It was to be a building far larger than any of these men had ever seen; but, as one said to the other, Davy had been Outside, so he would know. And David himself, sitting now and again, somewhat wearily, on his bloody cornerstone, looked at this advancement of his labors and was content. Toward evening of the day when they had finished the foundation, Joslin called his band of workmen together. “Friends,” said he, “we have begun. There will be no more feuds in these mountains. This is your school as much as mine—I don’t deserve the credit for it any more than you-all do.” The steady warmth and trust of their friendship came all about his heart now. After all, they were his people. All they ever had needed was a leader and a chance. He now dropped naturally and unconsciously more or less into the vernacular that had been his, swiftly as his own diction had changed in his two years of miraculously hard work. “We hain’t been a part of our own state so far,” said he, “but we’re a-goin’ to be. Now we’ve got to have papers from our state—a charter—afore we kin run our school. We’ll call it the Cumberland Institute, I reckon. Here’s our application fer it. I want each of you men to sign this paper. We’ll be the trustees. Hit’s right we should be, because we started this work all by ourselves, with the help of the Lord. “Absalom,” said he, turning to the old leader of the clan of Gannts, “I want ye to sign yore name right here. I’ve signed it first—I took that liberty. Sign here, Absalom.” The old man stood, his jaws working hard under his dense gray beard. “Davy,” said he gently, “ye know I kain’t read or write.” “I know it,” said Joslin. “I’ve put yore name down fer ye, Absalom. Make yore mark. That’ll stand just the same. There’s fifteen of us here, and we’ll all put our names down. We’ve been plumb forgot, here in the Cumberlands. This will show that we asked our state to accept us and our work.” “You, Chan,” said he, nodding to the next man, “come and sign.” And Chan came and signed as Absalom had signed—making his mark. And the others followed, each taking in his hand the bit of pencil. Of the fifteen of them only three could write their names. And those names, thus written, stand to-day, in reproach to one of the proudest states in the Union. As one of the workmen expressed it, “things sort of begun to drift in, like.” Material arrived, and men to handle it. Women now brought up meals. So strangely animated did the men become that they grudged the time spent even in their eating, nor did the hours of daylight seem long enough for them. Some found that shavings made an excellent bed for the night. They slept sometimes in the shavings for mattress, with their coats for covering.