African Americans -- Education -- Juvenile fiction; Sunday school literature
Tom found, however, when he told the incident to the people who were
assembled in Aunt Margaret’s cabin when he came in at night, that it
created quite a sensation. The idea of any one of them being sent
for into the master’s library was a wonder, and Tom found himself a
lion among them. He did not feel the least elated, however. He only
feared, when he came to think of it, that his master’s discovery of his
knowledge would lead to his dismissal, and he had felt as if he was
just beginning to gain the friendship of his fellow-workers which he
so much wished to have. Therefore it was with rather a grave face and
sober step that he walked in the gathering twilight toward the mansion.
Aunt Dinah was standing on the back porch, throwing corn and feed to
the chickens, who, having grown tame from long acquaintance, were
crowding close around her, in order to get each one a full share of the
evening meal.
Tom came up and touched his cap. “Auntie,” said he, “has Mr. Sutherland
finished his supper?”
Now Aunt Dinah was crabbed, and she determined, when she saw him
coming, that she would send him off rather quicker than he came, but
the touched cap and voice of respect went to just the right place in
her heart. “Sure, honey, he’s done supper,” she said. “What did you
want with him?”
“He bade me come up after tea,” replied Tom, “and he said you would
show me the way to the library.” Tom rose higher in Aunt Dinah’s regard
immediately. In her own words, “If marster wanted one of them field
hands in the lib’ry, it meant sumthin’, sure enough.”
Therefore, with a little smoothing touch to her apron, she led the way
through the matted hall, and knocked at one of the doors which opened
from it. “This is the library,” she said, and so left him.
A little girl came and opened the door--a sweet-looking, black-eyed
child of about seven years old--and held it open as he stepped in. Mr.
Sutherland lifted his eyes from a bundle of papers, and seeing who it
was, said, “Ah! here you are. Just sit down a few minutes and I shall
be able to attend to you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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