The door again opened, and another clever-looking old negro, anxious
to say "how de do" to mas'r and his visitors, made his appearance,
bowing, and keeping time with his foot. "Oh, here's my old daddy-old
Daddy Bob, one of the best old niggers on the plantation; Harry and
Bob are my deacons. There,--stand there, Harry; tell these
gentlemen,--they are right glad to see you,--what you know about Elder
Praiseworthy's sermon, and what you can do in the way of preaching,"
says Marston, laughing good-naturedly.

"Rather a rough piece of property to make a preacher of," muttered
Maxwell.

The poor fellow's feet were encrusted as hard as an alligator's
back; and there he stood, a picture upon which the sympathies of
Christendom were enlisted-a human object without the rights of man,
in a free republic. He held a red cap in his left hand, a pair of
coarse osnaburg trousers reached a few inches below his knees, and,
together with a ragged shirt of the same material, constituted his
covering.

"You might have dressed yourself before you appeared before
gentlemen from abroad-at least, put on your new jacket," said
Marston.

"Why, mas'r, t'ant de clothes. God neber make Christian wid'e his
clothes on;-den, mas'r, I gin' my new jacket to Daddy Bob. But neber
mind him, mas'r-you wants I to tell you what I tinks ob de Lor. I
tink great site ob the Bible, mas'r, but me don' tink much ob
Elder's sermon, mas'r."