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"I want something dainty, you know; something coy, and at the same time just a wee bit saucy that might look well for evening wear." Not in the Army, After All A Methodist negro exhorter shouted: "Come up en jine de army ob de Lohd." "Ise done jined," replied one of the congregation. "Whar'd yoh jine?" asked the exhorter. "In de Baptis' Chu'ch."
"'I aims to excuse myse'f to you, sah, says Tom this last time, 'for them misstatements about me leavin' d' Presbyter'ans for d' Mefodis. I does do it for troo, but now I'se gone over, wool an' weskit, to d' Baptis'. An', sah, I feels mighty penitent an' promisin', I does; I'm gwine to make a stick of it dis time.
When they went downstairs together, Mr. Ball was sitting in the parlour, plainly nervous. "Now Ruth," said Aunt Jane, "you can go after the minister. My first choice is Methodis', after that Baptis' and then Presbyterian. I will entertain James durin' your absence." Ruth was longing for fresh air and gladly undertook the delicate mission.
"Yes maam, chile, Ise a Baptis and sho proud ob it. Praise de Lord and go to Church, dat de onliest way to keep de debbil offen youh trail and den sometime he almos kotch up wif you.
“Hillo!” says I, “are you a Papist?” He repudiated the idea with contempt. “Hard-shell Baptis’,” said he. “But, my dear friend, the Papists got some good ideas too; and tha’ ’s one of ’em. You take my advice, and whenever you come across Uma or Fa’avao or Vigours, or any of that crowd, you take a leaf out o’ the priests, and do what I do.
The crowd pressed up closer and stared at him as he stood frozen rigid with embarrassment, his cardboard face still hungry and sardonic, regarding the ominous Jumbo. "You-all bettah speak up!" said Jumbo slowly, "this yeah's a mighty serous mattah. Outside mah duties at this club ah happens to be a sho-nuff minister in the Firs' Cullud Baptis' Church.
He wuz a nice sorter man, I tell yew. He wuz the on'y parson I ever seen ez hed any flesh in his heart for poor folks, 'nless it be some o' them ere Methody an Baptis preachers ez hez come in sence the war, an I callate they ain' reglar parsons nuther.
I s'pose ye hearn it a' ready. I thort so. Ye look ez ef ye hed. But we didn' come tew talk 'baout that. Thar wuz a leetle misunderstandin yisdy 'baout selling aout David. He ain't nothin but a skunk of a Baptis, an ef Iry hed put him in the stocks or licked him 'twould a sarved him right.
"I's Baptis' mys'f, but 'long o' dese Crismus holidays I's right fond of a little toddy." A half dozen eager men made a break for the bar, but Turner's uplifted hand held them. He was an autocrat in his way. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "but I think I remarked some time ago that Mr. Shackelford was my guest." And he called the waiter.
Elder Whitmarsh was at the house and they were all sitting down to dinner as we came in. 'Hello! said Uncle Eb. 'Here's a good-lookin' couple. We've got a chicken pie an' a Baptis' minister fer dinner an' both good. Take yer pew nex' t' the minister, he added as he held the chair for me.
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