Another time, he was sitting in the parlor with a lady, who had diverted herself a good deal with his precocious wit and intelligence, and had allowed him to play with the rings on her fingers, the bracelets on her wrists, and the pearls that bound her dark tresses, and then to follow her to the piano, and stand close by her side while she played and sang, until suddenly down dropped his head upon his hands, and he burst into a passion of tears. The lady broke off in astonishment, turned around, drew him up to her, took his hands from his face, and looked kindly at him, without saying a word. But the boy dropped upon the floor, and crouching, wept more vehemently than before. The lady stooped and raised his head, and laid it on her lap, and laid her hand soothingly upon his silken curls, but spoke no word. When his passion of tears had passed, and he had sobbed himself into something like composure, he looked up into her face, and said:
"You did not laugh at me, Mrs. Hewitt, and you didn't ask me what I was crying for; but I couldn't help it, because—because I know this good time will go away; and I shall get taller, and then you won't let me stay and hear you talk, and hear you sing, and—and—and—I wish I never could grow any taller. I wish I may die before I grow older."
Ah! poor, fated boy! would indeed, that he had died before he grew taller! before those evil days his childhood's prophet heart foretold!
But they came on apace.
The first trial that he suffered might seem light enough to an outside looker-on, but it was heavy enough to Valentine. When he was eleven years of age, and Oswald nine, Oswald was sent to school, and he remained at home.
Up to this time they had been playmates and companions, faring alike in all respects, and sharing equally all pleasures, even the favors of the visitors.
Now, therefore, Valentine keenly felt the new state of things, which in more than one way deeply grieved his heart; first, in the separation from his friend and playmate whom he dearly loved; and then in the denial of knowledge to his thirsting intellect, for there existed a statute law against educating a slave—a law, too, that was of late very strictly enforced, except in the case of children, who frequently transgressed it, and always with impunity; for slaves are often taught to read and write by their nurslings, the master's children.
Valentine was thus far kin to us all, that he was a lineal descendant of Eve, and inherited all her longing desire for forbidden knowledge. And, in like manner, Oswald had received a goodly portion of that Adamic propensity to do just precisely what he was commanded not to do.
No grief of Valentine could long be hid from Oswald, and it followed, of course, that when he discovered the great trouble of his playmate to be his desire for education, all that Oswald learned at school by day was taught to Valentine at home by night. And peace and good-will was once more restored to the boys.
Thus the time went on till the lads were fourteen and sixteen respectively.