alues were absolutely out of their realm.
Besides, they did not know how much wages they were to get, neither
could they figure the prices of the things they bought. At any rate,
when pay-day came they were still in debt, so they saw no real
money--certainly little Booker at this time of his life never did.

* * * * *

General Lewis Ruffner owned the salt-works and the coalmine where little
Booker worked. He was stern, severe, strict. But he believed Negroes
were human beings, and there were those then who disputed the
proposition.

Ruffner organized a night-school for his helpers, and let a couple of
his bookkeepers teach it. At this time there was not a colored person in
the neighborhood who could spell cat, much less write his name. A few
could count five. Booker must have been about ten years old when one day
he boasted a bit of his skill in mathematics. The foreman told him to
count the loads of coal as they came out of the mine. The boy started in
bravely, "One--two--three--four--dere goes one, dere goes anoder,
anoder, anoder, anoder, anoder!"

The foreman laughed.

The boy was abashed, then chagrined. "Send me to the night-school and in
a month I'll show you how to count!"

The foreman wrote the lad an order which admitted him to the
night-school.

But now there was another difficulty--the boy worked until nine o'clock
at night, the last hour's work being to sweep out the office. The
night-school began at nine o'clock and it was two miles away.

The lad scratched his head and thought and thought. A great idea came to
him--he would turn the office clock ahead half an hour. He could then
leave at nine o'clock, and by running part of the way could get to
school at exactly nine o'clock.

The scheme worked for two days, when one of the clerks in the office
said that a spook was monkeying with the clock. They tried the plan of
locking the case, and all was well.

Booker must have been about twelve years old, goin' on thirteen, when
one day as he lay on his back in the coalmine, pushing out the broken
coal with his feet, he overheard two men telling of a very wonderful
school where colored people were taught to read, write and cipher--also,
how to speak in public. The scholars were allowed to work part of the
time to pay for their board.

The lad crawled close in the darkness and listened to the conversation.
He caught the names "Hampton" and "Armstrong." Whether Armstrong w