“Dut,” answered Jim, promptly, and the old man passed on to the next.
“What’d he make yer fur?”
Again the answer was, “I dunno, sar;” and the old man, after scratching his head and reflecting a moment, said, “Fur ter do de bes’ yer kin,” which the child repeated after him.
“Who wuz de fus man?” was his next question; and the little nig professing ignorance, as usual, the old man replied, “Marse Adum.” And so he went all down the line, explaining that “Marse Cain kilt his brudder;” that “Marse Abel wuz de fus man slewed;” that “Marse Noah built de ark;” that “Marse Thuselum wuz de oldes’ man,” and so on, until he reached the end of the line, and had almost exhausted his store of information. Then, thinking to see how much the children remembered, he began at the top of the line once more, and asked the child,
“Who made yer?”
“Dut,” answered the little negro.
“Who?” demanded Uncle Bob, in astonishment.
“Dut,” replied the child.
“Didn’ I tell yer God made yer?” asked the old man.
“No, sar,” replied the boy; “dat’n wat God made done slip out de do’.”