taken
in charge by the principal, and by him was carried around to be
introduced to the various teachers. Before he reaches a certain room,
let us give you a slight introduction to the occupant thereof.

Antoinette Nermal was famed throughout the city for her beauty,
intelligence and virtue. Her color was what is termed a light brown
skin. We assure you that it was charming enough. She was of medium
height, and for grace and symmetry her form was fit for a sculptor's
model. Her pretty face bore the stamp of intellectuality, but