Walk. “Get out on the floor and dance; I want to see if you are supple.”
Sam. “I don’t like to dance; I is got religion.”
Walk. “Oh, ho! you’ve got religion, have you? That’s so much the better. I likes to deal in the gospel. I think he’ll suit me. Now, mer gal, what’s your name?”
Sally. “I is Big Sally, sir.”
Walk. “How old are you, Sally?”
Sally. “I don’t know, sir; but I heard once dat I was born at sweet pertater diggin’ time.”
Walk. “Ha, ha, ha! Don’t you know how old you are? Do you know who made you?”
Sally. “I hev heard who it was in de Bible dat made me, but I dun forget de gentman’s name.”
Walk. “Ha, ha, ha! Well, Doctor, this is the greenest lot of niggers I’ve seen for some time.”
The last remark struck the Doctor deeply, for he had just taken Sally for debt, and, therefore, he was not responsible for her ignorance. And he frankly told him so.