he'll die er syndicate. De Debbil, he ain' gwine tu'n 'm en de Lawd he
can't. De preachin' it runs off 'im same es water off er duck's back.
I'se done talked ter him day in en day out twell dar ain' no breff lef
fer me ter blow wid, an' he ain' changed a hyar f'om what de Lawd made
'im. Seems like he ain' got de sperit uv--"

"Why, Delphy!" exclaimed Bernard, interrupting the flow of speech.
"What's the matter with Moses?"

Delphy snorted contemptuously and took breath for procedure, when the
sharp cry of a baby came from Moses' cabin, and Eugenia broke in
excitedly:

"Why, there's a baby in there, Delphy! Whose baby is that?"

"Git er long wid you, chile," said Delphy. "You knows er plum sight mo'
now'n you ought ter." Then she added with a snort: "Hit's es black es er
crow's foot."

"Is it Betsey's baby?"

"I reckon'tis. Moses he says ez what'tis, but he's de mos' outlandish
nigger on dis yer place. Dar ain' no relyin' on him, noways."

"When did it come, Delphy? Who brought it? I saw Dr. Debs yesterday, an'
his saddle-bag bulged mightily."

"De Lawd didn't brung hit," returned Delphy emphatically. "De Lawd
wouldn't er teched hit wid er ten-foot pole. Dis yer Moses, he ain' wuth
de salt dat's put in his bread. He's de wuss er de hull lot--"