During all those years of study I taught school every summer. For nine years I was not out of the school room a month in the year. I was either a pupil or a teacher. Wherever I was teaching, I would try to set up a little Fisk University of my own. You know that the school teacher who goes out into these country places is everybody and everything. He is law and gospel, and he must know everything—at least, he must not let people know that he does not know everything. So I was not only school teacher, but I organized a Sunday-school, and preached, also. Especially in Mississippi I did that kind of work, where there was much need of it. This is the way that hundreds of young men have gone through Fisk University and other institutions. We get our education sometimes at great cost, and at great hardships. Sometimes we break down under this constant strain of teaching. Many a time in Mississippi swamps I have waded up to my knees in water going to school, and many a time have I taught lying sick on my back; but the money had to be made. This is the way we get through, and not only the young men but the girls. There are two things which it teaches us: It teaches us how to be men, and it teaches us how to work. We are forced to do it for the money’s sake, and it is not only for the money’s sake, because we are sure that these young men and young ladies go out with a Christian desire to do good, and a young man, whether he is a Christian or not, feels that he must do Christian work when he is teaching in the summer. He is hardly respectable if he does not do that sort of thing during his service as a teacher. In that way the great masses of the people are being reached by Christian students going out among them.