Poor little tots!--they can't walk ten or fifteen miles to Sunday-school, now can they, Mr.Yancy ?" "Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!" said Yancy reassuringly.

"Sunday's a day of rest at Scratch Hill.

So are most of the other days of the week, but we all aspire to take just a little mo' rest on Sunday than any other day.

Sometimes we ain't able to, but that's our aim." "Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine ?--the Blount place ?" asked Mrs.Ferris.
"Yes, ma'am, I know it." "I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they shan't be neglected any longer if I can help it--I should feel guilty, quite guilty! Now won't you let your little nephew come?
Perhaps they'll not find it so very terrible, after all." From which Mr.Yancy concluded that when she invaded it, skepticism had rested as a mantle on Scratch Hill.
"Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr.Yancy, and we were hoping to meet you as we came along," supplemented Miss Malroy, and her words of flattery were wafted to him with so sweet a smile that Yancy instantly capitulated.
"I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy," he said.
When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day, Hannibal, in a state of high excitement, met him at the log shed, which served as a barn.
"I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob was away," observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told him, he rested his big hand on the boy's head with a special tenderness.
"There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!" said the boy.

"May I go ?--Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take me ?" "When's this here school going to begin, anyhow ?" "To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob." "She's a quick lady, ain't she?
Well, I expected you'd be hopping around on one leg when you named it to me.