No student of Greek or
Hebrew ever deserved so much praise for ingenuity and diligence. But
the years pass on, and still you cannot read. Your master-brother
now and then gives you a copper. You hoard them, and buy a primer;
screening yourself from suspicion, by telling the bookseller that
your master wants it for his sister's little boy. You find the
picture of a cat, with three letters by its side; and now you know
how cat is spelt. Elated with your wonderful discovery, you are
eager to catch a minute to study your primer. Too eager, alas! for
your mistress catches you absorbed in it, and your little book is
promptly burned. You are sent to be flogged, and your lacerated back
is washed with brine to make it heal quickly. But in spite of all
their efforts, your intelligent mind is too cunning for them. Before
twenty years have passed, you have stumbled along into the Bible;
alone in the dark, over a rugged road of vowels and consonants. You
keep the precious volume concealed under a board in the floor, and
read it at snatches, by the light of a pine knot.
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