"Gristian, to be sure. I might not be a Chew. Nein, nein; I am a ferry vat Gristian."
"We are all bad enough, for that matter; but I lay no stress on that. A little of the devil in a man helps him along, in this business of ourn. But you must be suthin' more than a Christian, I s'pose, as we don't call that bein' of any religion at all, in this country. Of what supportin' religion be you?"
"Soobortin'; vell, I might not oonderstands dat. Vhat is soobortin' religion? Coomes dat vrom Melanchton und Luther?—or coomes it vrom der Pope? Vhat ist dat soobortin' religion?"
"Why, what religion do you patronize? Do you patronize the standin' order, or the kneelin' order?—or do you patronize neither? Some folks thinks its best to lie down at prayer, as the least likely to divart the thoughts."
"I might not oonderstand. But nefer mindt der religion, und coome to der p'int dat you mentioned."
"Well, that p'int is this. You're a Jarman, and can't like aristocrats, and so I'll trust you; though, if you do betray me, you'll never play on another bit of music in this country, or any other! If you want to be an Injin, as good an opportunity will offer to-morrow as ever fell in a man's way?"
"An Injin! Vhat goot vill it do to be an Injin? I dought it might be better to be a vhite man, in America?"
"Oh! I mean only an anti-rent Injin. We've got matters so nicely fixed now, that a chap can be an Injin without any paint at all, or any washin' or scrubbin', but can convart himself into himself ag'in, at any time, in two minutes. The wages is good and the work light; then we have rare chances in the stores, and round about among the farms. The law is, that an Injin must have what he wants, and no grumblin', and we take care to want enough. If you'll be at the meetin', I'll tell you how you'll know me."
"Ja, ja—dat ist goot; I vill be at der meetin', sartainly. Vhere might it be?"
"Down at the village. The word came up this a'ternoon, and we shall all be on the ground by ten o'clock."