A. “I nebbuh chaa’g’um nutt’n’, suh.”
Q. “Well, what did Cudjo do?”
A. “B’Cudjo is a berry nomannus nigguh, suh. Him is de class-leaduh een my chu’ch, en w’en eeduhso de preachuh on de sukkus, elsehow de locus preechuh, onable to filfill de pulpit, den B’Cudjo does hol’ saa’bis een de chu’ch, en’ w’en B’Cudjo done resplain de Lawd’ wu’d, ’e berry lub fuh talk sweetmout’ talk to all ’e freemale sistuh een de chu’ch, en’ eb’ry time ’e meet me een de road ’e baig me fuh kiss’um, en’ I yent wantuh kiss no shishuh oagly, twis’mout’ nigguh lukkuh B’Cudjo, en’ I tell’um so, en’ den ’e does cuss at me berry nomannusubble, en’ de las’ time I meet’um een de paat’, ’e quizzit me berry rappit, en’ I tell’um ‘go’way, B’Cudjo, bekasew’y I ent wantuh yeddy no shishuh cumposhashun’, en’ yet B’Cudjo keep on peruse ’long de paat’, en’ ’e keep on ax’me shish squeschun, en’ fus’ t’ing I know ’e cuss me a berry bad cuss.”
Q. “What did he curse you?”
A. “’E tell me dat my mout’ does wide same lukkuh Ashley ribbuh!”
Q. “What else?”
A. “Dat all ’e had chance fuh tell me, ’cause I tell’um, ‘Haa’k’ee at me good fashi’n, B’Cudjo, ’fo’ de Lawd, ef my mout’ is stan’ lukkuh Ashley ribbuh, you cyan’ paddle yo’ boat cross’um’, en’ den ’e git bex en’ knock me wid ’e hoe handle, en’ dat w’yso I fetch’um yuh.”
At this stage of the proceedings, the Toogoodoo trial justice adjourned court to measure the Ashley River.
THE CAT WAS CRAZY
On a recent Sunday afternoon, an itinerant evangelist with a throat of brass was stationed at the corner of Richardson and Plain Streets in Columbia, singing hymns in the laudable endeavor to save a soul or two.