In Goose Alley

THE moon dropped from behind a cloud on to the still floor of the sky and shone steadily down on Hampton Roads. By the edge of the water stood a dark figure looking up, while swiftly, here and there, across the grounds of the Institute which bordered on the Roads, moved other dark figures. With the exception of the still one by the water, however, they all seemed to be moving on to some definite purpose, to have some final goal in view, while Romulus Quick, still gazing upwards, was apparently sunk in meditation. For Romulus had just attended one of the Sunday evening meetings in the old Virginia Hall chapel, and there he had listened to a talk which still ran vaguely in his ears.

“ We have got to lift our people out of this abyss of ignorance and superstition! ”

Romulus fastened a boat and struck off across the grounds, still meditating.

“ Dat’s a fac’,” he ruminated.

“ It’s appalling,” came the voice in his ears; “ the depth of ignorance and superstition among our people is nothing short of appalling.”

“ Sho! ” murmured Romulus, “ cert’nly is a shame! ” He passed out through the gates and turned into Goose Alley, while the moon from out the still floor of the sky now shone straight down into his own modest dooryard. Into the flood of bright, steady light bobbed two small colored boys, chasing their own shadows ecstatically, and then bobbing, with hilarious tagging movements, around Romulus’s legs.

“ Oh, ain’t you-all foolish ’n’ triflin’! ” came a quick protest of disgust, “ runnin’ roun’ an’ dodgin’ an’ bus’in’ right out laffin’ on Sunday! Now, why n’t you ’have you’selves ? ”

The two small colored boys looked momentarily rebuked and then dropped back into their dodging manoeuvres again.

“ Oh, cert’nly mek me tiahed! ” protested Romulus; “ look like a man cyan’t even have no peace a-walkin’ down de road to ’is own do’. Well, it’s jes ez de gen’leman say, yer’s s’ ign’rant I s’pose yer doan’ know no better, needer one uv yer! S’ ign’rant an’ superstitious! " continued Romulus warmly, “ an’ I kin prove it! ”

The dodgers looked quite alarmed at the prospects.

“ I kin prove it,” repeated Romulus with growing confidence, and glancing at the closed door just before him, “an’ ’xpose yer! By axin’ not mo’n two free questions, too! An’ hyeah ’s de fus’ question now, an’ yer kin answer it ef yer kin. W’at’s a do’ fer? ”

There was a dreadful silence, and the dodgers felt the hand of fate suddenly suspended above them with threatening significance, and an entire future trembling wretchedly in the balance.

“ Huh ? W’at’s a do’ fer ? ” demanded Romulus again. “ An’ ef yer cyan’t answer, w’y, jes say so! ”

“ Ter open,” spoke up one, with full realization of the frightful danger of the venture.

“Ter shet! ” faintly suggested the other.

“ ’T ain’ no sech a thing! ” contradicted Romulus, with scorn too deep for really proper expression, “ co’se sometime a do’ does open, an’ ’casion’ly it shets. But yer ain’ s’pose it’s buil’ fer dat pu’pose, is yer?”

He seemed to tower miles above them, and the dodgers appeared to be fast shriveling away to indiscriminate atoms.

“ A do’,” he went on, his voice adapting itself beautifully to the situation, “ is p’imarily fer keepin’ out mersquiters, wasps, rain, bu’glars, fire-flies, birds, tom-cats, bumble-bees, gnats, all smaller an’muls an’ so fo’th. Nex’, a do’ is fer walkin’ inter w’en yer wants ter go in, an’ fer walkin’ out uv w’en yer wants ter go out. Ain’ dat so? Well, w’at yer mean by stan’in’ up dere an’ givin’ me seek triflin’ answers fer, anyway ? ”

The dodgers looked as if they would like to be excused from living, if possible, but it evidently was not possible. Romulus’s voice once more broke the stillness.

“ Well, yer’s merely ’xposed yer ign’rance an’ superstition, jes ez I ’spected yer would! But I’se gwine give yer one mo’ chance, an’ ef yer doan’t improve dis time, w’y, ’t won’ be no hope fer yer ’t all. W’at’s yer haid fer? ”

The dodgers glanced feebly at each other and regretted the evil moment when they had joyously and unsuspectingly gamboled into Goose Alley.

“ Ter r-res’ yer hat on ! ” ventured one politely, his tongue moving thickly in his mouth.

“ Ter hole yer ears on! ” breathed the other.

Once more did Romulus regard them from an incalculable distance,

“ Well, now yer’s completely ’xpose yerselves, an’ dat’s de trufe,” he announced. “ Ter res’ yer hat on! ” he murmured almost sadly. “ An’ ter hole yer ears on! Trufe is, yer’s ser deep down in de abyss o’ ign’rance an’ superstition, I doan’ r’ally think I kin do nuthin’ fer yer’t all.”

They looked both worn and humble.

“ No, I jes natchelly ain’ gwine was’e my time wid yer. I’se too disgusted ter even mek de ’tempt ter ’mprove yer.”

He stepped up to the low door at one side, made primarily for keeping out mosquitoes, wasps, rain, burglars, and so forth, and opened it slowly, while the dodgers suddenly dodged away into the night again and disappeared.

But Romulus’s dreams were peaceful, even joyous that night, in spite of the trials and shocks of the evening. True, he figured largely in them himself, but that, after all, only added to the general effect of peace and joy. He saw himself in a succession of attractive lights — as an actual student at the Institute in a natty blue uniform, as the proud bearer of a diploma, the famous graduate of graduates, the founder of the school of schools, and finally as the general and final emancipator of the whole army of ignorant and superstitious.

In the light of his waking morning thoughts then, it came sweeping down on him with vivid, uncompromising reality that he had seriously neglected his studies of late; that he had n’t even been attending the Whittier School, that, to put it plainly, he was n’t making any preparations whatsoever for the rapidly approaching examinations for the Institute. But, as he arrayed himself for the day in a loose suit of brown corduroy, which a benevolent individual of a previous date had once referred to as a hand-me-down, his ideas were fast focusing themselves around one person who would, he felt certain, prove the anchor and final preserver that he needed in this time of floating misfortune and distress. This person was Miss Augusta Merrill, a Northern woman, to be sure, but one whose chief interest for many years had been this particular institution, or anything that bordered on it in any way. Romulus had bordered on it ever since he had been born into the world in Goose Alley, and Miss Merrill had known him and befriended him and urged him on in the paths of duty and rectitude for many years. She had even, at one period in his career, helped him through the first distracting principles of “ substruction,” and now, in the face of approaching trouble, for which he was ill prepared, Romulus recognized that Miss Merrill was the one above all others to consult.

As he strolled down the alley in the morning sunshine, his eyes dwelling leisurely on bright April flowers, blooming here and there in small, tidy dooryards, it was with a glow of satisfaction that he suddenly recognized Miss Merrill herself, crossing the main road at the end of the alley and moving slowly on toward the school gates. With a long, easy, but quickened stride, he traveled on until he stood beside her.

“ Mawnin’, Miss Mer’l,” he began in a soft, good-natured drawl, and his loppy felt hat came down to his knees with easy grace.

“ Why, good-morning, Romulus!” A sudden gleam of high light seemed to strike out from Miss Merrill’s eyes. She had a sense of humor, if she did occasionally get swamped by the missionary spirit, and the sight of Romulus usually affected her like a spring tonic.

“Mawnin’,” repeated Romulus benignly. “I’se jes fixin’ ter go ’n’ inquire fer yer, Miss Mer’l, an’ ter ax yer does yer reckon yer kin len’ me a li’l’ ’sistance wid my books. Yer see I’se thinkin’ ’bout tekkin’ de ’xaminations fer de Ins’tute time de res’ o’ de chil’ren does, an’ — well, trufe is, Miss Mer’l, I’se studyin’ mos’ all time lately ’bout my people. An’ natchelly, co’se I kin see de only way I kin r’ally help ’em, is ter git my edjercation fus an’ den ’mence ’plyin’ it.”

“ Certainly. I see what you mean,” agreed Miss Merrill. It was a long time since she had heard anything so altogether praiseworthy. “ When would you like to begin, Romulus ? This evening ? ”

“ Yas’m, I doan’ reckon it’s nothin’ ter pervent beginnin’ dis evenin’,” he agreed meditatingly, “ yas’m, ’tain’ r’ally nuth’n’ ter pervent it.”

‘ All right, Romulus, I shall be at the house to help you this evening at eight. Of course, you won’t keep me waiting.”

“ No’m! ” he assured her, smiling and nodding gallantly as she turned to the gates and wound on up the drive to the distant buildings. He watched her leisurely as she went on, and then turned himself and meandered into Goose Alley again, while the gushing April flowers nodded and smiled gallantly, too, and Romulus traveled back to his own door and sat down and looked back at them, meditating while the morning wore on.

But the day had worn on and the flowers had gone to sleep, and Miss Augusta Merrill was traveling down Goose Alley now, toward the same door, while shifting, indistinct figures seemed to be hovering there in the dim light as she came nearer. It was not until she was within a few yards of the shifting figures, however, that she was able to decide on their exact nature, and then she stopped, a prominent but unnoticed observer.

Romulus stood facing the porch where he had sat meditating earlier in the day, and across the porch was a line of boys of assorted sizes. They were all seated, and Romulus was looking down on them from his standing position with a half indulgent, half patronizing expression which did full justice to the future emancipator of ignorance and superstition.

“ Co’se yer kin see fer yerselves,” he was saying in easy but friendly tones, “ it’s gwine do yer mo’ good ter se’ down yere an’ listen at me w’ile I tries ter r’ally teach yer a li’l’ sump’n’ ’bout yer country an’ edjercation an’ helpin’ yer people ’n t’ is ter be dodgin’ ’n’ taggin’ up ’n’ down de alley all de evenin’ ’thout no pu’pose yer could r’ally name ef yer’s ax’.”

There seemed to be no one who felt like disputing this statement openly, but there were suspicious signs of levity up and down the entire line.

“ Well, now de basis o’ de matter is jes ez I said,” broke in Romulus warmly, “ yer ain’ no pu’pose yer could r’ally mention, not nary one uv yer! An’ co’se de natchell consequence o’ dat is yer set up dere an’ ack puffeckly no-count ’n’ triflin’. Well now yer’ll jes be ’blige dis’range yer plans ef yer’s gwine set on dat po’ch, caze de ease stan’s like dis. Ef yer wants ter ’have yerselves an’ learn some sense so’s folks wid manners ’n’ edjercation ain’ ’shame’ ter look at yer w’en dey passes yer on de street, w’y, yer kin keep on settin’ where yer is a li’l’ w’ile longer. But ef yer ain’t, I jes ain’ gwine bother wid yer’t all, an’ yer kin git up right now ’thout stoppin’ fer any argament.”

At this point, the moon slipped up above the horizon and shone down on a row of faces altogether irreproachable and attentive. Miss Augusta Merrill, leaning lightly against a fence, fully appreciative, but still unnoticed, could not find it in her heart to move on another step.

“I’se waitin’,” continued the speaker, pausing suggestively, " fer any leavetakin’s or departin’s.” There was not a movement to be distinguished from any member of the line, and Romulus cleared his throat and began again.

“ Well, ef yer is ’cide’ ter stay, co’se I’se puffeckly willin’ ter len’ yer all de ’sistance I kin todes raisin’ yer out o’ de abyss o’ ign’rance an’ helpin’ yer ter git r’ally stahted on de road ter learnin’.”

There were various sulky, grumbling undertones of response, one of which stood thickly but unmistakably out from the others.

“ I ain’t in no ’byss o’ ign’rance! ”

Romulus, with no rancor of feeling, ingratiatingly changed his tactics.

“ Well, co’se yer ain’t r’ally in de abyss,” he went on magnanimously, “ but yer’s jes a-tippin’ on de ve’y aidge! An’ yit I reckon ’tain’ too late ter ketch yer ’fo’ yer pitch in, too, ef some one only stops an’ tek a li’l’ intres’. Sho! ’T ain’ nu Ih’n’ ter wo’y ’bout, caze ef yer’ll jes set still an’ ’have yerself r’al good, I reckon I kin p’raps ketch yer an’ save yer fum death myself. An’ co’se de fus thing ter do is ter see ef yer kin add up some simple figgers.”

The dissenter, not only alarmed but feebly grateful, appeared to be wondering how this was going to save him from death.

“ Dat is after I’se ax jes a few leadin’ questions on learnin’ in gen’al. Co’se ’tain’ no use thinkin’ yer kin help yer people ef yer ain’t ’quaintcd wid a few leadin’ questions in gen’al. Well, jes ter git yer ’customed ter answerin’ I’se gwine ’mence r’al easy.” His hand rose slowly, pointing up through a long shaft of light.

“ W’at’s dat ser bright an’ shinin’ settin’ up dere yonder in de sky ? ”

There were low, doubtful murmurs, barely audible.

“ De moon.”

“ De moon, did yer say? Well, dat’s pretty good fer de fus’ time,” admitted Romulus gingerly, “ eo’se 1 doan’ ’spec’ much de ve’y fus time. W’at’s de diffunce ’tween de sun an’ de moon ? — W’at’s de diffunce ’tween de sun an’ de moon?” repeated Romulus. “ Well, doan’t set up dere grunt’n ’bout it; answer, w’y doan’t yer ? Say sump’n’ anyway.” And his eyes rested encouragingly on a hopeful-looking countenance just before him.

“ ’T ain’ no diffunce,” returned the favored one, taking him at his word.

Romulus’s eye traveled pessimistically up and down the line.

“ ’T would ’a’ been better ef yer ain’t made any ’tempt ’t all,” he commented briefly. Then his glance fixed itself drearily on the speaker.

“ Co’se I knows yer ain’t never bad no ’xpe’ience ter speak of,” he added, “ but ’side fum all dat, cert’nly looks ter me like it’s gwine git ve’y wea’ysome ter have yer in de class. Ve’y wea’ysome. Trufe is, de only way I kin see tor keep yer is fer yer ter promise right now yer won’t nuver speak aloud ag’in under no sucumstances.”

As he had already been stricken absolutely dumb, the promise was altogether unnecessary.

“ I ain’ gwine ter refer ter w’at yer jes said,” continued Romulus delicately. “ I’se merely now gwine pass it by an’ ’splain ter de class ez a whole w’at is de diffunce ’tween de sun an’ de moon. Fus’ uv all dey ain’t de same an’ dey could n’ be de same caze de sun’s de sun, an’ de moon’s de moon. Secon’, ef anybody should ax yer w’at’s de diffunce ’tween a dawg an’ a chick’n, co’se ’tain’ nobuddy wid sense gwine set up ’n’ say ’tain’ no diffunce, caze fus’ place yer knows by lookin’ at ’em dey is, an’ second place ef yer looks at ’em an’ r’ally thought de dawg wuz a chick’n, w’y, co’se yer’d know af’ thinkin’ ’bout it li’l’ w’ile it r’ally could n’ be, caze it’s alraidy a dawg, an’ same way wid de chick’n, yer’d know praesen’ly co’se it could n’ be a dawg caze it’s alraidy a chick’n. Same way ef anybody should ax yer ter go out an’ call in de da wg, co’se ’t ain’ nobuddy wid edjereation gwine out ’n’ call in de chick’n. Furdermo’ ef dey should ax yer ter go out an’ call in de chick’n, co’se ’t ain’ nobuddy gwine out ’n’ call in de dawg. Caze fus’ place a chick’n only got two laigs an’ a dawg got fo’, an’ ef yer start ter call in de chick’n thinkin’ twuz de dawg, w’y, dat’s gwine mek trouble sho, caze co’se yer’d ’spec’ it ter come in on fo’ laigs an’ natchelly it cyan’t only come in on two. Well, it’s jes same way wid de sun an’ de moon — an’ ez I wuz sayin’, ef yer start ter call in de moon — ez I wuz jes sayin’, it’s jes same way ’tween de sun an’ de moon — an’ co’se nobuddy wid sense or edjercation or manners is gwine set up an’ say ’t ain’ jes same way, caze ’t is, an’ yer need n’ say’t ain’ no diffunce ’tween de sun an’ de moon eaze trufe is, it’s a heap o’ diffunce. Fus’ place — ”

There was something like a smothered choke down there by the low fence, and some one moved quickly forward in to the moonlight.

“ Romulus! ”

He turned, looking abstractedly down on the interrupter.

“ Yas’m, evenin’, evenin’, Miss Mer’l,

I ’se jes ’splainin’ diffun things to ’em, Miss Mer’l. Caze co’se ef I’se goin’ in de Ins’tute ’t would n’ be right not ter start helpin’ ’em, anyway, so dat’s de reason I tole ’em — ”

“ I see, I see, Komulus; but you know you have an engagement with me now.”

“ Yas’m, I ’se comin’, Miss Mer’l. I ’se jes ’splainin’ to ’em ’bout de sun an’ de moon. Co’se dey oughter know it’s some diffunce ’tween de sun an’ de moon, an’ 1 ’se jes ’splainin’ to ’em ’bout de diffunce — fus’ place — ”

“ Yes, but fell them you will explain it next time! Next time, Romulus! ”

She moved up the steps, and the line rose to make way for her and broke, while Romulus, vaguely following her, still went on in exhortation.

“ Furdermo’ de sun shines ’ntirely in de daytime an’ de moon mos’ gen’ally at night — ”

But his dispersing class had ceased to listen, and only long, bright rays, striking down on him as he stood alone, bore out the truth of his final words in vivid, flashing agreement.

When Miss Merrill came out again he was still following her, profusely appreciative of her evening’s services.

As she moved on toward some lighted buildings in the distance, and then turned her head, looking back, a figure stood out alone again on the low porch, stood out for just a moment like a dark silhouette on a bright background. Then it moved slowly and disappeared through the door. She shook her head.

“ Oh, Romulus!” she murmured,

“ are n’t we undertaking almost too much! ”

But the next evening she was there again while figures shifted again in the moonlight and Romulus’s voice went flowing on.

“ Is it the same class, Romulus? The same class that you had last night? ”

“ Yas’m, jes same.”

He knew that he had gathered them in as they gamboled in the alley, anyway, just as he had the night before. Why should n’t it be the same?

She noticed, however, as the evenings went on and the fatal day drew near, that though the shifting figures might increase or decrease, the fact was never commented on, was even apparently unobserved by Romulus. She noticed, too, that occasionally there was no line at all across the steps, that the figures shifted and gamboled in the near distance, both unnoticed and unsought.

On one particular evening she spoke about it as Romulus, half sitting, half lying on the low porch, rose languidly at her approach.

“ Is it because to-morrow is the day for your examinations that you are resting instead of teaching this evening? ”

“ Wha’m yer say, Miss Mer’l? Did yer say ter-morrer ’s de day fer de ’xaminations? No’m, I’se been kine o’ busy ter-day, so I’se jes tekkin’ a li’l’ res’. But ef ter-morrer ’s de day fer de ’xaminations I reckon I’ll be ’blige call ’em in, too.”

Already he was hailing them in tempting, tactful tones, and already they were tumbling gradually towards the porch. As they dropped into a shiftless, grinning line before him he regarded them seriously.

“ Well, now it’s jes like dis,” he began. “ Ter-morrer I’se gwine tek de ’xaminations fer de Ins’tute. Co’se I ain’ mean by dat I’se gwine begin ’n’ pass yer by w’en I meets yer on de street, caze, trufe is, I’se gwine treat yer jes ’bout de same ez I allays is. ’T ain’ r’ally gwine be ’nough ditfunce in de way I speaks fer yer ter wo’y ’bout it’t all. Nudder thing, co’se I kin teach yer all diffun’ kine o’ things w’en I gits in de Ins’tute, an’ nudder thing, ter-morrer evenin’ I’se gwine give yer a li’l’ cel’bration. An’ w’en yer gits yere ter-morrer evenin’ I’se gwine tell yer w’at’t is.”

They had disappeared in the near distance again, and Miss Merrill and her pupil had disappeared into the house. When they finally reappeared, after a long, last evening of labor, they both looked involuntarily away to some lighted buildings.

“ Would you be disappointed if you failed, Romulus? Of course — you know — ”

But Romulus was staring fixedly at the lighted buildings, and hardly seemed to hear. “ Well, good-night. Try not to be disappointed if you fail, Romulus.”

“ Good-night, Miss Mer’l.”

The sun rose with a particularly warm and beneficent glow the next morning, and while the clock hovered around nine, Romulus stood just outside the big stone academic building of the Institute, basking contentedly in the cheerful warmth, while streams of young colored people moved past him and went in.

“ Reckon I’ll go in too,” he meditated. “ ’Tain’ gwine do no good stan’in’ yere.”

In a room with high windows through which the sun shone down with the same cheerful warmth, he was given a seat with perhaps twenty others. At the desk stood a modest little lady who passed out papers, and looked as if she might have just come herself. Romulus regarded her with kindly interest and glanced down at his paper. Then his brow puckered concentratedly as he bent over his desk.

For almost two hours he had worked on with the same puckered brow. Then papers were collected, more were passed out, and for almost another two hours he had worked on again, when slowly his hand rose. The little lady at the desk inclined her head.

“ Will yer read de las’ question ? ” requested Romulus, rising politely from his seat and clearing his throat.

“ The last ? ‘Write a letter to a friend describing the school you have attended during the past year and what you studied there.’ ”

“ Yas’m,” agreed Romulus, regarding his paper, “is it mean like dis?” He cleared his throat again preparatory to a brief, oral resume of his work, but the little lady at the desk proved quite equal to her task.

“ But you will have to wait — for that. You know the others are at work. You will have to wait until after the bell rings.”

“ Yas’m,” agreed Romulus, “ yas’m;” and just here a bell struck sharply.

Gradually all work was handed in. Slowly, one after another, they passed out, the little lady made a neat pile on her desk, when again a voice sounded questioningly in her ears and she looked up to find herself alone with Romulus.

“ Of course I could n’t tell you anything about it,” she explained. “ That would n’t be fair, would it ? ”

“ No’m. But yer see, trouble is I written it ter Miss Mer’l,” he argued doubtfully. “ Jes like dis: —

“ ‘ Miss Mer’l. Dear frien’, — I s’pose yer’ll be glad ter hyeah I ’se settin’ yere tekkin de ’xaminations, an’ fer dat reason I’se glad ter write yer.’ ”

“ Well ? I’m sure it’s entirely right to have wTitten to Miss Merrill,” came the encouraging return, but the little lady was wondering, with inordinate curiosity, how the written work compared with the oral interpretation. “ Entirely right — if you answered the question.”

“ Yas’m,” agreed Romulus, with more assurance. “ Well, I written it ter Miss Mer’l, anyway. Yas’m. I’ll read it ter yer.” And the oral interpretation continued : —

“ ‘ Miss Mer’l. Dear frien’, — I s’pose yer’ll be glad ter hyeah I’se settin’ yere tekkin’ de ’xaminations an’ fer dat reason I ’se glad ter write yer.’ ” He glanced briefly at the little lady, who seemed to be feeling a bit inadequate to circumstances, and continued: “ ‘ Fus’ place I’se been ser busy lately I ain’t had time fer no foolishness, an’ yer knows too, I’se mekkin’ ail p’eparations to uplif’ my people. Well, it’s some kine o’ wuk, ’specially ef yer deal wid de ign’rant. Co’se ef yer tek ’em w’en dey’s edjercated’t would n’ be ser bad, but cert’nly is wea’ysome tryin’ ter uplif’ de ign’rant, ez I knows counten doin’ it myself. At fus’ co’se dey ain’t ser bad twell dey starts inter laf an’ play an’ den I tole ’em ef dey’s gwine stay in de class I could n’ ’low ’em nuver speak ’t all, so now dey’s doin’ pretty good, an’ ter-night I’se gwine give ’em a cel’bration counten gittin’ in de Ins’tute. I ain’t ’ntirely ’cided ’bout it but I reckon it’ll be singin’ wid p’raps peanuts ’n’ prayer. Co’se I cyan’t ’spec’ fer ’em ter set up an’ ’have’s good’s usual at a ’easion like dat, an’ natchelly I’se gwine give ’em mo’ liberties ’n dey’s been ’custom’ to befo’, but I doan’ r’ally reckon it’s gwine do ’em no pumanent ha’m, an’ anyway, after I gits in de Ins’tute, co’se I’ll be ’blige mek ’em wuk all time. W’y, it’s a gen’Ieman over’t de Ins’tute one Sunday, say it’s a po’tion o’ de cull’d folks where’s ser shif’liss ’n’ lazy look like yer cyan’t scacely do nuth’n wid ’em ’t all. Well, af’ I graduates an’ start a school co’se I kin teach ’em better in diffun kine o’ ways. One way is not give ’em nuth’n’t’ eat but p’raps sump’n’ like pieces o’ boa’d or ’casionally a ole hat — an’ nudder way is ter hide dey clo’es w’en dey goes ter baid at night so dey cyan’t have ’em in de mawnin’ twell dey promises dey’ll go ter wuk ’thout no mo’ shif’lissnes — an’ nudder way is make b’leve yer’s gwine move de furniture an’ p’raps set it righ’ down atop uv ’em. An’ co’se edjercation too, caze co’se all de res’ ain’ gwine do de leas’ good lessen yer puts in edjercation too. Dat’s jes w’at I keep on tellin’ ’em in de class, dey kin git new clo’es, a necktie or p’raps a new pair pants, but ’t ain’ gwine do ’em de leas’ good ’thout dey gits edjercation too, so dey might jes ez well keep on wea’in’ dey ole ones. W’y, de gen’leman say he know’d a man once ’thout no laigs or arms. I ain’ nuver ’xpe’ience no sech plaisure’s dat myself, but de stranges’ part uv it wuz, he’s gotten ser much edjercation he could set all day an’ read ’n’ talk an’ nuver miss ’em. So co’se dat’s anudder thing fer edjercation, too, any time yer loses yer laigs an’ arms yer kin set all day an’ read ’n’ talk an’ nuver miss ’em. Yours truly, ROMULUS QUICK.’ ”

The reader folded his paper again and glanced at the modest little lady for approbation. But she was blowing her nose so violently that she was quite unable to frame a sentence immediately.

“ Does yer reckon Miss Mer’l ’ll like it ? ” interrogated Romulus. “ I should think quite — quite likely,” came the somewhat floundering reply: “but — you did n’t really answer the question, after all, did you ? The question, you know, about — about the school you have attended! ”

“ No’m,” agreed Romulus, “I did n’ r’ally git ter dat part uv it. Does yer reckon I kin fine out ter-morrer ef I’se pass ? ”

“I should think so—I certainly should think so! ”

“ Yas’m.” And Romulus passed out, leaving the modest little lady at the desk feeling a bit weak and fragile.

He had wandered around rather aimlessly that afternoon, and now he sat on the low porch and looked away toward the burnished tossing water in the distance, and watched the sun drop lower and finally drown itself in the burnished gold.

“ Reckon I’ll go over ter Miss Hoar’s office,” meditated Romulus, already a little hazy on previous conversations; “Miss Hoar, she’s de r’al headquarters, an’ she ’ll know ef I’se pass;” and slowly he pulled himself up and sauntered away down Goose Alley, while the burning afterglow struck in warm colors on his back.

How Miss Hoar happened to be in her office at just that time Romulus did not ask. He merely stood before her with a loppy felt hat in his hand and a question on his lips.

“ Did you pass ? ” she repeated kindly, glancing over a pile of papers on her desk, which had already been brought in. Then she stopped, selected two or three, and looked back at Romulus standing before her and fingering at his loppy felt hat. Miss Hoar was used to this sort of thing.

“ No, I’m afraid you did n’t.” From her voice Romulus almost had a notion that she had said, “ Yes, I think you did.”

“ You say I — I did n’ ? ” he questioned quickly. “Yas’m. Thank you.” And he turned and went down the stairs again.

As he came out of the building and walked away down the broad walk, the colors from the glowing sky and water struck softly on him again, and his shoulders seemed to drop forward under his worn, loose coat. But he walked steadily on, past the large, homey-looking buildings, down the long, winding road to the gates — and then he turned into Goose Alley again. He noticed, as he came on, that there were figures in the distance, shifting, gamboling aimlessly in the last rays of the sun, and his eyes moved slowly from the ever-shifting figures to the glowing sky until he came to the low porch. Then he sat down, his eyes wandering absently, until the chapel bell at the Institute struck dully on his ears and he pulled himself up again.

“ Reckon I’ll go,” he muttered.

The last notes of a song came rushing out to him as he opened the chapel door, and the assembled company sat down, while Romulus slid in softly and sat down, too. Then a man rose to speak, and again Romulus’s gaze wandered absently, drearily, over the rows and rows of upturned faces, until suddenly it returned and focused itself steadily on the speaker. He had heard him before. He had heard him one Sunday evening when he had talked about — about the ignorance and superstition of his race. He had heard him — His mind stopped short in its wanderings, and slow, distinct words fell unmistakably on his ears.

“ It is n’t so much the amount of education you get,” the voice was saying, “ as what you do with what you do get. Why, I know of a young colored man who has had so little education that you young people here might not have much respect for it. And yet what is he doing? He is teaching a class of the most ignorant boys that he can find, everything that he does know.”

The speaker’s voice dropped gently as he thought of his conscientious, hardworking friend, miles away, and Romulus’s breath came quickly and his eyes caught a slow fire. How should he know — how should that gentleman know that about him ?

“ They meet every evening,” went on the voice, “ and this young man is trying to teach them everything that he knows. Is n’t that sort of thing worth talking about ? Is n’t that young man one of the leaders that we want ? ”

Romulus was leaning away forward, a deep, burning red just showing under his dark skin, his eyes glowing steadily up at the speaker. He had n’t known that it was all going to be about him; he had n’t known —

The speaker sat down, and Romulus sank back gently in his seat, while words that had died in the stillness seemed to come back and echo again, louder and louder, while the long rows of faces still gazed up.

But they were all marching out again, the speaker was slowly descending from the platform, and Romulus, with his breath coming rapidly again, was waiting by the door.

“I — I’d like fer you ter see — de class,” he began unsteadily as the two stood for the moment side by side.

The speaker looked at him, not just comprehending, and then they were gently pushed on with the crowd.

“I’d — like fer you ter see—my class,” repeated Romulus. “I reckon dey mus’ be waitin’ now — on de po’ch.”

The speaker looked up with an acute, suddenly comprehensive expression.

“ Why, surely,” he returned. “ I’d like to see your class.”

They moved on together, the flush just visible under Romulus’s dark skin, the man glancing up at him with a kindly, humorous, penetrating glance. As they came into Goose Alley there seemed to be shifting figures before them, and then, suddenly, the figures seemed to shift from the scene, and Romulus and the speaker were standing before a low porch, across which sat a long, silent, waiting row.

They had remembered the “celebration,” and were ready.

It was a supreme moment for Romulus, and he turned silently toward the speaker. Just for the moment even the art of conversation seemed to have flown. But his eyes came back to the waiting row, and his arm moved out toward it with a flourish that wholly made up for any previous lack.

“ All dese yere where’s settin’ on de po’ch is de class,” he announced. “ I teaches ’em eve’y evenin’.”

The line listened wonderingly while the same voice alternated with the pleased, encouraging one of the speaker, until suddenly they both stopped, and the speaker, with the same kindly, humorous, penetrating glance, looked at Romulus and put his hand on his shoulder.

“ Good-by,” he said. “ I shan’t forget that you’re a leader, one of our leaders! I shan’t forget it! ”

He was moving away down the alley, and silently Romulus’s eyes followed him until he was lost in the shadow. Then they turned back again to the waiting row, and grew mistily soft.

“ Now, fus’ uv all,” he began, just a bit unsteadily, and then he stopped and began again; “fus’ uv all — we’ll begin wid de celebration.”