"I reckon it's in dat ol' Bible yo' pa gin me."
"Oh, let it alone then, even Time won't find it there."
The old man shifted the weight of his body from one leg to the other and stood embarrassedly twirling his ancient hat in his hands. There was evidently something more that he wanted to say. He had not come to exchange commonplaces with his master about age or its ailments.
"Well, what is it now, Uncle Simon?" the master asked, heeding the servant's embarrassment, "I know you've come up to ask or tell me something. Have any of your converts been backsliding, or has Buck been misbehaving again?"
"No, suh, de converts all seem to be stan'in' strong in de faif, and Buck, he actin' right good now."
"Doesn't Lize bring your meals regular, and cook them good?"
"Oh, yes, suh, Lize ain' done nuffin'. Dey ain' nuffin' de mattah at de quahtahs, nuffin' 't'al."
"Well, what on earth then—"
"Hol' on, Mas', hol' on! I done tol' you dey ain' nuffin' de mattah 'mong de people, an' I ain' come to 'plain 'bout nuffin'; but—but—I wants to speak to you 'bout somefin' mighty partic'ler."
"Well, go on, because it will soon be time for you to be getting down to the meeting-house to exhort the hands."