"No chance whuteber fur er mistake in dis yere matter?" "None at all." "Uh, huh. So dis yere is de J dat I'se hearn so much erbout. An' yere's er nuder one. I tell you dis yere book couldn' git er long widout de J. Whut's dis yere one?" "That is an S," Potter replied. "Is you sho it is er S?" "Yes." "Wall, wall; so yere's de S dat's been er dodgen me fur sich er long time; but I got him now." "Here is an L," said Potter. "I doan kere nothin' 'bout dat," Alf said, closing the book. "I wouldn' git outen de way ef I wuz ter meet er L in de road. De J an' de S wuz whut I was airter." "Do you not want to know the other letters?" "No, sah; I dun got ernuff. Airter wile, ef de J an S wars out, I mout call fur some more, but I'se fixed ez long ez da lasts. Jule, wouldn' you like ter know er bout de J?" "I knows 'em all," the girl replied. "Take ere; take ere. I neber did see so much edycation; man kaint step round yere widout trampin' on it." "These cool days, when we have no important work to perform," said Potter, "can be well spent." "Mine shall be," John responded. "How long will it be, you reckon, before I ken stop this sort uv splashin' with these books, an' jump right in an' swim." "Not a great while. You must lay the worm rail, you know, before you can build the fence. In truth, you learn more rapidly than anyone else I ever knew; and sometimes, while watching your progress, I can not help but look back with pity upon the snail-like movements of my early efforts." "Oh, dar ain't no question 'bout dat boy l'arnin'," Alf exclaimed. "Er boy dat l'arned ter break er colt ez easy ez he did one time, ain't gwine ter hab much trouble wid dis S an' J bizness. Whut, er boy dat ken slip down outen er tree widout er quick-eyed pant'er seein' him, ain't got sly mubement ernuff ter ketch deze yere books er nappin'? Doan know dat chile yit; doan know him." One afternoon while Potter and John were at their books, and while Alf was playing on his fiddle a sort of accompaniment to a doleful tune hummed by his daughter, there came a tapping on the facing of the open door. "Come in," Potter called. A woman and a girl stepped into the room. John and Potter sprang up with the quick impulse of courtesy's sudden demand, and offered them seats. Alf put down his fiddle, and bowing, gave the visitors a grinning welcome. "Where are your women folks?" the elder visitor inquired. "We have none, madam," Potter replied, "except this girl, the daughter of this old----" "Servant o' the Lawd," Alf interjected. "This servant of the Lord," Potter smilingly repeated, "who assists us in tending our crop, and who is----" "Erbout de bes' cook in dis yere neighborhood," Alf again broke in.