White folks has one way er prayin', but er nigger kain't pray erlone--no, mam, jess kain't pray erlone." "I thought you were doing pretty well, Lucy." "Yass'm, pretty well, but not nothin' like hit useter be back in ole Vehginny, when 'bout er hunderd niggers git to prayin' all to onct.
Thass whut goin' to fotch the powah on er suffrin' human soul--yes, ma'm!" "Now, Aunt Lucy," said Mary Ellen sagely, "there isn't anything wrong with your soul at all.

You're as good an old thing as ever breathed, I'm sure of that, and the Lord will reward you if he ever does any one, white or black." "Does you think that, honey ?" "Indeed I do." "Well, sometimes I thinks the Lord ain' goin' to fergive me fer all ther devilment I done when I was l'il.

You know, Miss Ma'y Ellen, hit take a life er prayer to wipe out ouah transgresshuns.

Now, how kin I pray, not to say _pray_, out yer, in this yer lan'?
They ain't a chu'ch in a hunderd mile o' yer, so fer's I kin tell, an' they shoh'ly ain't no chu'ch fer cullud folks.

Law me, Miss Ma'y Ellen, they ain't ary nother nigger out yer nowheres, an' you don' know how lonesome I does git! Seems to me like, ef I c'd jess know er sengle nigger, so'st we c'd meet onct in er while, an' so'st we c'd jess kneel down togetheh an' pray comfer'ble like, same's ef 'twus back in ole Vehginny--why, Miss Ma'y Ellen, I'd be the happiest ole 'ooman ever you did see.