“An’ the nex’ Chile swaller it an’ he jerk it back up,” continued Billy serenely, “an’ the nex’ Chile swaller it an’ he jerk it back up tell finely ev’y single one of ’em, plumb down to the baby, swaller that pill an’ the las’ one of ’em got well an’ that one pill it done the work.  Then he tuck the pill and give it to his ole ‘oman an’ she swaller it an’ he jerk it back up but didn’t nothin’ ‘tall come up but jest the string an’ his ole ’oman she died ’cause all the strenk done gone outer that pill.”

Miss Minerva opened a book called “Gems for the Household,” which she had purchased from a silvertongued book-agent.  She selected an article the subject of which was “The Pure in Heart.”

Billy listened with a seemingly attentive ear to the choice flow of words, but in reality his little brain was busy with its own thoughts.  The article closed with the suggestion that if one were innocent and pure he would have a dreamless sleep

   “If you have a conscience clear,
    And God’s commands you keep;
    If your heart is good and pure,
    You will have a perfect sleep.”

Billy’s aunt concluded.  Wishing to know if he had understood what she had just read she asked: 

“What people sleep the soundest?”

“Niggers,” was his prompt reply, as he thought of the long summer days and the colored folk on the plantation.

She was disappointed, but not discouraged.

“Now, William,” she admonished, “I’m going to read you another piece, and I want you to tell me about it, when I get through.  Pay strict attention.”

“Yas ’m,” he readily agreed.

She chose an article describing the keen sense of smell in animals.  Miss Minerva was not an entertaining reader and the words were long and fairly incomprehensible to the little boy sitting patiently at her side.

Again his thoughts wandered, though every now and then he caught a word or two.

“What animals have the keenest sense of smell, William?” was her query at the conclusion of her reading.

“Billy goats,” was Billy’s answer without the slightest hesitation.

“You have goats on the brain,” she said in anger.  “I did not read one word about billy goats.”

“Well, if ‘taint a billy goat,” he replied, “I do’ know what ’tis ’thout it’s a skunk.”

“I bought you a little primer this morning,” she remarked after a short silence, “and I want you to say a lesson every day.”

“I already knows a lot,” he boasted.  “Tabernicle, he ‘an’ Mercantile both been to school an’ they learnt me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln.  I knows crooked S, an’ broken back K, an’ curly tail Q, an’ roun’ O, an’ I can spell c-a-t cat, an’ d-o-g dog an’ A stands fer apple.”

That night he concluded his ever lengthy prayer at his kinswoman’s knee with: 

“O Lord, please make for Aunt Minerva a little baby, make her two of ’em.  O Lord, if you got ’em to spare please make her three little babies an’ let ’em all be girls so’s she can learn ’em how to churn an’ sew.  An’ bless Aunt Minerva and Major Minerva, f’r ever ’nd ever.  Amen.”