She sighed. All the trouble to be gone through again.
“Den, minister, what I call him?”
“Well, call him John if you want a Bible name. That's in the Bible.”
Still the woman felt vaguely there was something wrong.
“You sure dat good name for him, minister”—very earnestly.
“Oh yes, quite sure,” said the minister, anxious to put as far behind them as possible the dreadful scandal of Beelzebub.
So John the baby was christened, and the mother carried it outside and the minister came out and did the benevolent pastor to her and her friends.
“De chile's name am John,” announced the mother.
“Hoo! John!” snorted a neighbour with more knowledge, “but amn't de piccaninny a gal?” And sure enough she was.
Leonie, being sent on a message, returned nonchalantly and empty-handed.