"'Now, Joseph, I ax you if ole Miss ent mek she title clear to him manshun een de sky? 'E cud a bin a sleep, or 'e cud a bin a dribe out een de open karrige fu', wisit she fren', or 'e cud a bin a eat cake sheself, but no, Sunday afta' Sunday, kump'ny or no kump'ny, fo' o'clock Sunday ebning yu'le fin' ole Miss een de church Maussa build een de abenue, wid f'um fifty to one hund'rd chillum de wrastle wid dem ondirstand'in'.
"'I kin read now, but my breder, all de fulness o' my min' kum f'um dem Bible wud dat I got. I don't need no spectacle, I don't need no light, I kin jes' pore out de Scriptur to eny po' sinna I meets needin' um.'"
I cannot give any idea of the balm these simple words brought to my bruised and wounded spirit. I thanked Ransom with all my heart for his beautiful, earnest testimony to my dear mother's unwavering devotion to her duty as she saw it, from the time she came to the plantation as a bride of nineteen.
Before going Ransom wished me many blessings, and wound up by saying, "Miss Pashuns, I hope you is conwert?"
Quite alarmed, I asked him what he meant.
"I mean I hope you's got religion, ma'am."
"Oh, Ransom, I hope so."
"Well, ma'am, I'm glad to hear it, en I hope 'tis true."
He did not seem to feel quite satisfied about it, which was a great shock. I know, measured by the standard he had in mind, I fall very short. I must fly to Job at once.