One morning, while Miss Ophelia was busy, as usual, she heard Mr. St. Clare calling her from the foot of the stairs.  
'Come down here, cousin. I have something to show you.'
 
'What is it?' said Miss Ophelia, coming down with her sewing in her hand.
 
'I have bought something for you. See here,' he said, pulling forward a little negro girl of about eight or nine years old.
 
She was quite black. Her round, shining eyes glittered like glass beads. Her wooly hair was plaited into little tails which stuck out in all directions. Her clothes were dirty and ragged. Miss Ophelia thought she had never seen such a dreadful little girl in all her life.
 
'Cousin, what in the world have you brought that thing here for?' she asked, in dismay.
 
'For you to teach, to be sure, and train in the way she should go,' said Mr. St. Clare, laughing. 'Topsy,' he went on, 'this is your new mistress. See, now, that you behave yourself.'
 
'Yes, mas'r,' said Topsy gravely, but her eyes had a wicked twinkle in them.
 
'You're going to be good, Topsy, you understand?' said Mr. St. Clare.
 
'Oh yes, mas'r' said Topsy again, meekly folding her hands, but with another twinkle in her eyes.
 
'Now cousin, what is this for? Your house is full of these little plagues as it is. I get up in the morning and find one asleep behind the door; see one black head poking out from under the table; another lying on the mat. They tumble over the kitchen floor, so that a body can't put their foot down without treading on them. What on earth did you want to bring this one for?'
 
'For you to teach, didn't I tell you?'
 
'I don't want her, I'm sure. I have more to do with them now than I want.'
 
'Well the fact is, cousin,' said Mr. St. Clare, drawing her aside, 'she belonged to some people who were dreadfully cruel and beat her. I couldn't bear to hear her screaming every day, so I bought her. I will give her to you. Do try and make something of her.'
 
'Well, I'll do what I can,' said Miss Ophelia. 'She is fearfully dirty, and half naked.'
 
'Well, take her downstairs, and tell somebody to clean her up, and give her some decent clothes.'
 
Getting Topsy clean was a very long business. But at last it was done.
 
Then, sitting down before her, Miss Ophelia began to question her.
 
'How old are you, Topsy?'
 
'Dunno, missis,' said she, grinning like an ugly little black doll.
 
'Don't know how old you are! Did nobody ever tell you? Who was your mother?'
 
'Never had none,' said Topsy, with another grin.
 
'Never had any mother! What do you mean? Where were you born?'
 
'Never was born.'
 
'You mustn't answer me like that, child,' said Miss Ophelia sternly. 'I am not playing with you. Tell me where you were born, and who your father and mother were.'
 
'Never was born,' said Topsy again very decidedly. 'Never had no father, nor mother, nor nothin!'
 
Miss Ophelia hardly knew what to make of her. 'How long have you lived with your master and mistress, then?' she asked.
 
'Dunno, missis.'
 
'Is it a year, or more, or less?'
 
'Dunno, missis.'
 
'Have you ever heard anything about God, Topsy?' asked Miss Ophelia next.
 
Topsy looked puzzled, but kept on grinning.
 
'Do you know who made you?'
 
'Nobody as I knows on,' replied Topsy, with a laugh. 'Spect I grow'd. Don't think nobody ever made me.'
 
'Do you know how to sew?' asked Miss Ophelia, quite shocked.
 
'No, missis.'
 
'What can you do? What did you do for your master and mistress?'
 
'Fetch water, and wash dishes, and clean knives, and wait on folks.'
 
'Well, now, Topsy, I'm going to show you just how my bed is to be made. I am very particular about my bed. You must learn exactly how to do it.'
 
'Yes, missis,' said Topsy, with a deep sigh and a face of woeful earnestness.
 
'Now, Topsy, look here. This is the hem of the sheet. This is the right side of the sheet. This is the wrong. Will you remember?'
 
'Yes, missis,' said Topsy with another sigh.
 
'Well, now, the under-sheet you must bring over the bolster—so, and tuck it right down under the mattress nice and smooth—so. Do you see?'
 
'Yes, missis.'
 
'But the upper sheet,' said Miss Ophelia, 'must be brought down in this way, and tucked under, firm and smooth, at the foot—so, the narrow hem at the foot.'
 
'Yes, missis,' said Topsy as before. But while Miss Ophelia was bending over the bed she had quickly seized a pair of gloves and a ribbon, which were lying on the dressing-table, and slipped them up her sleeves. When Miss Ophelia looked up again, the naughty little girl was standing with meekly-folded hand as before.
 
'Now, Topsy, let me see you do this,' said Miss Ophelia, pulling the clothes off again and seating herself.
 
Topsy, looking very earnest, did it all just as she had been shown. She did it so quickly and well that Miss Ophelia was very pleased. But, alas! as she was finishing, an end of ribbon came dangling out of her sleeve.
 
'What is this?' said Miss Ophelia, seizing it. 'You naughty, wicked child—you have been stealing this.'
 
The ribbon was pulled out of Topsy's own sleeve. Yet she did not seem a bit ashamed. She only looked at it with an air of surprise and innocence.
 
'Why, that's Miss Feely's ribbon, an't it? How could it a got into my sleeve?'
 
'Topsy, you naughty girl, don't tell me a lie. You stole that ribbon,'
 
'Missis, I declare I didn't. Never seed it till dis blessed minnit.'
 
'Topsy,' said Miss Ophelia, 'don't you know it is wicked to tell lies?'
 
'I never tells no lies, Miss Feely,' said Topsy. 'It's jist the truth I've been, tellin' now. It an't nothin' else.'
&n............