“What did he mean?” asked Iola.

“That he did not see it,” replied the doctor.  “Of course, this does not apply to all of them.  Some of them are wide-awake and sharp as steel traps.  I think some of that class may be used in helping others.”

“I should be very glad to have an opportunity to teach,” said Iola.  “I used to be a great favorite among the colored children on my father’s plantation.”

In a few days after this conversation the hospital was closed.  The sick and convalescent were removed, and Iola obtained a position as a teacher.  Very soon Iola realized that while she was heartily appreciated by the freedmen, she was an object of suspicion and dislike to their former owners.  The North had conquered by the supremacy of the sword, and the South had bowed to the inevitable.  But here was a new army that had come with an invasion of ideas, that had come to supplant ignorance with knowledge, and it was natural that its members should be unwelcome to those who had made it a crime to teach their slaves to read the name of the ever blessed Christ.  But Iola had found her work, and the freed men their friend.

When Iola opened her school she took pains to get acquainted with the parents of the children, and she gained their confidence and co-operation.  Her face was a passport to their hearts.  Ignorant of books, human faces were the scrolls from which they had been reading for ages.  They had been the sunshine and shadow of their lives.

Iola had found a school-room in the basement of a colored church, where the doors were willingly opened to her.  Her pupils came from miles around, ready and anxious to get some “book larnin’.”  Some of the old folks were eager to learn, and it was touching to see the eyes which had grown dim under the shadows of slavery, donning spectacles and trying to make out the words.  As Iola had nearly all of her life been accustomed to colored children she had no physical repulsions to overcome, no prejudices to conquer in dealing with parents and children.  In their simple childish fashion they would bring her fruits and flowers, and gladden her lonely heart with little tokens of affection.

One day a gentleman came to the school and wished to address the children.  Iola suspended the regular order of the school, and the gentleman essayed to talk to them on the achievements of the white race, such as building steamboats and carrying on business.  Finally, he asked how they did it?

“They’ve got money,” chorused the children.

“But how did they get it?”

“They took it from us,” chimed the youngsters.  Iola smiled, and the gentleman was nonplussed; but he could not deny that one of the powers of knowledge is the power of the strong to oppress the weak.