de 'Pisclopian Church whar I resides, an' 'specs to jine dat one de nex'
anniversary ob de bishop. Oh! dey does eberything so lovely, and in so
much style. I declar' nobody but common folks in de city goes to de
Babtiss Church. It made me sick 't my stomuck to see so much shoutin'
and groanin' dis mornin'; 'tis so ungenteel wid us to make so much
sarcumlocutions in meetin'." And thar she went a-giratin' 'bout de
preacher a-comin' out in a white shirt, and den a-runnin' back and
gittin' on a black one, and de people a-jumpin' up and a-jawin' ob de
preacher outen a book, and a-bowin' ob deir heads, and a-saying long
rigmaroles o' stuff, tell my head fairly buzzed, and were dat mad at de
gal I jes' couldn't see nuffin' in dat room. Well, I jes' waited tell
the kumpny riz to go, and den I steps up, and says I: "Young folks, you
needn't let what Meriky told you 'bout dat church put no change inter
you. She's sorter out ob her right mine now, but de nex' time you comes
she'll be all right on dat and seberal oder subjicks;" and den dey
stared at Meriky mighty hard and goed away.

Well, I jes' walks up to her, and I says: "Darter," says I, "what chu'ch
are dat you say you gwine to jine?" And says she, very prompt like: "De
'Pisclopian, pa." And says I: "Meriky, I'se mighty consarned 'bout you,
kase I knows your mine ain't right, and I shall jes' hab to bring you
roun' de shortest way possible." So I retch me a fine bunch of hick'ries
I done prepared for dat 'casion. And den she jumped up, and says she:
"What make you think I loss my senses?" "Bekase, darter, you done forgot
how to walk and to talk, and dem is sure signs." And wid dat I jes' let
in on her tell I 'stonished her 'siderably. 'Fore I were done wid her
she got ober dem dying a'rs, and jumped as high as a hopper-grass.
Bimeby she 'gins to holler: "Oh, Lordy, daddy! daddy! don't give me no
more."

And says I: "You're improvin', dat's a fac'; done got your natural voice
back. What chu'ch does you 'long to, Meriky?" And says she, a-cryin':
"I don't 'long to none, par."

Well, I gib her anodder leetle tetch, and says I: "What chu'ch does you
'long to, darter?" And says she, all choked like: "I doesn't 'long to
none."

Den I jes' make dem hick'ries ring for 'bout five minutes, and den I
say: "What chu'ch you 'longs to now, Meriky?" And says she, fairly
shoutin': "Baptiss; I'se a deep-water Baptiss." "Berry good," says I.
"You don't 'spect to hab your name tuck offen d