'Who made ye?'
'De good God, massa.'
'No, he didn't; God doan't make little nigs. He makes none but white folks,' said the master, laughing.
'Yas, he'm do; missus say he'm do; dat he make dis nig jess like he done little Totty.'
'Wal, he did, Jim. I'm d—d ef He didn't, fur nobody else cud make ye!' replied the man, patting the little wooly head with undisguised affection.
'Now, Jim, say th' creed fur 'de gem-man.''
The young darky then repeated the Apostles' Creed and the Ten Commandments.
'Is thet all ye knows?'
'No, massa, I knows a heap 'sides dat.'
'Wal, say suthin' more; sum on 'em pieces thet jingle.'