“Glad to see de young marster out ag’in!” said Adah.
“Yes, he is out ag’in—wot’s lef’ ob him! ’Deed it’s awful! Makes me fink ob my latter en’,” said Nancy, with a deep sigh.
“Yes, it’s a warnin’! It’s a warnin’!” put in Cassy, without exactly defining what “it” meant.
“’Deed I gwine look out an’ see ef I can’t j’in some more s’ieties. I ’longs to sebben or eight now, but I ain’t satisfied in my own mine w’ich is de yight one, or eben ef any ob dem I ’long to is de yight one. An’ dere can’t be but one yight one, no way.”
“Chile Nancy, I fink as yer ’longs to too many s’ieties. Now, one is ’nough for me, w’ich dat is de Rebbernt Marse Parson Cave’s s’iety, w’ich is good ’nough for me, ’caze arter all it is de Lord I trus’ in and not de s’iety,” humbly suggested old Adah.
“G’way f’om yere, ole ’oman! Yer dunno wot yer talkin’ ’bout! In dese yere drefful times I want to be on de safe side; so I j’ines all de s’ieties I kin fine so as to get de yight one! I done hear ob two more s’ieties way out yonder some’ars, w’ich I mean to j’in soon’s ebber I get de chance.”
“Two more s’ieties, A’n’ Nancy!” exclaimed Cely opening her eyes to their widest extent.
“Yes, honey; yes, chillun! W’ich one is—le’ me see now—wot’s deir names a’gn? One is called de Shakin’ Quakers. An’ dat s’iety would suit me good, leastways in some fings; ’caze I doan beliebe in marr’in an’ gibbin’ in marridge no mo’ dan dey do; an’ as fer de res’ ob it, w’y, ebbery time I gets de fever’n’ ager I ken shake an’ quake wid de bes’ ob ’em! An’ dere’s dat oder s’iety, ’way out yonder som’ers, as is called de More-men. But I misdoubts as dat one kin be de yight one, ’caze dey’s just opposide to de oder one, an’ beliebes in a doctrine called Pulliginy, an’ libs up to it, to be sure, w’ich is mo’ dan some s’ieties do deir doctrines.”
“Wot’s Pulliginy, Nancy, chile?” inquired old Adah.
“Pulliginy is de More-men perswashun. It means as a ’oman may marr’ as many husband’s as she kin take care ob! An’ marster knows dat wouldn’t suit me at all. I never could hab patience ’nuff wid de po’ he-creeturs to marr’ one husban’, much less a whole pulliginy ob ’em. No—I can’t say as I ’mire de More-men doctorine. Dough I is much exercise in my mine fear it might be de on’y yight one. Sure ’nuff, it must hab crosses ’nuff in it ef dat would sabe a soul.”