“I can’t read well enough,” said Julius, drawing back reluctantly.
“That is just what I want to find out,” said Mr. Taylor. “Don’t be bashful. If you can’t read well, you shall have a chance to improve.”
“Are you going to read me a story, Julius?” asked little Carrie, delighted.
“I’ll try,” said Julius, embarrassed.
He began to read, but it soon became evident that he had not exaggerated his ignorance. He hesitated and stumbled, miscalled easy words, and made very slow progress, so that Carrie, who had been listening attentively, without getting much idea of the story, said, discontentedly, “Why, how funny you read, Julius! I like better to hear papa read.”{100}
“I knew I couldn’t do it,” said Julius, disconcerted, as he laid down the book.
“You will soon be able to,” said Mr. Taylor, encouragingly. “Now I will tell you what I propose to do. In the forenoon, up to dinner time, you shall work on the farm, and in the afternoon I will assign you lessons to be recited in the evening. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” said Julius. “I don’t want to be a know-nothin’ when I get to be a man.”
It is hardly necessary to explain that in using the term “know-nothing” Julius had no thought of its political meaning.
“But I’m afraid I won’t learn very fast,” he said hesitatingly.