“‘What is dat fer?’ I axed.
“‘Why, par, it’s to make Grecian waves on my forehead. Some call them “scallopes.” We ladies in the city make them. You see, par, we comb our hair down in little waves, and the gum makes them stick close to the forehead. All the white ladies in the city wear them; it’s all the fashion.’
“Well, yer see, Mrs. Jones, I could stand all dat, but when we went to prayers I ax Fanny to lead in prayer; an’ when dat gal got on her knees and took out of her pocket a gilt-edge book, and read a prayer, den I were done, I ax myself is it possible dat my darter is come to dat. So, when prayer were over, I sed: ‘Fanny, what kind of religion is dat yer’s got?’ Sed she,—‘Why, par, I em a Piscopion.’ ‘What is dat?’ I axed. ‘That’s the English Church service. Den yer’s no more a Methodist?’ ‘O! no,’ said she, ‘to be a Piscopion is all the fashion.’”
“Stop, Mr. Mingo,” sed Mrs. Jones; “what kind of religion is dat? Is it Baptiss?”
“No, no,” replied the old man; “ef it were Baptiss, den I could a-stood dat, kase de Baptiss religion will do when yer can’t get no better. Fer wid all dey faults, I believe de Baptiss ken get into hebben by a tight squeeze. Kase, yer see, Mrs. Jones, I is a Methodiss, an’ I believes in ole-time religion, an’ I wants my chillen to meet me in hebben. So, I jess went right down on my knees an’ ax de Lord to show me my juty about Fanny, fer I wanted to win her back to de ole-time religion. Well, de Lord made it all plain to me, an’ follerin’ de Lord’s message to me, I got right up an’ went out into de woods an’ cut some switches, an’ put ’em in de barn. So I sed to Fanny: ‘Come, my darter, out to de barn; I want to give yer a present to take back to Philamadelfy wid yer.’
“‘Yes, par,’ said she, fer she was a-fixin’ de ’gum-stick-um’ on her hair. So I went to de barn, an’ very soon out come Fanny. I jess shut de door an’ fasten it, and took down my switches, an’ ax her,—‘What kind of religion is dat yer’s got?’
“‘Piscopion, par.’ Den I commence, an’ I did give dat gal sech a whippen, and she cry out,—‘O! par. O! par, please stop, par.’ Den I ax her,—‘What kind of religion yer’s got?’ ‘Pis-co-copion,’ sed she. So I give her some moo, an’ I ax her again,—‘What kind of religion is yer got?’ She sed,—‘O! par, O! par.’ Sed I,—‘Don’t call me “par.” Call me in de right way.’ Den she said,—‘O! daddy, O! daddy, I is a Methodiss. I is got ole-time religion; please stop an’ I’ll never be a Piscopion any more.’
“So, yer see, Mrs. Jones, I converted dat gal right back to de ole-time religion, which is de bess of all religion. Yes, de Lord answered my prayer dat time, wid de aid of de switches.”
Whether Mingo’s conversion of his daughter kept her from joining the Episcopalians, on her return to Philadelphia, or not, I have not learned.