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“Mist’ Cheerman,”–a grizzled negro in decent black held up a finger,–“Mist’ Cheerman, was hit Sist’ Humphreys keep dis ‘ouse dis away?”

“Yes, Bruddah Moore; she are a right good scrubber,” admitted the chairman, while the congregation stared at the speaker, the richest colored man in the county, who had moved into the neighborhood recently, this being his first appearance in Zion.

“Fo’ a spell,” continued the chairman, “t’ings went on suspiciously enough. Sist’ Humphreys be’n an edicated lady; an’ she is a plumb good cook. Her preachin’ didn’t be’n whut we-all air longin’ to heah; nare shakin’ of de soul ovah de mouf of hell, nare mo’nin’, nare revivals; but we hilt our peace, an’ Zion attendid regular, an’ las’ socherable gatherin’ there be’n nigh a hunderd, big an’ little, presint–“

“And she gave us all cake and candy and lemonade with ice in it!” a woman’s mellow voice called out.

The heads of the congregation went round in the direction of the voice, and a large number of rolling black eyes stared at the school-teacher, whose comely brown face showed that deepening of tint which is the same as an Anglo-Saxon’s blush. “Teacher” had been educated at Tuskegee and was suspected of being “biggity.”

The chairman gave her a gloomy nod. “No doubt, my sistah, no doubt hankerin’ ayfter de flesh-pots of Egypt done fotch some po’ sinnahs t’ de altar. I ain’t complainin’ of de carnil an’ carniferous food she done give us, but of de spitichul nu’ishment. I nev’ did see a mo’ner rollin’ on dis flo’ w’ilst Sist Humphreys be’n yere. We-all be’n thirstin’ an’ famishin’ fo’ a good ol’-time revival. But we enjured ontwel one day de glory come on Br’er Pope, an’ he hollered,–tryin’ to lif’ us all up,–Amen! Amen! Let de sinner quit sinnin’ an’ he shill be saved!’ An’ dat ar woman she call out: ‘Yes; let‘im quit sinnin’! Let ‘im quit sellin’ of aigs to de sto’ w’en he don’t be keepin’ only one hen!’ Dat ar remark incinerated false an’ wicked notions ’bout Unc’ Alick Pope, who lives nigh de cunnel’s chicken-yard.” (A solitary giggle from the shoolmistress.) “She done fa’ly r’ar an’ charge ’bout chicken-stealin’. Dat ain’t promote edderfication nor good feelin’.” (Groans of assent from a deeply interested audience.) “But nex’ Sabbath come wuss. She done announce she be’n ‘lowin’ to preach us a serious discourse on de Ten Commandmints. Well, we-all done look dem commandmints up an’ study on dem a heap. We felt tol’able secure on de Fust an’ Second, she lumpin’ dem togedder fo’ one out at preachin’; an’ we sat back easy, hopin’ fo’ grace an’ true religion; but she jes slued roun’ on to conjure-cha’ms an’ such, invagin’ ag’in’ dem twell we got all de devotional feelin’ plumb squoze outen us. Third Commandmint we natchelly didn’t expec’ no harm of; but ayfter de fust godly words ’bout profane sw’arin’, ef she didn’t git on to false sw’arin’ befo’ the gran’ jury, ’bout crap-shootin’, en git us all terrible oncomfortable. Nex’ command she didn’t be’n sound on, sayin’ a heap ’bout washin’ up in tubs Sattiddy nights, an’ tew little ’bout de spitichul ovservation of the holy day; an’ come down hard on a respectid brother who sayd once, ‘I isn’t to wash in winter’; an’ sayd bad wuds ’bout sisters dat went visitin’ Sattiddy evenin’s, stidder washin’ up ready fo’ de holy day; sayd some sisters nev’ did wash de po’ little tricks’ shirts, jes’ taken a new flour-sack an’ cut holes in it. She talked like dat ontwel it be’n right ondecent and onchristian; an’ one sister dat’s subjec’ to fits providenchelly done t’rowed one an’ bruk up de meetin’. But we-all sorter done spunk up on de Fif’ Commandmint; looked lak hit be’n sho’ harmliss; an’ we done fotch de chillen to learn deir juty to deir parents. Well, dey sho’ got it! But den she done scorched de parents mightily ’bout de ‘zample dey be’n bleeged to set de chillen. Dat ar be’n a fearful, sufferin’ hour, an’ I nev’ did see dis yere congregation so dry an’ havin’ to git out de pump so often. Dey went by whole famblies; an’ befo’ she be’n frow mighty nigh ever’ las’ chil’ b’en taken outside. We didn’t dast let ’em see frow it.” (Groans all over the house.) “She nigh bust de chu’ch on de Sixth Commandmint wid outrageous rema’ks on razors. An’ nex’ Sunday comes de Seventh Commandmint, an’ we ain’t nowise willin to enjure her handlin’ of dat, nohow.” (Deep groans of assent from brothers and sisters alike.) “Nor de Eight’, neider.” (“No, no !” from the seat of Uncle Alexander Pope.) “Wust is, de ongodly outside, de Methodists an’ de cullud folks from de Ridge, is fixin’ to come over an’ see we-all ripped up. De chu’ch house be’n plumb full ever’ Sabbath, an’ we-all don’ dast stay ‘way, not knowin’ what scandillous stories will be circulated.” (“Dat’s so!” “Holp, Lord!” from earnest souls in the audience.) “An’ de chu’ch is losin’ of members. Bruddah Dan Williams done moved away.” (“No, sah, no, he ain’t; he b’en sent to de pen!”) “I didn’t say how come he moved, Brudder Carroll; he are gone. Unc’ Jim Hollis done ‘bandon his crop. Aunt Caledonia Ray lef’ las’ week ‘count of injur’us reflections ’bout a mince pie she done mix up by mistake wid de week’s wash she taken fum de big house. We done pled wid Sist’ Humphreys to quit; but she won’t quit. Now de question am: How shill we git saved f’om Sist’ Humphreys an’ git a preacher will preach religion– an’ nuffin else ?”