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Updated: April 30, 2025
You know I'm a prime cake-maker, bread-maker, an' kin do a whole pahcel uv other things besides; an' dress young ladies for parties, whar I learnt at the ole the-etter, which they built it after the fust one burnt up and all dem people whar dey got the Monnymental Chutch over um now; an' any kind of hair-dress-in', curlin' wid irons or quince juice, an' so fothe. No, don't you bother 'bout me."
Before leaving her she gave her a half-dollar to put in the plate, and asked a solemn-looking usher to show her a good seat. When the old woman returned she was interested, but critical. "I'se been used to chutch all my life," she declared, "but I never saw no fixin's like dat. Br'er George Wash'n'ton Thomas of Mount Zion was de fancies' one I ever seen; but he could n't tetch dat man.
Timothee's Chutch," while Carl pounded the table in his delight at seeing old Ray, the broad-shouldered, the lady-killer, the capable business man, drop his eyes and yearn.
"Well, how did you come out to-dayf" she asked her on her return. "Right well. Dey did n't stick me quite so fur back, and when I drap de dollar in dey wuz several on 'em lookin', and when de chutch was over dey come runnin' arter me, an', tell me ef I come next time dey 'll have a good seat for me. I 'm gwine agin, but fust thing dey know I 'm gwine to fool 'em.
To be sure, it was an experience which the other mammies, as "good membahs of de chutch," regarded as unholy; one which they congratulated themselves would never lie on their consciences, and of which poor Mammy was to die unshriven in their minds; for she never became a "sister," so far as I ever learned. But to us this experience was fruitful of many happy hours.
To which Aunt M'riar as a sort of Greek chorus added: "There, Davy, now, you be a good boy, and tell how old Mrs. Marrowbone is." Dave considered. "She's not the soyme oyge," said he. "She can walk to chutch and back, Sunday morning." But this was a judgment from physical vigour, possibly a fallible guide. Dave, being prompted, attempted description. Old Mrs.
"The knight of Beaumanoir," so ran the testimony, "has more learning than any clerk. In Spain he learned the tongues of the heathen, and in Paris he read deep in their philosophy. Withal he is a devout son of Holy Chutch." The boy blushed at the praise and the King's kindly regard. But St.
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