“Why, what do they want with more?”
“What!—to preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you. They don’t have no less than seventeen.”
“Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn’t set out such a string as that, not if I never got to glory. It must take ’em a week.”
“Shucks, they don’t all of ’em preach the same day—only one of ’em.”
“Well, then, what does the rest of ’em do?”
“Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate—and one thing or another. But mainly they don’t do nothing.”
“Well, then, what are they for?”
“Why, they’re for style. Don’t you know nothing?”
“Well, I don’t want to know no such foolishness as that. How is servants treated in England? Do they treat ’em better ’n we treat our niggers?”
“No! A servant ain’t nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs.”