"Yes, I does know all 'bout it," said he, earnestly, and he came to her where she stood by a rosebush. "Does you see dis white rose?"
"Yes," said Zell, "it opened this morning. I've been watching it."
Poor Hannibal could not read print, but he seemed to understand this exquisite passage in nature's open book, for he put his black finger on the rose (which made it look whiter than before), and commenced expounding it as a preacher might his text. "Now look at it sharp, Miss Zell, 'cause it'll show you I does know all 'bout it. It's white, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Zell, eagerly, for Hannibal held the attention of his audience.
"Dat means pure, doesn't it?" continued he.
"Yes," said Zell, looking sadly down.
"And it's sweet, isn't it? Now dat means lub."
And Zell looked hopefully up.
"And now, dear chile," said he, giving her a little impressive nudge, "see whar de white rose come from—right up out of de brack, ugly ground."
Having concluded his argument and made his point, the simple orator began his application, and Zell was leaning toward him in her interest.