“I know your tailor, but what’s your college?” inquired this surprising man.
Banneker shook his head.
“At least I was right in that. I surmised individual education. Who taught you to think for yourself?”
“My father.”
“It’s an uncommon name. You’re not a son of Christian Banneker, perhaps?”
“Yes. Did you know him?”
“A mistaken man. Whoring after strange gods. Strange, sterile, and disappointing. But a brave soul, nevertheless. Yes; I knew him well. What did he teach you?”
“He tried to teach me to stand on my own feet and see with my own eyes and think for myself.”
“Ah, yes! With one’s own eyes. So much depends upon whither one turns them. What have you seen in daily journalism?”
“A chance. Possibly a great chance.”