“And a preacher?”
“Yes; a nigger preacher.”
“Our niggers is mighty wicked; they dance!” repeated Yazoo.
“Do you consider dancing so very wicked, then?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t account so myself, as I know on, but they do, you know—the pious people, all kinds, except the ’Piscopers; some o’ them, they do dance themselves, I believe.”
“Do you dance in your country?”
“Yes.”
“What sort of dances—cotillions and reels?”
“Yes; what do you?”
“Well, we dance cotillions and reels too, and we dance on a plank; that’s the kind of dancin’ I like best.”