"Well, since you ask me, I don't mind a-tellin' you. Yesterday your son insulted me, I won't take no insult from nobody, I am just as good as what you are, even if I hain't got much book larnin'."
With this deliverance, Sibylla felt she had done full justice to the occasion and would have closed the interview abruptly had not the Professor, with a restraining hand, detained her.
"We must get to the bottom of this grievance, Sibylla. I am sure there is some mistake somewhere. What did my son say?"
"Well, if you want to know," replied the irate domestic, 'I'll tell you. He called me a 'servant.' I know I'm only a working girl, but your son nor nobody else ain't got no right to abuse me by callin' me a 'servant'."
"Ah! I see. You object to the term 'servant' being applied to you," said the Professor, comprehendingly. "The word 'servant' is distasteful to you. You feel it is a disgrace to be called a servant. I see! I see!" In a fatherly way, the old man resumed: "In a certain sense we are all servants. The history of human achievements is a record of service. The men and women who have helped the world most were all servants—servants to humanity. The happiest man is he who serves. God calls some men to sow and some to reap; some to work in wood and stone; to sing and speak. Work is honorable in all, regardless of the capacity in which we serve. There is no great difference, after all, between the ordinary laborer and the railroad president; both are servants, and the standard of measurement to be applied to each man is the same. It is not so much a question of station in life as it is the question of efficiency. Best of all, work is education. There is culture that comes without college and university. He who graduates from the college of hard work is as honorable as he who takes a degree at Yale or Harvard; for wisdom can be found in shop and foundry, field and factory, in the kitchen amid pots and kettles, as well as in office and school. The truly educated man is the man who has learned the duty and responsibility of doing something useful, something helpful, something to make this old world of ours better and a happier place in which to live. The word 'servant,' Sibylla, is a beautiful one, rightly understood. The greatest man who ever lived was a servant. All His earthly ministry was filled with worthy deeds. When man pleaded with Him to rest, He answered: 'My Father worketh hitherto, and I work.' When one of Christ's followers desired to express the true nature of his work and office, he called himself a servant. He used a word, 'doulos,' which means, in the Greek language, a slave or a bond-servant. By the word 'doulos' he meant to say that his mission in life was to work, to do good, to serve. This man was a great preacher, but it is possible for any one to become a 'doulos' in so far as he is willing to serve God and his fellowman. You see, Sibylla, the spirit of Christian work and brotherly love is the spirit of 'doulos.' The word has been transformed by service and unselfish devotion to duty. Great men who have blessed the world, and good and noble women who have helped to uplift humanity, have done it through service. It is just as honorable to bake well, and cook well, and to do the humblest daily tasks efficiently, as it is to play well on the piano and talk fluently about the latest books."
At the conclusion of the Professor's little talk on the dignity of labor, a new light shone in Sibylla's eyes and a new thought gripped her soul. The spirit of "doulos" had displaced her antipathy toward the word servant.
"I'll take that butter over to the Professer's home right away," she said, to herself.
Before leaving Sibylla, the Professor quoted from the "Toiling of Felix," by Henry Vandyke:
"Hewing wood and drawing water, splitting stones and cleaving sod, All the dusty ranks of labour, in the regiment of God, March together toward His triumph, do the task His hands prepare; Honest toil is holy service, faithful work is praise and prayer."