ay in her life. She washed the Boy's face and hands with
scrupulous care when the breakfast things were cleared away, and her
grey eyes were shining with a joy he had never seen before. He caught
her excitement and the spirit of it took possession of his imagination.

"What'll school be like, Ma?" he asked in a tense whisper.

"Oh, this one won't be very exciting; maybe in a little room built of
logs. But it's the beginning, Boy, of greater things. Just spelling,
reading, writing and arithmetic now--but you're starting on the way that
leads out of these silent, lonely woods into the big world where great
men fight and make history. Your father has never known this way. He's
good and kind and gentle and generous, but he's just a child, because
he doesn't know. You're going to be a man among men for your mother's
sake, aren't you?"

She seized his arms and gripped them in her eagerness until he felt the
pain.

"Won't you, Boy?" she repeated tensely.

He looked up steadily and then slowly said:

"Yes, I will."

She clasped him impulsively in her arms and hurried from the cabin
leading the children by the hand. The Boy could feel her slender fingers
trembling.

When they drew near the cross roads where the little log house had been
built, she stopped, nervously fixed their clothes, took off the Boy's
cap and brushed his thick black hair.

They were the first to arrive, but in a few minutes others came, and by
nine o'clock more than thirty scholars were in their seats. The mother's
heart sank within her when she met the teacher and heard him talk. It
was only too evident that he was poorly equipped for his work. He could
barely read and could neither write nor teach arithmetic. The one
qualification about which there was absolute certainty, was that he
could lick the biggest boy in school whenever the occasion demanded it.
He conveyed this interesting bit of information to the assemblage in no
uncertain language.

The mother could scarcely keep back her tears. By the end of the week it
was plain that her children knew as much as their teacher.

"What's the use?" Tom asked in disgust. "Hit's a waste o' time an'
money. Let 'em quit!"

"No, I can't take them out!" was the firm reply. "They may not learn
much, but if the school keeps going, don't you see, a better man will
come bye and bye, and then it will be worth while."

Tom shook his head, but let her have her own way.

"Besides," she went on, "he'll learn