“One thing at a time, Ralph,” said Aunt Inez.  “I’ll read you the letter I was laughing at and then tell you about the blue cards, for they go together.  The letter is from a dear friend who is teaching the colored children in the South.  It tells of her first attempts with them.  I’ll not read it all.  Listen:” 

My Dear Old Friend: I must tell you to-day about my promising pupil, Nan. I am learning patience whether she learns anything or not.  One day I overheard Nan and Lila (the pretty mulatto girl I told you about) talking together about like this: 

“Nan,” said Lila, “do you want to learn to read like white folks?”

“Course I do,” laughed Nan.  “Hi yi, ho yo, but how’s I ever goin’ to?”

“Miss Kitty learn us,” said Lila.  “Heard her tell Miss Lizzy so.  Me and you are going to her room after sun-down, and she’ll learn us a lesson.  I’ve learned right smart now.  Know the a b c, and can spell a heap.  It’s ‘mazin’ good.”

Nan opened her big eyes as Lila went one, than gave a quick toss of her head and said:  “Feels mighty peart and proud like, Lile, over your larnin’.  Reckon some other folks can learn too, if they wants to.”

Nan is not a very quiet pupil.  She has queer remarks to make about each letter as I point it out.  I told her the first letter was A. She made a funny courtesy, and said: 

“Mighty glad to make your ‘quaintance, Massa A. Been wantin’ to know you long time ago.”

“That is B, Nan,” I continued.

“B,” she screamed, “Oh!  I feared of him.  Will he sting?  Done got my eyes all stunged up with them bees once.  Couldn’t see nothin’ for a week.  Fac—­Miss.”

“I don’t like X,” she burst forth, “he’s like Miss Lizzy when I’s done broke sumthin’, so cross.”

* * * * *

In spite of her chattering and her capers, Nan learned all her letters that night.  Teacher and scholar were astonished and delighted at her success.  The next evening, however, showed that Nan could forget as quickly as she learned.

“Nan!  What is that letter?” I asked, pointing to A.

“Dunno, Miss.”

“What is that round letter?”

“Done forgot, Miss Kitty.”

“Well, what is that letter that looks like Miss Lizzy when she’s cross?”

“I disremember.”

And thus it was all through the alphabet.  Nan had forgotten the whole.  She could not be persuaded to try again.

“Laws, Miss Kitty,” she cried.  “I’se done learnt ’em onct.  Does white peoples learn ’em twicet?”

“Yes, Nan,” said I.  “If they forget the first time.”

“Sho,” said she with a queer twist of her black face.  “I’d be ’shamed to learn it twict.  Ef ’twont stay in dis head first time, ’tan’t no good.”

So I concluded to let the alphabet go for awhile and try spelling.

Nan learned this also quickly at first.  After she had learned to spell cat and many other words, I said, “Now, Nan, I’ll teach you to spell ‘Kitty.’”