"Why, purty nigh eve'ybody, suh," remarked the Rev. Jeremiah, smacking his lips. "What white folks say in de parlour, you kin allers hear in de kitchen." After firing this homely truth at Gabriel, the Rev. Jeremiah went to work with his broom and made a great pretence of sweeping and moving the benches about. The lad followed him in, and looked about him with interest. It was the first time he had revisited the old school-house since he was a boy of ten, and he was pleased to find that there had been few changes. The desk at which he had sat was intact. His initials, rudely carved, stared him in the face, and there, too, was the hole he had cut in the seat. He remembered that this was a dungeon in which he had imprisoned many a fly. These mute evidences of his idleness seemed to be as solid as the hills. Between those times and the present, the wild and furious perspective of war lay spread out, and Gabriel could imagine that the idler who had hacked the desk belonged to another generation altogether. He went to the blackboard, found a piece of chalk, and wrote in a large, bold hand: "Rev. Jeremiah Tomlin will lecture here to-night, beginning at early candle-light." The Rev. Jeremiah, witnessing the performance, had his curiosity aroused: "What is de word you uv writ, suh?" he inquired, and when Gabriel had read it off, the negro exclaimed, "Well, suh! You put all dat down, an' it didn't take you no time; no, suh, not no time. But I might uv speckted it, bekase I hear lots er talk about how smart you is on all sides--dey all sesso." "Does Tasma Tid belong to your church?" Gabriel inquired with a most innocent air. "Do which, suh?" exclaimed Rev. Jeremiah, pausing with his broom suspended in the air. When Gabriel repeated his inquiry, the Rev. Jeremiah drew a deep breath, his nostrils dilated, and he seemed to grow several inches taller. "No, suh, she do not; no, suh, she do not belong ter my chu'ch. You kin look at her, suh, an' see de mark er de Ol' Boy on her. She got de hoodoo eye, suh; an' de blue gums dat go long wid it, an' ef she wuz ter jine my chu'ch, she'd be de only member." It was very clear to Gabriel that nothing was to be gained by remaining, so he bade the Rev. Jeremiah good-bye, and went toward Shady Dale. When he was well out of sight, the negro approached the blackboard, and, with the most patient curiosity, examined the inscription or announcement that Gabriel had written. With his forefinger, he traced over the lines, as if in that way he might absorb the knowledge that was behind the writing. Then, stepping back a few paces, he viewed the writing critically. Finally he shook his head doubtfully, exclaiming aloud: "Dat's whar dey'll git us--yes, suh, dat's whar dey sho' will git us."