“Yes, sir,” responded Charley, gravely, “dat’s so.”
“Well, I’m mighty glad er dat,” remarked Uncle Remus, with unction. “It’s ’bout time dat I wuz spectin’ fer ter hear tin you in de chain-gang, an, stidder dat, hit’s de chu’ch. Well, dey ain’t no tellin’ deze days whar a nigger’s gwineter lan’.”
“Yes,” responded Charley, straightening himself up and speaking in a dignified tone, “yes, rm fixin’ to do better. I’m preparin’ fer to shake worldliness. I’m done quit so’shatin’ wid deze w’ite town boys. Dey’ve been a goin’ back on me too rapidly here lately, an’ now I’m a goin’ back on dem.”
“Well, ef you done had de speunce un it, I’m mighty glad. Ef you got lijjun, you better hole on to it ’twell de las’ day in de mornin’. Hit’s mighty good fer ter kyar’ ’roun’ wid you in de day time an’ likewise in de night time. Hit’ll pay you mo’ dan politics, an’ ef you stan’s up like you oughter, hit’ll las’ longer dan a bone-fellum. But you wanter have one er deze yer ole-time grips, an’ you des gotter shet yo’ eyes an’ swing on like wunner deze yer bull-tarrier dogs.”
“Oh, I’m goin’ to stick, Uncle Remus. You kin put your money on dat. Deze town boys can’t play no more tiv dere games on me. I’m fixed. Can’t you lend me a dime, Uncle Remus, to buy me a pie? I’m dat hongry dat my stomach is gittin’ ready to go in mo’nin.”
Uncle Remus eyed Charley curiously a moment, while the latter looked quietly at his timber toe. Finally, the old man sighed and spoke:
“How long is you bin in de chu’ch, son?”
“Mighty near a week,” replied Charley.
“Well, lemme tell you dis, now, ’fo’ you go enny fudder. You ain’t bin in dar long nuff fer ter go ’roun’ takin tip conterbutions. Wait ontwell you gits Sorter seasoned like, an’ den I’ll hunt ’roun’ in my cloze an’ see ef I can’t run out a thrip er two fer you. But don’t you levy taxes too early.”
Charley laughed, and said he would let the old man off if he would treat to a watermelon.