"Oh, ole Clemence kin talk proctah, yass!" She made a gesture for attention.
"D' y' ebber yeh w'at de cya'ge-hoss say w'en 'e see de cyaht-hoss tu'n loose in de sem pawstu'e wid he, an' knowed dat some'ow de cyaht gotteh be haul'?
W'y 'e jiz snawt an' kick up 'is heel'"-- she suited the action to the word--"an' tah' roun' de fiel' an' prance up to de fence an' say: 'Whoopy! shoo! shoo! dis yeh country gittin' _too_ free!'" "Oh," she resumed, as soon as she could be heard, "white folks is werry kine.

Dey wants us to b'lieb we happy--dey _wants to b'lieb_ we is.

W'y, you know, dey 'bleeged to b'lieb it--fo' dey own cyumfut.

'Tis de sem weh wid de preache's; dey buil' we ow own sep'ate meet'n-houses; dey b'liebs us lak it de bess, an' dey _knows_ dey lak it de bess." The laugh at this was mostly her own.

It is not a laughable sight to see the comfortable fractions of Christian communities everywhere striving, with sincere, pious, well-meant, criminal benevolence, to make their poor brethren contented with the ditch.