"About Jesus?" said I again.

" 'Clar, missis, dis nigger don't know not'ing, but de rice and
de corn. Missis talk to Darry; he most knowin' nigger on
plantation; knows a heap."

"There!" exclaimed Preston — "that will do. You go off to your
supper, George — and Daisy, you had better come on if you want
anything pleasant at home. What on earth have you got now by
that? What is the use? Of course they do not know anything;
and why should they? They have no time and no use for it."

"They have time on Sundays —" I said.

"Time to sleep. That is what they do. That is the only thing a
negro cares about, to go to sleep in the sun. It's all
nonsense, Daisy."

"They would care about something else, I dare say," I
answered, "if they could get it."

"Well, they can't get it. Now, Daisy, I want you to let these
fellows alone. You have nothing to do with them, and you did
not come to Magnolia for such work. You have nothing on earth
to do with them."

I had my own thoughts on the subject, but Preston was not a
sympathising hearer. I said no more. The evergreen oaks about
the house came presently in sight; then the low verandah that
ran round three sides of it; then we came to the door, and my