Colossus clasped his hands and groaned.
The parson prayed for a contrite heart.
"Oh, yes!" cried Colossus.
The master acknowledged countless mercies.
"Dat's so!" cried the slave.
The master prayed that they might still be "piled on."
"Glory!" cried the black man, clapping his hands; "pile on!"
"An' now," continued the parson, "bring this pore, backslidin' jackace of a parson and this pore ole fool nigger back to thar home in peace!"
"Pray fo' de money!" called Colossus.
But the parson prayed for Jules.