The same summer his mother began to teach him to read. He had often wondered how it would be when the books began to talk, and now all the letters were animals, birds, or anything else he thought of; but soon they began to go together two and two; A stood and leaned against a tree, and called to B, then E came and did the same, but now there were three or four together, and it seemed as if they disagreed,--the further he went the more he forgot what they were. He could remember A the longest, for he liked it the best, it was a little black lamb and was friends with everybody; but soon he forgot A too. The book had no stories, but was simply lessons.
One day his mother came in, and said to him "To-morrow the school begins again, and I shall take you there to the farm." Ovind had heard that the school was a place where little boys played together, and he had nothing to say against it. He was delighted, and ran on before his mother up the hill, full of glee and expectation. They reached the school-house, and a busy hum greeted their ears, like the sound of the water mill at home. He asked what it was. "It is the children reading," she said: then he was pleased, for he had read that way himself before he knew his letters. When he came in there were as many children sitting round the table as he had ever seen at church. Others sat on their dinner tins round the room, and some stood in small groups before a black board. The schoolmaster, an old grey-headed man, sat on a stool by the fire filling his pipe. When Ovind and his mother entered, they all looked up, and the murmur ceased, as if the mill stream were suddenly dammed. The mother said "Good morning," and shook hands with the schoolmaster.
"Here I come with a little boy who will learn to read," said the mother.
"What's the bairn's name?" said the schoolmaster, as he delved in his pouch for the tobacco.
"Ovind," said the mother; "he knows his letters and a few short words."
"Oh! indeed!" said the schoolmaster. "Come here you little white head!"
Ovind went to him, the schoolmaster lifted him on to his knee, and took off his cap. "Here's a nice little lad!" said he, and stroked his hair.
Ovind looked up in his face and smiled.
"Is it me you're laughing at?" and he frowned.
"Yes, that it is," replied Ovind, and laughed aloud. Then the schoolmaster laughed also, and the mother, so the children saw they might join, and they all laughed together.