The startled preacher hastily arose from the table and gazed on the
little fellow in bewilderment. As soon as it dawned upon him what
the trouble was, he hastily got the remaining biscuit and gave it to
Belton. He also discovered that his voracity had made enemies of the
rest of the children, and he very adroitly passed a five cent piece
around to each.

James Henry, forgetting his altitude and anxious not to lose his
recompense, cried out loudly from the loft: "Amanda Ann you git mine
fur me."

The preacher looked up but saw no one. Seeing that his request did not
have the desired effect, James Henry soon tumbled down full of dust,
straw and cobwebs, and came into possession of his appeasing money.
The preacher laughed heartily and seemed to enjoy his experience
highly.

The table was cleared, and the preacher and Mrs. Piedmont dismissed
the children in order to discuss unmolested the subject which had
prompted her to extend an invitation to the parson. In view of the
intense dislike the teacher had conceived for Belton, she desired
to know if it were not best to withdraw him from school altogether,
rather than to subject him to the harsh treatment sure to come.

"Let me gib yer my advis, sistah Hannah. De greatest t'ing in de wul
is edification. Ef our race ken git dat we ken git ebery t'ing else.
Dat is de key. Git de key an' yer ken go in de house to go whare you
please. As fur his beatin' de brat, yer musn't kick agin dat. He'll
beat de brat to make him larn, and won't dat be a blessed t'ing? See
dis scar on side my head? Old marse Sampson knocked me down wid a
single-tree tryin' to make me stop larning, and God is so fixed it dat
white folks is knocking es down ef we don't larn. Ef yer take Belton
out of school yer'll be fighting 'genst de providence of God."

Being thus advised by her shepherd, Mrs. Piedmont decided to keep
Belton in school. So on Monday Belton went back to his brutal teacher,
and thither we follow him.

CHAPTER IV.

THE TURNING OF A WORM.

As to who Mr. Tiberius Gracchus Leonard was, or as to where he came
from, nobody in Winchester, save himself, knew.

Immediately following the close of the Civil War, Rev. Samuel
Christian, a poor but honorable retired minister of the M.E. Church,
South, was the first teacher employed to instruct the colored children
of the town.

He was one of those Southerners who had never believed in the morality
of slavery, but regarded it as a de