had given me a strange feeling. "Where do they go to church,
Preston!"

"Nowhere, I reckon."

I was shocked, and Preston was impatient. How should he know, he said;
he did not live at Magnolia. And he carried me off. We went back to
the avenue and slowly bent our steps again towards the house; slowly,
for I was tired, and we both, I think, were busy with our thoughts.
Presently I saw a man, a negro, come into the avenue a little before
us with a bundle of tools on his back. He went as slowly as we, with
an indescribable, purposeless gait. His figure had the same look too,
from his lop-sided old white hat to every fold of his clothing, which
seemed to hang about him just as it would as lieve be off as on. I
begged Preston to hail him and ask him the question about church
going, which sorely troubled me. Preston was unwilling and resisted.

"What do you want me to do that for, Daisy?"

"Because Aunt Gary told Miss Pinshon that we have to drive six miles
to go to church. Do ask him where they go!"

"They don't go _anywhere_, Daisy," said Preston, impatiently; "they
don't care a straw about it, either. All the church they care about is
when they get together in somebody's house and make a great muss."

"Make a muss!" said I.

"Yes; a regular muss; shouting and crying and having what they call a
good time. That's what some of them do; but I'll wager if I were to
ask him about going to church, this fellow here would not know what I
mean."

This did by no means quiet me. I insisted that Preston should stop the
man; and at last he did. The fellow turned and came back towards us,
ducking his old white hat. His face was just like the rest of him; there
was no expression in it but an expression of limp submissiveness.

"Sambo, your mistress wants to speak to you."

"Yes, massa. I's George, massa."

"George," said I, "I want to know where you go to church?"

"Yes, missis. What missis want to know?"

"Where do you and all the rest go to church?"

"Reckon don't go nowhar, missis."

"Don't you ever go to church?"

"Church for white folks, missis; bery far; long ways to ride."

"But you and the rest of the people--don't you go anywhere to church?
to hear preaching?"

"Reckon not, missis. De preachin's don't come dis way, likely."

"Can you read the Bible, George?"

"Dunno read, missis. Never had no larnin'."

"Then don't you know anything about what is in the Bible? don't you
know about Jesus?"

"Reckon don