son insulted me, I won't take no insult from nobody, I am just as good
as what you are, even if I hain't got much book larnin'."

With this deliverance, Sibylla felt she had done full justice to the
occasion and would have closed the interview abruptly had not the
Professor, with a restraining hand, detained her.

"We must get to the bottom of this grievance, Sibylla. I am sure there
is some mistake somewhere. What did my son say?"

"Well, if you want to know," replied the irate domestic, 'I'll tell
you. He called me a 'servant.' I know I'm only a working girl, but
your son nor nobody else ain't got no right to abuse me by callin' me
a 'servant'."

"Ah! I see. You object to the term 'servant' being applied to you,"
said the Professor, comprehendingly. "The word 'servant' is
distasteful to you. You feel it is a disgrace to be called a servant.
I see! I see!" In a fatherly way, the old man resumed: "In a certain
sense we are all servants. The history of human achievements is a
record of service. The men and women who have helped the world most
were all servants--servants to humanity. The happiest man is he who
serves. God calls some men to sow and some to reap; some to work in
wood and stone; to sing and speak. Work is honorable in all,
regardless of the capacity in which we serve. There is no great
difference, after all, between the ordinary laborer and the railroad
president; both are servants, and the standard of measurement to be
applied to each man is the same. It is not so much a question of
station in life as it is the question of efficiency. Best of all, work
is education. There is culture that comes without college and