“Yes, sir, all the prayers. I know them all,” I said proudly.

“How about reading?” he asked. I read him a piece from a newspaper fairly well.

“And writing, John? Yes, I know you learned to write and spell. Your letters to me were very good. How’s your arithmetic, John? How many are eight times nine, John?”

I was stuck. I hesitated and blushed. He saw my confusion and gave me an easier one. “Seven times six, John?”

I was stuck again and got more confused. “Start at the beginning, John, maybe you can get it that way.”

I started at seven times one, got as far as seven times four, and fell down. This was torture. I think he saw it, too, for he said, “Oh, well, John, that will come to you later. Don’t worry about it; just keep on trying.”